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Chapter Text

The filthy pirate smudged his dirty fingers on the delicate white lace at Prince Seonghwa’s sleeve cuff when he defiled his hand with a kiss.

“A pleasure to meet you, Highness.” The sharp nasal quality to his voice sounded too smooth for someone who called himself ‘Pirate King.’ And his nose looked altogether too dainty for the most feared man on the ocean. “Such a pretty broach,” he commented, raising a hand to Seonghwa’s throat to touch the amber jewel. “It sets off your eyes.” A compliment, not a threat, but Seonghwa felt threatened.

He stood rigid beside his father’s throne, holding his breath to avoid breathing in the air this savage pirate inhabited. As if piracy were contagious.

“Captain Hongjoong,” the King spoke from his throne. “I’m thrilled you could join us today.”

“I’m sure you are.” Hongjoong stepped away from Seonghwa and leaned his weight on one leg, hand on his hip near his empty pistol holster. “I assume you invited me here out of the goodness of your heart and not because I left two of your navy ships burning off the southern coast.”

Seonghwa heard his father’s jaw crack. He wondered how many ships Hongjoong had burned wearing those same charred boots. They left sooty footprints on the stone floor and in the green carpet leading up to the throne. He also wondered how many necks Hongjoong wrung with those clunky rings on his fingers, and how many hearts he broke with those bowed lips and expressive eyes.

“I’d like to offer a treaty.” Seonghwa heard the tension in his father’s tone only because he learned as a small child that it meant danger. He shifted away from the throne on instinct.

Hongjoong laughed, high and whimsical, and switched his weight to the other leg. “A treaty? What are you offering me?” He examined the dirt beneath his fingernails. “I am not a man easily bought,” he cautioned.

Another click of his father’s jaw made Seonghwa wince involuntarily. “I think we both know you’ll name your own price.”

Hongjoong tilted his head back to look down his nose at them. “That’s right, Majesty.” He made the title sound like a mockery and Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. “But my price depends on what you want from me.”

The king took a breath and Seonghwa clasped his hands together in front of his stomach to keep from fidgeting or running out of the room. “My terms are that you not only give my trade vessels wide berth, but that you defend them, work alongside my military to discourage other pirating, and use your cannons against my enemies.”

Hongjoong whistled low. “A tall order, sire.” He cocked his head to the side with a snarky smile on his lips. “And it comes at a steep price.”

Seonghwa’s father gripped the armrests of his throne. “Name it.”

The scuff of Hongjoong’s sooty boots on the floor as he paced lazily set Seonghwa’s teeth on edge. “First, myself and my crew will be welcomed at every port under your authority.”

Some of the tension left the king’s shoulders. “Done.”

A sly smile on the pirate’s mouth. “Second, you will stock my ship with finest provisions whenever I ask.” He raised a hand before Seonghwa’s father could protest. “Not more than four times a year.”

The king exhaled sharply and Seonghwa flinched and bit his lip. “Fine.”

“Third,” Hongjoong paused to rake his eyes over Seonghwa. “You will give me your son in marriage.”

A breath caught halfway in Seonghwa’s throat. He couldn’t reconcile the image in front of him with matrimony in any way shape or form. “Father,” he choked on his breath, protest dying at the loud click of his father’s jaw.

“You expect me to marry off my heir - my only son - to a pirate?” the king’s voice sounded strained if not livid. Seonghwa wanted to run and hide, but he kept his feet rooted to the floor beside the throne.

Hongjoong grinned wide. “I do.” He spread his hands in a generous gesture. “That is my price. Take it or leave it.”

Silence dragged on for a beat too long. Fear clutched at Seonghwa’s insides. His father was considering. He might accept. Seonghwa opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. The so-called ‘Pirate King’ didn’t belong in this throne room. Didn’t belong with a prince. Oil and water didn’t mix.

“Are you willing to negotiate?” the king asked after a moment.

Hongjoong smiled with false pity. “No.” Seonghwa felt the intense need to bathe when Hongjoong looked at him again. His gaze crawled over Seonghwa’s body like the tiny insects that burrowed through the dirt in the gardens. “I will accept nothing less.”

Another silence that lasted too long.

Hongjoong slipped his dirty hands into the deep pockets of his long leather coat. “If we cannot agree on the terms of a treaty, then there is no treaty to be had, Majesty.” He bowed his head mockingly. “Good day.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa’s father reached out his hand. “Would you not rather have one of my daughters? They are even lovelier than my son.”

Blood rushed past Seonghwa’s ears. The idea of any of his sisters in the same room as this savage man turned his stomach. He couldn’t let his sisters trade their lives for a pirate’s filthy pleasure.

Hongjoong sighed dramatically. “I’m sure they are lovely, sire. But I’ve named my price. If you’re not willing to pay it, then we have nothing more to discuss.”

“Why do you want my son?” the king demanded.

The corners of Hongjoong’s mouth twitched in a dangerous smile. “I’ve named my price.”

Intense fear twisted Seonghwa’s gut and he found his words. “Father, you can’t possibly consider this,” his voice didn’t tremble. They couldn’t accept these terms. It gave the pirate captain too much power and put his life on the line. The risk wasn’t worth the reward. “You can’t possibly sell me off to scum and villainy.”

Hongjoong laughed, delighted, and clapped his hands together. “Wonderfully put, my prince.” He grinned like he’d already won. “I wonder how much you want my allegiance. I wonder what you’re willing to give for my aid in your time of need.”

“My domain is the land,” Seonghwa’s father spoke tightly. “My power on land is undisputed.”

Another light giggle. “The sea herself bows to my whims, Majesty.” It might have been blasphemy, but Seonghwa wondered the truth of it. “What does real power look like?”

The king stood from his throne. “I must have your word,” he declared. “On your honor. On anything you care about. You must swear respect, honor, and fidelity.”

A dirty hand covered the place Hongjoong’s heart would be if he had one. Seonghwa suspected he didn’t. “I swear on my mother’s name.” He took a step forward, a dark smile on his face. “Before God.” Another step. “That I will treasure your son.” Another step brought him right to the throne where he braced a hand against the back and leaned over the king. “On my honor as a pirate, I promise him my respect.” He glanced up at Seonghwa and giggled low. “And on my dignity as a man, no one will ever fuck him like I will.”

Seonghwa stepped back and crossed his arms over his body protectively.

“I accept your terms.” Seonghwa’s father said like he’d won some great, difficult battle. But to Seonghwa’s ringing ears it sounded like a death sentence.

-----

Seonghwa’s hands trembled around a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers. His white suit floated around him like a dream. Silver braided into his hair caught the light and pearls around his neck shifted and clacked as he walked too quickly.

Pearls for innocence. White for purity. Blue flowers for death.

The death of Seonghwa’s innocence.

He did not look at the pirate captain during the ceremony. He kept his eyes on the floor, or on his sisters. He could accept this fate to save them. And to save his country. He always knew he’d marry for political reasons, but not like this. Not to a murderous pirate.

A hand on his chin turned his face up and forced him to look at his husband. Clean. Hair swept away from his face and braided with silver in the same fashion as Seonghwa’s. Warm pigment smudged around deep, bottomless eyes. Bowed lips tinted pink. If Seonghwa didn’t know better, he might call him beautiful.

“You may seal your union with a kiss.”

The corners of Hongjoong’s mouth ticked up, and he pulled Seonghwa’s face to his. Seonghwa braced himself for something terrible; something obscene or painful or poisonous. But it was only a kiss. A chaste press of their mouths together.

For some reason, that frightened Seonghwa more than anything else.

Seonghwa kept a smile plastered on his face the entire feast, though he ate little and spoke less. His husband told him a few times how lovely he looked, encouraged him to eat something, and asked about his opinions on various shallow topics. He gave up when it became clear Seonghwa would only give him one-word answers.

When they retired to Seonghwa’s chambers, he tried to steel himself for what would come. He remembered his sisters, remembered his country and the hundreds of lives this would save. He’d come to terms with being a pirate’s plaything for a night or two until he returned to his ship and never saw Seonghwa again.

He did not look at his husband before he closed himself in the bath drawn for him. The warm water soothed his tense muscles and he took a deep breath of the lilac scented fragrance in the air.

Seonghwa never considered that he might marry a man. He had sisters if an alliance needed to be formed. He smoothed his hands over his body under the water. This way hurt, he’d been told. Preparation would be key. But with someone so rough and savage as a pirate, he couldn’t imagine any amount of preparation would help him.

A soapy finger pressed against his tensed hole. Seonghwa took a breath and tried to relax. The tip of his finger pushed inside. It felt strange; neither good nor bad. But the more he worked into himself - one knuckle, two - the more an unsettling burn spread through him. He bit his lip. Even the smallest cock was bigger than one of his fingers, and somehow he doubted that the ‘Pirate King’ was anything less than well endowed.

Despair filled his chest and he pulled his finger out. Perhaps the pirate would have mercy on him.

He returned in silk sleep-clothes to find Hongjoong reclined on the bed, the sheet covering his nudity. “Seonghwa, my darling, do you feel well?” He sounded genuine enough, though the perpetual smirk on his lips caused every statement to lose credibility.

Seonghwa lifted his chin. “I’m eager to be done with this ordeal.”

The low hum from Hongjoong’s chest did nothing to ease his nerves. He stood and Seonghwa did not look at him. “Ordeal?” He smoothed his hands over Seonghwa’s shirt. “Oh no, dear. You’ve mistaken me for a selfish lover.”

Seonghwa’s breath hitched when Hongjoong undid the first button on the cool silk. “You mean to tell me you’re not selfish?”

“Sure I am. But not here. Not in bed.” Hands smoothed down Seonghwa’s arms. “Relax, sweet one, I won’t hurt you.”

Seonghwa had a hard time believing that but allowed his new husband to undo another button without complaint.

“You are beautiful,” Hongjoong whispered. The warmth of his hands brushed Seonghwa’s chest as he unbuttoned his shirt. “So very beautiful, but you know that.” He eased the shirt over Seonghwa’s shoulders, down his arms. Slow and careful. But somehow mocking. “And that’s not why I want you.”

“Why do you want me?” Seonghwa hissed.

Hongjoong smoothed his hands over the planes of Seonghwa’s chest. “I have a hunch. You’ll prove me right in time.” A hand glided lightly over his throat to cup his jaw. “Or prove me wrong.” He stepped closer, just a breath away. “But I’m rarely wrong.”

Seonghwa fought to keep his hands at his sides and not push Hongjoong away. “Get on with it.” He didn’t want to drag this out longer than it needed to be.

A light giggle. “No, darling. You’ve never done this before. We’re going to take our sweet time. Make sure you feel good.”

Seonghwa scoffed. “Like you care.” His back hit the bed before he realized Hongjoong pushed him. The hand on his shoulder pinning him down would not yield and Seonghwa knew better than to fight it.

“Never accuse me of apathy.” The words tickled against Seonghwa’s ear and made him shiver. “You can accuse me of cruelty, of vulgarity, of piracy, of murder.” Sharp teeth scraped the shell of Seonghwa’s ear. “That’s all true and I won’t deny it.” His lips brushed the delicate skin at the corner of Seonghwa’s jaw. “But never,” he shifted to speak against Seonghwa’s mouth, “Never say I don’t care.”

A strange heat simmered under Seonghwa’s skin. “Are you going to kiss me?” He could feel every puff of breath from Hongjoong’s mouth against his and for some reason, it made his head feel fuzzy.

Hongjoong sat back a little, a sly smile playing at his lips. “Do you want me to?”

Seonghwa frowned. “Does it matter?”

That infuriating low giggle. “Darling, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.”

Confusion drew Seonghwa’s eyebrows together. “But you married me so that-”

“I married you so the king would be my father-in-law and I would always have a bargaining chip.” Hongjoong guided him up the bed to lay comfortably and sat over Seonghwa’s hips. “I married you to protect my crew and my own interests.” His hands trailed over the bare skin of Seonghwa’s stomach, just this side of ticklish. “The fact that you are the most deliciously pretty little thing is just a perk.” Hongjoong’s palms rubbed too light over Seonghwa’s nipples and he drew a sharp breath.

“I still don’t see why it matters what I want.” Seonghwa couldn’t say when his heart rate picked up, only that it felt like it wanted to beat out of his chest. The way Hongjoong touched him - so carefully, so intimately - left him a little bit breathless.

The warmth of Hongjoong’s chest as he leaned over to kiss the edge of Seonghwa’s jaw made Seonghwa’s breath hitch again. “Darling,” Hongjoong sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you.” A soft, lingering kiss to the sensitive skin below Seonghwa’s ear. “I’m not going to rape you.”

Seonghwa lost his train of thought in the line of kisses down the side of his neck. His eyes fell closed and tilted his head to expose more skin to the pleasant feeling of Hongjoong’s lips and tongue. His fingers twisted into the sheets and he remained alert and guarded, but this felt nice. The warm hands rubbing the tension from his shoulders felt nice.

“Tell me what you want, dearest,” Hongjoong asked, a low whisper against his ear.

A tight shiver reminded Seonghwa what came after this nice bit and he just wanted to have this whole thing over and behind him. Or else stay in this pleasant feeling as long as possible. He couldn’t decide which.

“Talk to me, princeling.” Hongjoong encouraged him with a gentle nip to his earlobe.

“What do you want?” he tried to turn the question around since he figured his answer wouldn’t be satisfactory.

Hongjoong giggled and leaned back to stroke Seonghwa’s cheek. “We’ll work up to that. What I want would break you.” He leaned in to speak against Seonghwa’s mouth again. “So tell me what you like.”

Seonghwa didn’t quite mean to kiss him, but he only had to tilt his chin the smallest bit to press their mouths together. Simple, chaste, closed-mouthed kisses. Gentle and slow. No pressure, no heat, no discernible ulterior motive.

“Sweet thing,” Hongjoong whispered. Another kiss to his mouth. One to the tip of his nose. “If you can’t tell me what you want, tell me what you don’t want.”

Warm hands rubbed soothingly up and down Seonghwa’s sides. “I don’t want you to fuck me,” he blurted.

Hongjoong giggled with a knowing smile. “No, I didn’t figure you would.” His hands moved light and ticklish over Seonghwa’s hip bones peeking out above the waistband of his sleep pants. “Would you like my fingers?” he asked. One of his fingertips dipped into Seonghwa’s belly button and pressed suggestively.

“No.” Seonghwa gripped the sheets tighter. “Please, I don’t want anything inside.”

Soft lazy kisses to Seonghwa’s neck. “Hush, dearest, it’s alright.” A kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You don’t trust me yet and that’s alright.”

Seonghwa drew a sharp breath. “It’s alright? You’re not going to- Even though…”

A light kiss on his mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you, Seonghwa. And I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do.”

Seonghwa shivered when Hongjoong’s hand ghosted over the stiff peak of his nipple. “What if I say I don’t want you to touch me?”

Hongjoong sat back and shifted his weight on Seonghwa’s body. “Then I won’t touch you.” He rolled his hips down and a startled sigh betrayed Seonghwa. “But I won’t believe you, darling,” he said darkly.

Seonghwa blinked rapidly. He hadn't realized how hard he was. Embarrassment heated his cheeks.

Another roll of Hongjoong’s hips made him gasp. Hongjoong smiled like the cat that got the canary and leaned over Seonghwa again to kiss the curve of his shoulder. “This is fine, dear one.” His fingertips trailed over Seognhwa’s taut stomach. “We can do this all night.”

Seonghwa gasped again when Hongjoong’s fingers trailed around his nipple. He latched onto the reaction and rubbed it more intentionally, but still light and barely there.

“Does that feel good?” Hongjoong asked. “Are you sensitive here, dearest?”

Seonghwa shut his eyes and pressed his head back into the pillow. “Yes.” Heat simmered beneath his skin, growing in intensity everywhere Hongjoong touched him. Fear mostly abated, he basked in how good it felt. Even if it wouldn’t last. Even if tomorrow the pirate might be cruel. Right now in this moment, Seonghwa didn’t want him to stop.

A soft, wet mouth replaced the teasing fingers on his chest and a quiet noise tore from Seonghwa’s throat. That seemed to spur Hongjoong on. He used his tongue, his lips, the blunt edges of his teeth, to pull small, helpless sounds from Seonghwa’s chest.

He kissed his way down the hem of Seonghwa’s sleep pants and looked up at him, eyes heavily lidded, lips pink and a little puffy. “Seonghwa, my darling,” his voice dripped something sweet and potentially deadly. “Would you like my mouth on you? Do you want me to take care of you? Make you feel good?”

Seonghwa sucked a few quick breaths. “You would do that?” he hesitated.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. “Oh, my sweet prince.” His mouth twitched into a ravenous smile. “You’d do well not to underestimate me.”

The sleep pants fell to the floor, and Hongjoong pushed Seonghwa’s legs apart enough to settle between them.

“Beautiful,” he whispered into Seonghwa’s thigh. “You’re gorgeous. So beautiful.”

Seonghwa shivered. He clutched the sheets tighter with each teasing press of Hongjoong’s mouth. But he wouldn’t ask him to stop. He liked the tease. He liked the intentional, targeted way Hongjoong touched him, building slowly. So different from the times Seonghwa touched himself in hurried moments.

A deeply contented sigh fell from Seonghwa’s lips when Hongjoong finally touched his dick. A loose hand around the base, and delicate kitten-licks around the head. Seonghwa tugged at the sheets and sighed again.

Hongjoong lifted his head and touched Seonghwa’s hand to coax him to hold it. “You’re allowed to touch me, darling.”

It honestly never crossed Seonghwa’s mind that it might be a possibility. He cupped Hongjoong’s face, ran his fingers through his hair, along the curve of his shoulder, tapped the earrings glittering from his ears. Hongjoong giggled and returned his attention to Seonghwa’s dick.

His tongue felt so warm and wonderful. When he wrapped his lips around Seonghwa’s tip and sucked lightly, Seonghwa saw stars. When he sank slowly until his nose pressed into Seonghwa’s pelvis, Seonghwa tangled a hand through his hair.

Euphoria.

Seonghwa had heard the expression, but never fully understood the meaning of the word. Now he knew. Everything felt so good he could cry.

He tried to warn Hongjoong with a tug to his hair before he came, but Hongjoong locked eyes with him and sucked harder.

Freefall among the stars. Floating in an ocean of cream and sugar. Blissful, euphoric completeness.

Seonghwa felt boneless and brainless even after he came down from his high. Hongjoong kissed him sweetly and pulled the blankets up over their shoulders. Seonghwa rolled over, hand finding Hongjoong’s muscular arm.

“What about you?” he asked, still breathless.

Hongjoong giggled fondly. “My sweet prince, this wasn’t about me.” He wrapped Seonghwa up in his arms. “I’ve worn you out. I don’t think you could do any more.” And Seonghwa’s eyelids did feel heavy and Hongjoong’s skin smelled like sea salt and lightning. He kissed Seonghwa’s head. “You can make it up to me later.”

Seonghwa hummed his agreement. His last waking thought was wondering why a pirate would spoil him when he’d been spoiled his whole life.

-----

The looks people gave Seonghwa as he walked to breakfast settled like a heavy bag of nails in his stomach. The prince who married a pirate. The prince who slept with a pirate. And liked it.

But that didn’t mean he liked the man or anything he stood for.

He kept his head high and ignored the stares until he could close himself in the dining room. He took his seat at the table beside his husband - that word still made him dizzy - and did his best to keep up with the pleasantries exchanged out of obligation.

They also discussed the arrangements for Hongjoong to return to his ship.

An idea kept tugging at the back of Seonghwa’s mind. He’d discussed it with his mother before the wedding and she supported him, but his father might not. But it would potentially save lives and expensive property damage, so it would irresponsible for Seonghwa not to speak up.

He cleared his throat softly, and only Hongjoong noticed. “What is it my dear?” he asked with his most lecherous smile.

“I do not wish to be without my husband,” Seonghwa told his father, posture too straight and words too stiff. “It wounds me that we would be parted so soon after our union.”

Everyone at the table looked confused except Seonghwa’s mother, who gave him an encouraging nod. Hongjoong looked the most confused, eyes sharp, waiting for Seonghwa to give something up.

Seonghwa wet his lips. “I ask that Captain Hongjoong remains with me here at the palace.”

A silent beat before Hongjoong’s low giggle. He swept a hair away from Seonghwa’s face and let his hand linger at the edge of Seonghwa’s jaw. “If my sweet prince wants to stay with me,” his thumb brushed over Seonghwa’s bottom lip. “Then I shall not leave his side.”

Seonghwa exhaled a relieved breath and ducked his head in gratitude. The king had to understand that if Hongjoong didn’t return to sea, he couldn’t betray their treaty and he couldn’t continue his piracy.

“Very well,” the king did seem to understand. “I’ll have a suite prepared for you both.”

Hongjoong’s laugh sent chills down Seonghwa’s spine and his head snapped up. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Majesty, but unnecessary.” He turned Seonghwa’s face to press a possessive kiss to his cheek. “My ship is finer than any palace.”

“Your ship?” Seonghwa felt his life slipping through his fingers like so much sand.

“My darling,” Hongjoong sighed, dramatically fond. “If you don’t want to be separated, you’ll return with me to the Horizon and sail with my crew.” That smug smirk. “A more pleasurable arrangement anyway.”

Seonghwa shivered. He’d trapped himself. Signed his own execution. He couldn’t take back his words and he couldn’t do anything to stop this.

-----

The Horizon stuck out like a sore thumb, unmistakable from the other boats in the marina. Black from smoke and soot and gunpowder. Wrought iron detailing that should have weighed enough to take it to the bottom of the ocean. Webs of rigging tied neat and orderly with not a single rope out of place. A black flag flapped in the wind and sent a spike of fear through Seonghwa’s heart.

His parents saw him off at the palace gates. They wouldn’t come out here. Hongjoong’s hand solid on the small of Seonghwa’s back guided him through the throng of people wanting to see the truth of the rumors they heard. The prince married a pirate. The pirate would take the prince to sea. The prince would die some horrible death.

Seonghwa kept his head high and didn’t trip on his way up the ramp and onto the glossy black deck of the Horizon. He stopped short before the line of pirates waiting to greet their captain. They stood tall, arms crossed behind their backs, waiting for orders. Scars and tattoos marred their skin, hoop earrings, headscarves, wide-brimmed hats, cutlasses and pistols strapped to their hips, their appearance was meant to strike fear into the hearts of men.

It worked.

Hongjoong’s hand slid around Seonghwa’s waist. “I’d like to introduce my husband, Prince Seonghwa.” Hongjoong kissed his cheek again, then let him go. “We are allied with this kingdom now,” he paused to grin. “My kingdom.”

One of the pirates exhaled a laugh, but Seonghwa felt cold and frightened.

“Any questions?” Hongjoong propped his hands on his hips, scanning the line of pirates.

The tall one with beads and bits of shell tied and braided into his hair stepped forward, eyeing Seonghwa. “Your…” he searched for a word, “Princeling will be sailing with us?”

“He will,” Hongjoong said with finality. “He’ll be useless for a while, I expect.” That burned in Seonghwa’s chest, even though he knew it wasn’t false.

Another pirate stepped forward. Tan skin covered by a web of ink, hair tied back out of his face, a few earrings that caught the light. “This arrangement you made with the king,” he tilted his head back, confidence pouring off him in waves. “What exactly do we have to do?”

Hongjoong grinned. “Leave his trade ships alone. Defend them if we see someone else attack them. Do the job of their sorry excuse for a navy if they ask us to.”

The pirate sniffed, appraising Seonghwa like a cut of meat. “In return for a pretty piece of ass?”

Seonghwa’s blood ran cold. Hongjoong’s smile turned into a cruel sneer. “In return for marrying the heir to the throne and holding the greatest bargaining chip in the Five Kingdoms.”

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa whispered. He wanted some comfort or assurance. He wanted some glimpse of the man who touched him so kindly last night.

Hongjoong wrapped his hand around Seonghwa’s wrist and tugged him closer. “Ah, where are my manners?” He indicated the tall pirate who spoke first. “This is Yunho. My first mate and quartermaster. The best swordsman on the sea.” Yunho nodded his head respectfully.

Hongjoong waved his hand at the next pirate. A wicked scar ran crooked from one side of his jaw to the opposite shoulder like his neck had been sliced open. A rosy birthmark bloomed next to his eye and he twirled twin daggers in his hands.

“Yeosang,” Hongjoong said. “Boatswain. Great gambler. Never lost a bet.” Yeosang’s smile looked sharp.

The next pirate appeared as solid as the ship. Black stained his muscular arms to the elbow, and a headscarf that might have once been entirely red dipped to black at the ends hanging over his shoulders.

“Jongho,” Hongjoong said fondly. “My master gunner. Born with a pistol in his hand. He could crack a peanut at twenty paces.”

Jongho flashed a gummy smile too cute for a pirate. “Fifty paces, Captain,” he corrected, and Hongjoong giggled.

The pirate with the tattoos stood with his arms crossed, kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed at Seonghwa. “This is our cook and carpenter, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong introduced. “He’s not as fierce as he looks.” Wooyoung frowned and Seonghwa decided not to test that theory.

Hongjoong placed a comfortable hand on the next pirate’s shoulder. “Mingi is my sailing master, navigator, and the smartest man I know.” Mingi tipped his wide-brimmed hat. His face looked calculating, like he’d already guessed Seonghwa’s next move. A delicate crescent-shaped scar stood out pale on his cheek. And while his hat shadowed his eyes, Seonghwa got the feeling he saw everything.

The last pirate wore no shirt under his jade-green waistcoat, and a gold hoop hung from his ear. A few scars on his forearms looked relatively new, and an old scar severed his eyebrow. Kohl smudged around his eyes ran in a line down one cheek and Seonghwa felt undressed by his stare.

“San is my lookout.” Hongjoong paused to regard him. “San is a jack of all trades,” he amended “A single title doesn’t do him justice. He can shoot a pistol and swing a sword with the best of them.”

San stepped forward into Seonghwa’s personal space. Seonghwa backed up until his legs bumped the low railing at the edge of the ship. San exhaled a short laugh at Seonghwa’s wide eyes and short breaths. “Pretty prince sent off on a pirate ship.” His eyes raked over Seonghwa’s body. “Pity we have more freedom than you do.” He backed away to join the rest of the crew and Seonghwa tried to remember how to breathe.

Hongjoong gave an order and they set to work around the ship. Lost and afraid, Seonghwa darted to his husband’s side. “Hongjoong, I’m frightened.”

That awful low giggle. “My darling, what is there to be frightened of?”

Seonghwa watched San swing from the rigging and said nothing.

“You’re afraid of my crew?” Hongjoong asked, incredulous. “They shouldn’t frighten you, dear one. When we’ve been boarded by some low-life would-be-pirates, you’ll be running to San and Wooyoung for protection.” He touched Seonghwa’s face, gentle and kind, but still smiling that awful smug smile. “You have nothing to fear from them.” A dangerous flash to his eyes. “They know better than to touch what isn’t theirs.”

Seonghwa stopped himself from shaking. He couldn’t show weakness here. Not with his honor on the line. He had always been adaptable. He could adapt to this too. A prince did not run back to the palace because his new husband’s crew frightened him. A prince did not back down because he didn’t trust anyone. A prince held his head high and did not tremble in the face of scum and villainy.

Chapter Text

Seonghwa spent the first two days at sea curled up sicker than a dog against the railing at the back of the boat - “the stern,” Mingi corrected him coldly on the first day. Stern, bow, port, starboard; it meant nothing to Seonghwa as his empty stomach heaved.

Occasionally, Hongjoong brought him a cup of water or a stale biscuit. Seonghwa couldn’t keep any of it down.

Mid-afternoon on the third day, he laid on his back staring up at the endless blue sky and wondering what he could have done to avoid all this. How much better his life would be if he married some soft foreign princess with wide eyes and small breasts. How easy it would be to wake up in the morning and go about his business without the ground swaying under his feet.

He took a sip of the water Hongjoong left for him and didn’t immediately roll over to choke it up into the ocean. His nausea gradually abated and his head stopped swimming. He sat up slowly and looked around.

Mingi spoke with Yeosang, pointing at the sails and giving instructions. Yunho paced beyond them, always busy. Jongho and San huddled closer to the stern in the shadow of a higher deck, wrapped up in an intense discussion.

No sign of Hongjoong. Wooyoung would probably be in the kitchen.

Seonghwa pushed himself to unsteady feet and leaned on the wall to the higher deck for support.

“...They won’t like it. It’s a target on our backs,” Jongho was saying when Seonghwa came close enough to hear them.

“Exactly,” San agreed. “Power doesn’t come without a cost. They’ll come after us until our bargaining chip is theirs.”

“Or dead,” Jongho reasoned.

Seonghwa froze, heart pounding. Who wanted him dead? Who would come after him? And why?

Jongho noticed him leaning against the wall to catch his breath. “Look, San. Our pretty prince doesn’t look so green anymore.”

San undressed him with his eyes. “Captain’ll be overjoyed,” he deadpanned. “Come on then.”

Neither pirate offered to help Seonghwa keep his balance as they led him to the ship’s cabin. Inside the cluttered office space, Hongjoong looked up from a large map. He smiled at Seonghwa and beckoned him closer. “Are you feeling better, my darling?”

Seonghwa nodded and held onto the doorway to keep his footing as the ship pitched on the waves. “Better,” he said. “But I don’t know how you walk around like the ship isn’t even moving.”

A telescope rolled across the table and Hongjoong caught it without looking. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll get used to it.”

-----

Seonghwa did get used to it. He found it increasingly easy to navigate the ship, even if he still tried to avoid the crew. Mostly unsuccessfully.

Something shrieked and a blur of green feathers swooped from the sky right at Seonghwa. He yelled and fell on his ass, attempting to cover his face for protection. A sharp beak clamped around his finger and he yelled again, frantically trying to beat the bird away as pain shot through his finger.

“Fix,” Mingi’s gruff voice called. “Off.”

The bird flew away to alight gently on Mingi’s shoulder.

Seonghwa pushed himself up from his fetal position to examine his finger, panic still surging through his chest. Blood dripped from a cut midway down. It didn’t look dangerously deep, but it hurt like hell and Mingi just stood there petting the demon bird like it hadn’t just attacked.

Warm hands on his shoulders startled him. “Are you alright, dear? Let me see.” Hongjoong examined his finger and tutted. “Not too bad. I have an ointment so it won’t scar.”

He pushed the finger into Seonghwa’s mouth so he'd suck the blood away, and the sharp metallic taste caught Seonghwa off guard. He made a small noise and blinked his eyes rapidly when his saliva stung against the cut.

Hongjoong shifted his jaw and watched Seonghwa darkly. “You don’t even know. The things I would do to you.” An intense whisper so quiet Seonghwa might have imagined it.

He pulled his finger out of his mouth. “You allow that monster bird on your ship?” His panic leaked into his voice.

“Parrot,” Mingi corrected. His hat shaded most of his face, so Seonghwa couldn’t make out his expression, but he kept petting the demon bird.

Hongjoong sighed. “Fix does more good than harm,” he said. “He was probably startled because he hasn’t seen much of you the last few days.”

“It attacked me.” Seonghwa couldn’t be sure how much Hongjoong had seen, but he thought his husband should be aware. “It nearly bit my finger off.”

“I know, darling,” Hongjoong soothed. “It won’t happen again.” He looked at Mingi meaningfully. Mingi inclined his head slightly.

“Fuck you,” the bird squawked.

Seonghwa gasped and scooted back against Hongjoong’s chest. “Did it just- It can talk?”

Hongjoong giggled against his ear. “Yes. Fix knows a few phrases.”

The concept of a talking evil bird unsettled Seonghwa’s stomach again. “Please, Captain.” He clung to Hongjoong’s coat with his good hand. “I don’t like it. It frightens me. It’s unnatural.”

Hongjoong drew a sharp breath through his teeth. “Take care, Seonghwa,” he warned, voice tight. “There is nothing I would deny you if you asked me sweetly like that.”

Mingi’s hat hid his eyes, but Seonghwa could feel the heat of his gaze. He felt inclined to believe Hongjoong, and understood he should use his power sparingly. And not invoke Mingi’s wrath in the process.

Seonghwa looked at the vibrant green feathers and the sharp black beak that could rip someone to shreds. Gold eyes peered back at him, seemingly mirthful at Seonghwa’s discomfort. “So the bird is trained?”

Mingi held up a hand for the parrot to hop onto. “Trained him myself.” He threw the bird into the air. “Lookout, Fix.”

Hongjoong kissed the corner of Seonghwa’s jaw reassuringly. “He’s really more of a help than a bother. He’ll stay out of your way now that he knows you’re not a threat.”

The parrot circled the ship a few times, and returned to Mingi’s outstretched arm. “Shit,” it squawked.

Mingi petted its head with his other hand. “There aren’t any other ships close to us.”

Seonghwa shivered when the parrot cracked a nut Mingi offered it. How easily that beak could crack a finger. Or rip a nose clean off. Or pluck an eye out. Seonghwa hated the bird and would avoid it at all costs.

And if it attacked him again, he would ask Hongjoong to kill it.

-----

Seonghwa sat on a pile of rope, looking out at the ocean. It all looked the same. The endless flat horizon made his chest feel tight and his feet feel itchy, but he didn't dare complain.

"Prince Seonghwa?" Jongho's voice startled him. "I need this rope."

Seonghwa stood and backed away with a muttered apology and a few bows of his head.

Jongho watched him curiously. "You must be terribly bored."

Seonghwa didn't know how to respond to that. He had been bored the few days since he stopped feeling seasick. He had no responsibilities on this ship and not much by way of entertainment. But he’d never been one to complain.

The rough rope scraped against itself as Jongho pulled a length of the thick coils free. "Why don't you help me?"

"Help you?" Seonghwa wouldn't know where to begin.

"Carry the rope." Jongho dropped the coils of rope into Seonghwa's arms. He buckled from the unexpected weight, nearly dropping it, while Jongho laughed. "Show me your hands, princeling."

Seonghwa dropped the rope, arms trembling, and held out his hands, palms up. The rough rope had scratched his skin pink just from handling it.

Jongho hummed. "Soft hands won't last a minute on the seas," he said. "Good thing you have the Captain to protect you."

He left that hanging without further explanation and Seonghwa didn't appreciate it. He could lift the stupid ropes. His hands weren't that soft. He heaved the coil of rope into his arms and lifted his chin.

Jongho laughed, showing his wide, gummy smile. "Alright, princeling. This way." Jongho led him across the deck.

As it turned out, dragging the ropes proved to be another battle entirely. Out of breath by the time they reached the opposite side of the deck, he hung his head and dropped the heavy coils at Jongho's feet. "There."

"Ah, so our prince wants to be a sailor now?" San's voice behind him made him shiver.

Jongho kicked at the rope while San crossed around Seonghwa, not quite close enough to touch him. "His hands are too soft to do any good," Jongho said.

"My hands are perfectly fine the way they are," Seonghwa insisted.

San cooed patronizingly. "Well then why don't you make yourself useful and climb the rigging to tie down the sail?" San's grin looked predatory. "Yeosang said the wind'll pick up and we want that sail secure."

Seonghwa bit his lip, but lifted his chin defiantly. He could climb the stupid rigging. It didn't look that hard, and he'd been fairly athletic all his life. "Fine."

He brushed past San to put a hand on the rope ladder leading up to the mast. It felt flimsy. Seonghwa knew in his head that it could support Yunho's weight, and Yunho stood a bit taller and more than a bit broader than Seonghwa and undoubtedly weighed more. But in Seonghwa's heart, he didn't trust it.

San's oppressive gaze on his back convinced him to try.

He climbed up a few rungs before his foot caught in the ropes and he clung fearfully to the twisting net ladder. San and Jongho laughed at him, which encouraged him to continue once he detangled his foot. He did not look down, and he tried not to shake the ladder too much. He made it about halfway up before his hands felt like they might blister from the sharp fibers of the ropes and his legs trembled too much on the swaying web of knots for him to trust them. He looked down.

That was a mistake. Seonghwa never considered himself afraid of heights, but standing at the top of a solid stone tower felt much different than swaying in the wind over an endless ocean while clinging to a bunch of glorified string for dear life.

He knew in his head this was ridiculous and he never should have tried, but his hands hurt and his muscles ached from being so tense and the pirates did this all the time, so he had no reason not to trust the apparatus… But still.

He watched Yunho scold San and Jongho below him, but San never stopped grinning up at Seonghwa like he’d won.

And maybe he had. This time. Because as bruised as Seonghwa’s pride felt, he’d never been foolish. It would be unwise for him to climb any higher. So he climbed down. Slowly, too carefully, too intensely focused to pay attention to anything going on below.

When he stumbled the last step down onto the deck of the ship, Hongjoong wrapped him in a tight hug. “Don’t do anything like that again, precious. You could get hurt.” He grabbed Seonghwa’s wrists to examine his hands and scowled at the raw state of them. A sweet kiss to each palm, and then venom in his voice as he spoke to San and Jongho. “If you ruin his hands with work, I’ll skin yours.”

Jongho bristled, but San looked unbothered by the threat.

“Were you terribly frightened, my dear?” Hongjoong asked Seonghwa gently.

The sudden changes in attitude gave Seonghwa whiplash. “No,” Seonghwa lied. “I’m not afraid of heights.” He pouted a little because he couldn’t decide if he felt patronized or comforted by the way Hongjoong babied him.

Hongjoong cooed and kissed his pouted lip. “Of course not, darling. You’re probably the bravest of us all.” He spoke softly so no one else would hear, but Seonghwa heard the truth in it. He wondered what Hongjoong really thought of him. Did he see Seonghwa as a conquest? A trophy? As a frightened, entitled boy with no worldly knowledge? Or something closer to the truth?

He wanted to ask, but didn't know how to phrase the question. And Hongjoong had already moved on to the next important item of business. Seonghwa would have to be patient for his answers.

-----

Mingi spent a lot of time with the Captain, speaking low over books and maps, eyes shadowed by his wide-brimmed hat. Sometimes the parrot sat on his shoulder snapping its wicked beak and twitching its head with those shifty gold eyes. The deep rasp to Mingi's voice unsettled Seonghwa whenever he heard it. He didn’t like to approach his husband with Mingi present.

Not that he approached Hongjoong often anyway. He was always busy. Checking this, surveying that. Is the wind from the south or the west? Is the water colder today? San, have you seen any other ships? Yeosang, adjust course fifteen knots east. Wooyoung, this step needs repairing. How much ammunition do we have in the hold, Jongho? Will that be enough until we make it to port? And on and on and on.

Seonghwa didn’t want to bother him.

Now, he could see him at the helm with Yeosang. Yeosang appeared to be on the defensive about something to do with the main mast, and Hongjoong didn’t look happy about it. He looked dangerous. His harsh voice carried across the deck, but lost the words along the way. Seonghwa decided it would be best to leave him alone for a while.

Before he could make it back to the Captain’s quarters, San dropped from a rope to land in front of him. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” San always looked like a panther about to pounce.

Seonghwa backed up a step. “My quarters. The Captain’s quarters.” He lifted his chin.

San stepped forward. “So you can sit and look pretty?” he mocked. “That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Can't ruin your soft, pretty hands.”

A step backward, and Seonghwa bit down all his protests. He wouldn’t play this game. He knew his value. To the Captain if not to the whole crew as a bargaining chip. And Hongjoong seemed fond of him most of the time. “I'm better than you at sitting pretty.”

San sneered. “Better than me?” Another step forward. “Oh, I don’t think so.” Another. “I don’t think you’re better than me at anything.” A meaningful up-and-down that lingered a little too long on Seonghwa’s crotch. “Anything at all.”

A shiver ran down Seonghwa’s back. He swallowed the fear and defensive threats that clogged his throat. “I suppose you could always ask my husband.” A bold bluff. Hongjoong hadn’t given him more than a handful of kisses since their wedding night. But San couldn’t possibly know that.

San laughed low and threatening, looking at Seonghwa like he wanted to eat him raw. “Maybe if I ask nicely, he’ll let me watch while he ruins you.”

Seonghwa’s vision went dark around the edges and he wondered if he was dehydrated or if San just sucked all the air out of the space around him.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong’s voice shouted, irritable. “Come here.”

Happy for an excuse to escape San, Seonghwa ran across the deck and up the stairs to the higher level. “Yes, Captain?”

Usually, Hongjoong liked it when Seonghwa called him Captain, but he only grabbed Seonghwa’s wrist and tugged him toward the helm where Yeosang stood with his arms crossed. “You’re going to settle a dispute.”

That sounded like the absolute last thing Seonghwa wanted to do.

“We’re headed to Port Fever,” Hongjoong explained, terse, frowning at Yeosang and holding Seonghwa’s wrist just this side of too tight. “I have to show you off, naturally.”

Seonghwa blinked rapidly, equally flattered and frightened. “You want to show me off?”

Hongjoong turned his head to look at him as though seeing him for the first time. His grip on Seonghwa’s wrist loosened and he reached up his other hand to tuck a hair behind Seonghwa’s ear. “Of course, my darling. It would be a shame and a waste not to show you off.” A satisfied smile ticked up the corners of his mouth. “I’m already the most feared man on the ocean. Let all the others lust over my beautiful prince so I can cut them down if they so much as look at you.”

Something twisted in Seonghwa’s gut. A strange mixture of fear and heat. Seonghwa leaned his face into the hand Hongjoong held at his jaw. “San looks at me.”

A bright giggle erupted from Hongjoong’s chest. “Of course he does." His mirth faded in the space of a blink and Seonghwa took a breath at the whiplash. "Yeosang thinks it would be better to dock on the far end under the cover of night when fewer people might see us."

"But you want to make a grand entrance," Seonghwa guessed.

The Captain's smile unnerved him. "Isn't that what you deserve?"

Seonghwa could either side with Yeosang and anger his husband, or side with his husband and anger Yeosang. He thought Yeosang would be more likely to hurt him, but Hongjoong would be more likely to protect him. Besides, wasn't that the first rule of marriage? To agree with your spouse?

"I don't think we need to hide," he said carefully. "Fever is a pirate port, and it would be a show of weakness to slink around in shadows." He wet his lips and looked at Hongjoong. "News of our wedding will have traveled. I imagine they already know." His fingers laced through Hongjoong's, careful of the clunky rings. "If this is the fastest ship on the sea and you are the most formidable crew, then what do you have to fear?"

Hongjoong cupped Seonghwa's face and kissed him on the lips, light and teasing and over before Seonghwa knew it was happening. "My beautiful prince is so well-spoken." Danger loomed behind the self-satisfied look he gave Yeosang. "Adjust the sails accordingly."

Yeosang inclined his head and walked away. Hongjoong returned to the helm and dropped Seonghwa's hand. Seonghwa assumed a dismissal and bowed his head.

"Have a seat," Hongjoong ordered, not unkindly, but with the absolute expectation of Seonghwa's obedience.

Seonghwa knelt at his feet. Hongjoong hummed tunelessly and ran light fingers through Seonghwa's hair. It felt nice. The sea breeze felt fresh on his cheeks. He didn't feel seasick anymore. Even if he still felt afraid of his husband more often than not, it could be worse. It could be so much worse.

-----

“Good morning, Prince Seonghwa,” Yunho greeted him. No one else used Seonghwa’s title as anything but a mockery and Seonghwa loved him for it. “What can I do for you?”

Seonghwa inclined his head. “The barrel of water we kept in Hongjoong’s quarters has run out.” He felt entitled whenever he asked for anything, but he needed water. “Where might I find another?”

Yunho looked beyond Seonghwa at the Captain’s quarters, then back to Seonghwa. “You’ll have to ask Wooyoung. He keeps tabs on provisions.”

Dread weighed down Seonghwa’s stomach. “Please, could you ask him?” Visiting Wooyoung in the kitchen sounded like a punishment. Asking Wooyoung for something sounded like hell.

“No.” Yunho’s mouth twisted sympathetically, but something dark passed over his face. “I’m afraid I have a lot to do today, Your Highness.” He bowed shallowly and continued on his rounds.

Seonghwa chewed on his lip and debated how to go about the task of getting water. Probably best to bite the bullet. He lifted his chin and marched down the stairs to the narrow hallway that led to the kitchen and the dining area like he owned the ship. He might as well own the ship; married to the Captain.

The door to the kitchen stood open and Seonghwa’s confidence deflated at the first sight of Wooyoung. Shirtless and glistening with sweat from the heat of the oven, an apron tied around his waist, golden skin peeking through black ink in sleeves up his arms and over his chest.

He looked up when Seonghwa darkened the doorway. “To what do I owe the honor, princeling?” He bowed mockingly, flashing the large knife in his hand.

Seonghwa lifted his chin. “I need another barrel of water.”

“Water?” Wooyoung raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. “What do you need water for?”

“For drinking.” Seonghwa took on the official tone he used in political meetings. “I dislike feeling dehydrated.”

Wooyoung laughed; an unnerving shrieking thing that made Seonghwa startle. “You dislike feeling dehydrated,” he repeated. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

“I asked for water, Wooyoung.” Seonghwa didn’t falter, even though Wooyoung flipped the large knife in his hand threateningly. He couldn’t show weakness.

A mocking face. “The prince needs his water and he needs it now.” Wooyoung wiped his hands on his apron and pushed past Seonghwa to continue down the narrow hallway to the storage room. “Come on then. If you’re so impatient.”

Rows upon rows of barrels and boxes lashed to the floor spread out in the storage space. Wooyoung walked confidently to a group of boxes that looked the same as all the others. Donated by Seonghwa’s father with the royal seal stamped into the wood on the top. He toed one of the barrels, then opened the box and pushed a large bottle of rum violently into Seonghwa’s chest.

“No water for drinking. This’ll wet your whistle.”

Seonghwa accepted the bottle, heart racing. “No water for drinking?” he asked.

Wooyoung smirked with his whole wide mouth and laughed high and reedy. “Not unless you want to be bent over the stern again.”

He walked away and left Seonghwa with the heavy bottle of rum. Seonghwa examined the label. He’d never been one to like ale. A nice red wine, or a light champagne, but nothing so dark or potent as rum.

His dry throat protested that taste didn’t matter and nothing on this stinking ship tasted good anyway. He broke the seal and took a long swig. It burned down his throat and made him cough up half a lung. But it was better than nothing. And Seonghwa was adaptable.

The heat of the day faded to a breezy cool temperature, and Seonghwa walked along the edge of the ship looking out at the endless water. His head felt light and a pleasant warmth buzzed under his skin. He marveled at the way the ship sliced through the waves like a pair of sheers through a silky fabric. They must be going very quickly, though the open ocean gave him no reference to judge their speed by.

Hushed voices behind the foremast whispered urgently and Seonghwa strained his ears to hear.

“They’ll use him to get to the Captain.” Yeosang’s low voice. “They’ll think they can barter with him if he cares about the prince.”

Wooyoung’s higher-pitched brassy voice. “Joke’s on them, Captain doesn’t care.”

That hurt Seonghwa’s feelings for reasons he couldn’t explain. Of course Hongjoong didn’t love him. He’d never even promised love. Not in any of his vows, not in any words spoken to Seonghwa or his father. Love was never meant to be part of this arrangement.

But Hongjoong had been kind to him. He touched Seonghwa carefully on their wedding night. He still kissed him softly sometimes. And that should be enough. Kindness and gentleness reserved especially for Seonghwa while the rest of the world received only cruel, mocking, indifference.

And Seonghwa couldn’t say that he loved Hongjoong either. He still didn’t trust him most of the time. But hearing someone else say so dismissively that Hongjoong didn’t care for him… It hurt.

He kept walking and watching the water blur and warp in odd shapes and colors. He shouldn’t care. He wouldn’t normally care, but he felt emotionally raw and fragile right now.

A presence in front of him stopped him and he sniffed loudly.

Yunho looked concerned, guarded. “What’s wrong, your Highness?”

Seonghwa sniffed again and realized his vision had blurred because of the tears in his eyes. “I’m crying,” he told Yunho.

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “I can see that. Why are you crying?”

Seonghwa’s lower lip wobbled. “I don’t need him to love me,” he said, “I don’t care.” He tried to sound aloof and important the way his father did. “I’m strong and independent on my own. He doesn’t have to love me.” Hot tears tracked paths down his cheeks and he wobbled on his feet as the boat rocked. “I don’t care,” he repeated, but objectively it sounded like he cared an awful lot.

Yunho took a step back. “I’ll get the Captain.”

Seonghwa pouted. It almost never got him his way at the palace, but Hongjoong seemed to like it. He usually kissed Seonghwa or gave him what he wanted. Seonghwa didn’t know what he wanted right now. He wiped his tears away angrily. He didn’t want to be crying, he knew that much.

San approached him, slinking cat-like and cruel. “What’s this about?” He stopped a step away from Seonghwa and mimicked his pout. “Poor pretty prince. Who hurt your feelings, hmm? Pity it wasn’t me.”

Seonghwa sniffed and lifted his chin. “You don’t make me cry,” his voice didn’t sound nearly as strong as he wanted it to. Why was he still crying? “You’re just mean to me. You don’t make me cry.” He sniffed again and grinned triumphantly because what could San say to that?

San stared at him in captivated awe. The ship rocked, throwing Seonghwa off balance. He stumbled forward and San backed away. Seonghwa blinked when he regained his footing. Shouldn’t San have tried to catch him? But he never tried to catch him when he fell.

Experimentally, he took a step forward. San took a step back.

Seonghwa reached out an arm. San twisted to avoid it.

An all-encompassing laugh tore from Seonghwa’s chest. The hilarity of his entire situation hit him all at once. The prince who married a pirate. The foolish prince who thought the pirate didn’t have absolute control of his crew. “You’re not allowed to touch me,” he laughed, tears still streaking his cheeks. “You can’t touch me.”

He walked forward and San backed up until his back hit the forecastle. Seonghwa braced himself with a hand on the wall, leaning over San.

“You can’t touch me,” he giggled. “I have all the power.” He laughed again - too loudly, louder than he meant to. “I’m not afraid of you, little pirate.” Seonghwa felt dizzy and unsteady on his feet. “I’m not afraid anymore. You can’t touch me.” He sniffed again and struggled to remember why he’d been crying in the first place.

“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong’s voice snapped Seonghwa’s head up. The sudden motion made him too dizzy and he sat down on the deck with a thump.

Hongjoong rushed to kneel in front of him, tilting his face side to side. Seonghwa giggled at the attention and hiccuped sharply. The suddenness startled him and he pouted again, hoping Hongjoong would kiss him.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong repeated - no dear or darling and that hurt Seonghwa’s feelings a little. “Can you tell me why you’re crying?”

“I’m not crying.” Seonghwa shook his head and pouted harder. He sniffed again, but his tears had stopped, so it wasn’t a lie.

Hongjoong stared at him in amused, captivated wonder.

“If I keep pouting, will you kiss me?” Seonghwa wanted to know.

Hongjoong laughed out loud and Seonghwa laughed too even though he didn’t know what was funny. “Oh, you are very drunk.” He looked up at Yunho standing at his shoulder. “I didn’t believe you.” He tilted Seonghwa's chin, fascinated. "But you're absolutely gone, aren't you?"

Seonghwa’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I’ve never been drunk.” He never overindulged at parties, and he didn’t like the taste of alcohol enough to seek it out beyond obligatory social gatherings. He hiccuped again and it hurt his chest. He whined softly in complaint.

“Come here,” Hongjoong laughed again and picked him up. Seonghwa clung to his shoulders as Hongjoong carried him bridal style across the ship to his quarters. Seonghwa stumbled when he set him down and crumpled onto the edge of the bed. “Seonghwa, you can’t get drunk on my ship.” He closed the door behind them.

Seonghwa pouted. He remembered drinking a lot of awful rum. “I didn’t want to drink it,” he whined, words slurring together a little. “I wanted water, but Wooyoung said there’s no water for drinking and I have to drink the rum.” He pointed at the nearly empty bottle he left beside the wardrobe.

Hongjoong picked it up and sniffed it. Took a drink. Raised his eyebrows. “This is all you’ve had to drink all day?”

Seonghwa nodded miserably. “I don’t like it. I don’t even like it.” He didn’t want to be drunk. He didn’t want to feel dizzy and emotionally raw. “I don’t want it.” His vision blurred again and he covered his eyes to stop the tears.

The bed dipped next to him and Hongjoong’s hands on his arms comforted him. “Hey, hush now. It’s alright. But I don’t think you’ll feel very good tomorrow.”

Seonghwa sniffed loudly. “I don’t like it,” he repeated in case Hongjoong didn’t understand. “I just wanted some water. But there’s no water for drinking.”

“I know,” Hongjoong soothed while Seonghwa blubbered through his tears. “I know, my darling. I’ll talk to Wooyoung. You don’t have to drink the rum.”

Seonghwa turned to wrap his arms around his husband and cry into his collar. “I never get drunk. I don’t like it.” His throat burned and he choked on his sobs and hiccups. “I don’t like it.”

Hongjoong petted his hair until he’d cried himself out. “Alright, dearest. I’m going to discuss your punishment with the crew and I’ll be right back.”

“Punishment?” Seonghwa’s eyes went wide and he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Punishment?”

The corners of Hongjoong’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Even a prince is not above the rules.” He stood and dusted his pants with a flourish. “You can’t get drunk on my ship, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa curled up around a pillow and sniffled the entire eternity Hongjoong spent with his crew. His thoughts spiraled around how Hongjoong must not understand that he didn’t want to be drunk and he didn’t like the rum.

When Hongjoong returned after an entire lifetime, he wore an amused smile. “You should thank the crew tomorrow.” He sat beside Seonghwa on the bed. “They’ve decided to let this be a warning for you since it’s mostly Wooyoung’s fault.”

“Wooyoung’s fault?” Seonghwa grasped for Hongjoong’s hand, needing something to ground him. “Did he lie? Is there water for drinking?”

Hongjoong giggled. “No. He just hadn’t mixed the grog yet when you asked.” At Seonghwa’s blank look, Hongjoong smoothed his hair sweetly. “Water doesn’t keep over long trips like this. It grows nasty stuff that makes you sick. We mix it with rum to keep it sterile so it lasts longer.” He kissed the top of Seonghwa’s head. “Don’t drink it straight.”

Seonghwa nodded importantly. “Are you going to kiss me?”

Hongjoong laughed. “No, my sweet prince. You’re drunk.”

Seonghwa made a dissatisfied noise and twisted his hands through Hongjoong's shirt. "But I never made it up to you," he remembered. "You said I could make it up to you later-" He hiccuped and it hurt his chest, which made him drop his head against Hongjoong's shoulder to mumble some more about their wedding night and repaying what was owed.

A soft giggle, and Hongjoong's hand carded through Seonghwa's hair. "That's right. You can make it up to me later, my beautiful darling." He pulled Seonghwa's hands off him and pushed him down to his back on the bed. "Sleep this off and ask me again when you're sober."

That didn't sound entirely fair, but Seonghwa didn't have the energy to argue.

-----

Hongjoong's hushed voice pulled Seonghwa from deep sleep. "I don't like to be on the defensive. I have San watching them. At the slightest sign of aggression, we strike first."

"Aye, Captian," Yunho's voice answered.

Seonghwa kept his breathing deep and even and his eyes shut. He felt like he shouldn't be hearing this.

"Have Jongho load the cannons. Everyone sleeps with a pistol in his hand," Hongjoong ordered.

Yunho exhaled sharply. "These strays don't know what they're up against."

"They'll learn." Seonghwa could hear his husband's smirk. A pause. "And if anything happens to my prince, there will be no survivors."

Chapter Text

The pounding in Seonghwa’s head didn’t go away when he sat up in the morning, nor did the nausea curling in his stomach. He rubbed his eyes and groaned, alone in the Captain’s large bed. Stumbling and still in his nightclothes, Seonghwa dashed out of the room and across the deck to lean over the rail and vomit into the ocean until his head felt light and his breaths came in short gasps.

When he lifted his head and his eyes blurred back into focus, he registered another ship floating a few leagues away. It appeared to be a trading vessel flying the yellow flag of the neighboring kingdom. It felt strange not to be the only souls on the wide, endless ocean. Seonghwa wondered when the other ship came into view. Yesterday? Early this morning?

Seonghwa didn’t remember a whole lot from yesterday besides bitter rum and crying over nothing. Unsteady on his feet, he sank down against the railing and covered his eyes with a hand. His head throbbed with every heartbeat. He felt gross and sweaty and would have ordered a bath if he didn’t know for a fact the others would make fun of him.

“Your Highness,” Yunho’s voice slipped beneath Seonghwa’s headache.

He opened his eyes and peeked through his fingers. “I don’t feel well,” he said shortly.

Yunho fought a smile. “The Captain requests that you dress yourself and join him on the forecastle.”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together to regain his dignity and pushed himself to his feet. “I won’t keep the Captain waiting.”

When Seonghwa felt presentable and climbed the steps to the frontmost deck, the entire crew waited for him. Seonghwa made his way to Hongjoong’s side, unnerved by the way they all looked at him.

Hongjoong smiled kindly and fixed Seonghwa’s jacket. “Good morning, dear. Wooyoung has something he’d like to say.”

Seonghwa tensed when Wooyoung stepped forward, but he stopped a few steps away and sank to one knee, head bent toward the floor.

As crown prince, Seonghwa was no stranger to people bowing to him, bending the knee, swearing fealty, or asking for favors. But for a strong-willed pirate to kneel before Seonghwa… it stole his breath.

“Prince Seonghwa,” he started, voice tight, but respectful. Seonghwa didn’t know how to react, head still pounding. “I apologize for my actions yesterday,” Wooyoung continued. “I misled you. I was cruel. It was wrong.” It seemed incredibly difficult for him to form the words. “I humbly ask your mercy and your forgiveness.”

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong, lost. Hongjoong’s hand wrapped casually around Seonghwa’s waist. “It was not your own irresponsibility that made you drunk yesterday.” Seonghwa’s headache intensified at his husband’s close proximity. “And if you so choose, Wooyoung will accept the punishment.”

A shiver ran down Seonghwa’s spine. What sort of punishments did pirates have for this sort of thing? Lashings, right? Wooyoung was an asshole for giving him the rum, but Seonghwa didn’t think he deserved to be whipped for it.

“I accept your apology, Wooyoung,” he decided. “You have my forgiveness and my mercy.”

Hongjoong clicked his tongue and squeezed Seonghwa’s hip possessively. “You owe my husband a great debt, Wooyoung.” His amused tone was soaked in danger. “If it were up to me, I’d strap you to a longboat and drag you through the wake for the entire length of time it takes me to make sweet, sweet love to my beautiful prince.” Seonghwa gasped so hard he felt light-headed. Hongjoong traced the back of one finger over his cheek. “And I do spoil you, don’t I, darling?”

“You do.” Seonghwa trembled. The weight of six other gazes made him want to run or curl further into Hongjoong’s protective arms. But he did neither. He lifted his chin.

Hongjoong pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Seonghwa's mouth. "And I would take my time," he informed Wooyoung. "My husband likes it slow. Likes the tease." He dragged a hand down Seonghwa's chest. "Isn't that right?"

Heat throbbed behind Seonghwa's temples. "Yes," he said, voice too breathy. The images in the forefront of his mind made his throat run dry and his hands shake. "Please, Captain," he hoped beyond hope, "I need to drink water. My head…" An impossible request since there was no water for drinking, but Hongjoong promised he wouldn't deny him anything.

Hongjoong hummed sympathetically and tilted Seonghwa's chin so he could kiss his forehead. "Of course, my darling." The twist of his mouth turned cruel as he looked down at Wooyoung, still kneeling at Seonghwa's feet. "Boil a jug of water," he ordered. Seonghwa tensed from the frightening authority in his voice. "If my prince falls ill from it, well…" he giggled sadistically. "I suggest you make sure he doesn't."

Wooyoung thanked Seonghwa and rose from his knee, still respectful. Seonghwa shut his eyes against his headache, but what really bothered him was how he couldn’t tell whether Hongjoong was bluffing.

Haunting notes floated down from the crow’s nest where San played his flute. The parrot liked the flute, and the flap of its wings added something uneasy to the already anxious melody. Blue sky stretched farther than the blue sea without a single cloud, but a sharp wind tossed Seonghwa’s hair into his eyes. The pirates moved quietly - efficiently - performing their tasks in a hurried sort of impatience, with frequent glances at the trade ship growing nearer every passing hour.

Seonghwa disliked the tense atmosphere, but Hongjoong, Mingi, and Yunho traded low words in insistent tones near the helm. Secrets. Conspiracies. Seonghwa couldn’t interrupt them. Wooyoung sulked in the kitchen since he gave Seonghwa a jug of hot water. San played his lonely flute high above the deck. Jongho disappeared below sometime after the apology, and the low rumble of something heavy moving around below deck led Seonghwa to believe Jongho had been tasked with arranging the cannons and ammunition.

That left Yeosang above deck. He sat against the mizzen mast and sharpened his sword with a pale whetstone. The ring of the metal added another layer of uneasiness to the song of apprehension that coiled tight in Seonghwa’s gut.

Like a pot about to boil over. Or a bowstring about to snap. The whole ship seemed to hold its breath, just waiting.

Seonghwa paced restlessly, watching the trade ship more often than not. It didn’t look threatening. Did that mean Hongjoong planned to pirate it? It wouldn’t go against the agreement of their marriage.

“Could you defend yourself in a fight?” Yeosang’s low voice startled Seonghwa so he tripped over his feet. Yeosang scoffed as if that answered his question. “Don't they teach you princes how to handle a sword?”

Seonghwa did, in fact, know how to use a sword. He wouldn’t say so out loud because he liked to be modest, but honestly and objectively he was one of the best swordsmen in his kingdom. The knights couldn’t beat him in a tournament. And not simply because they were afraid to hurt the crown prince. Seonghwa made sure he won fairly.

He picked up a sword Yunho kept in a corner and unsheathed it. It rang with a distinct finality. As if in drawing it, Seonghwa had somehow sealed his fate.

He tested the balance - perfect - and swung it a few times to grow accustomed to the weight. It felt good. A little heavier than he was used to, which gave it more momentum. He looked up at Yeosang.

“Fight me and find out.” Perhaps foolishly, he felt confident. They could think of him as weak and defenseless all they wanted, but Seonghwa knew he had perfect form with a sword.

Yeosang stood with a flourish. “Are you sure, princeling?” he taunted. “I wouldn’t want to make you cry.”

Seonghwa lifted his chin. “Fight to disarm.” He waited for Yeosang’s nod of agreement before he took the first swing. The ring of steel on steel sent a chill through his bones, but his instincts served him well. Yeosang underestimated him, which had him on the defensive as Seonghwa glided through traditional step sequences he’d rehearsed into muscle memory.

Yeosang’s sword hit the deck with a loud clatter and Seonghwa smiled triumphantly with his blade pointed at the pirate’s chest. Yeosang stared at him with awe and begrudging respect.

“So they did teach you how to hold a sword.” He bent to pick up his blade. “Again.”

Their swords clashed again with an arrhythmic ring out of sync with San’s flute. Seonghwa felt alert and awake like he hadn’t since he set foot on this ship. He ducked and twirled and stepped in practiced movements, nearly dancing. Yeosang didn’t fall back on his heels, he had a better idea of San’s skill now and fought ferociously, but messy. Seonghwa saw all his sloppy openings and forced him back against the mast.

A gleaming cutlass thrust between them stopped Seonghwa from disarming Yeosang again.

“You’ve studied the blade,” Yunho observed. San’s distant flute, the parrot’s wings, and the sound of waves against the hull of the ship filled Seonghwa’s ears. “Dance with me, prince.”

Seonghwa took a breath and twirled his sword. The weight of it felt comfortable in his hands now, and foolish arrogance pumped through his blood with every rapid heartbeat. Hongjoong said Yunho was the best swordsman on the seas. But Seonghwa might have been the best swordsman on land. He posed himself in the ready stance.

Yunho took the first swing - powerful, graceful, fierce. Seonghwa countered instinctually in the way he’d been taught. He raised his hand to strike again, but his sword clattered to the deck somewhere behind him.

Yunho stuck his tongue in his cheek with a tilt of his head. “Hold onto your sword, Your Highness.” Something dark and hungry glimmered behind his eyes.

Seonghwa picked up his sword, determined to anticipate every move. He struck first and their swords rang loud over the water. A flash of steel and Seonghwa’s sword slid away from him across the deck.

He stared at Yunho, stunned. No one had disarmed him so quickly since he was a child. No one had disarmed him at all in years.

Yunho grinned darkly. “I thought our prince had mastered the blade.”

“I have,” Seonghwa protested. “I don’t know how you- Is it the cutlass?” The curved sword, wickedly wide at the end, might make a difference.

Yunho shrugged and tossed it to Seonghwa. “Perhaps.” He picked up the sword Seonghwa had been using and twirled it in his hand. “Let’s see.”

A clash. A flash. The ringing slide of steal. Sharp pain in Seonghwa’s hand. He dropped the cutlass.

Yunho stood proud, leaning on his sword while Seonghwa examined his hand. It might bruise where Yunho hit him with the flat of the blade.

“How…” Seonghwa breathed, suddenly aware that San stopped playing his flute. The silence felt strange and apprehensive.

Yunho laughed. “With all due respect, Your Highness, I’ve never found it difficult to win a fight with a soldier.” He stooped to pick up the cutlass and slide it back into his belt. “You all fight the same.”

Anger flared in Seonghwa’s chest. “With all due respect, I’ve never lost a tournament.”

Yunho’s deep laugh sent a shiver down Seonghwa’s spine. “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

Seonghwa took a defiant step forward. “Give me a sword,” he demanded. He would not be shamed like this. Not with something he knew he was good at.

A hand tight around his wrist pulled him away. “Seonghwa, dear, what’s the matter?” Hongjoong’s voice sounded tight. A warning.

“I’m the best swordsman in the kingdom,” he seethed. “I refuse to be brushed aside like a child.” He tugged his hand to free it from Hongjoong’s grip, but Hongjoong held him tighter, nearly painful.

“Darling, I’m sure the world has never seen your rival in your fancy tournaments and jousts.” His voice teetered on the verge of anger and it drove a cold spike of fear through Seonghwa’s heart. “But you are a fool to think your little dance will save your life among thieves and pirates.”

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa whispered, trembling in the roaring silence of the open ocean. He didn’t know what to apologize for, only that he could not handle his husband’s anger.

The parrot circled above them, squawking, “Ahoy, ahoy!” It landed on Hongjoong’s outstretched arm and Seonghwa flinched heavily. “Fuck ‘em all.” Its head twitched to the side and its sharp beak snapped open and closed a few times.

Hongjoong released Seonghwa’s wrist to stroke the bird’s head. “Thank you, Fix.” He raised his bottomless eyes to Seonghwa. “Go to the cabin, lock the door, and don’t come out until I fetch you.”

“What does that mean?” Seonghwa asked, afraid.

Hongjoong growled. “It means go to the fucking cabin.”

Seonghwa stumbled back a few steps before he turned and ran.

The corner of the table pressed uncomfortably into Seonghwa’s cheek when he woke in darkness, slumped over Hongjoong’s newly-decluttered desk. A low boom shook the ship and Seonghwa sat up with a jerk.

He’d locked himself in the cabin as he’d been told and waited for Hongjoong to come for him. Night fell after he’d nervously cleaned and organized everything. He rolled the maps and placed them in order by geographical area, organized the pens and quills, and cleaned the jars of ink. He sorted the documents into stacks of death threats, pleas for mercy, inventory lists, and Captain's log entries scribbled on loose parchment instead of in their worn leather-bound journal. He arranged the bottles of rum and wine and ale in the locked cabinet in order of most full to least full.

But his husband didn’t come for him.

Another low boom rattled the glass bottles in the cabinet.

Seonghwa pushed himself to his feet and pulled aside the curtain from the window to peek out. Darkness shrouded the deck. He couldn’t see anything. Another boom - louder this time.

Against his better judgement, Seonghwa unlocked the door and stepped out onto the empty deck. The trade ship darkened the sky beside the Horizon, close enough for a horse or a very athletic man to jump across the water between. Pistols flashed, illuminating the sailors on the other ship. Another loud boom shook the deck and Seonghwa realized the cannons had been firing for some time.

Flashes of steel, the sharp report of pistols, the ring of metal, cries of human pain and exertion carried over the water to Seonghwa’s ears. A fight. An all-out brawl. Somewhere on that ship, Seonghwa’s husband fought for his life.

Seonghwa supposed he should feel distressed about that. Or maybe not. An arranged marriage - and not a very proper one at that - didn’t mean he had to love his husband. Hongjoong certainly didn’t love him. And might it be better? He could return home if…

A sound behind him set him on high alert. Hands grabbed at him, but he danced away, screaming for Hongjoong. A pile of rope tripped him in the dark. He yelled for Yunho. The hands pulled him up by his shirt. He yelled for Jongho, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Mingi.

“You are a pretty one, aren’t you?” A voice like nails on a chalkboard.

Seonghwa yelled for San.

The sailor who caught him obviously didn’t expect him to jab his elbow in between his ribs or spin around to knee him in the groin, so Seonghwa broke free to run back toward the cabin. The sailor tripped him and he skidded across the black wood. The sailor bent over him, salacious smile illuminated by the pale moonlight. Seonghwa wondered what Hongjoong would do when he found Seonghwa’s body. Whether he would mourn, or fly into a rage, or dump him at the castle doorstep as an example of his power.

But a short wet sound fell from the sailor’s mouth and he froze in midair above Seonghwa. Something warm and wet dripped onto Seonghwa’s cheek. The ship shook with another cannon blast and the trade ship burst into sudden bright flame. The light revealed San standing above the sailor with the wicked tip of his cutlass holding him aloft through his throat. Blood dripped from the end of the blade onto Seonghwa’s cheek.

He drew a deep breath as though his body only just remembered that he could breathe. San tossed the dead sailor aside. “Get inside and lock the door.” Harsh and pointed, his tone left no room for argument.

Seonghwa didn’t bother to wonder why San would save his life. He ran stumbling to the Captain’s quarters where he would have a better view of the burning ship. The cannon fire stopped, but the gunshots didn’t. The ring of steel didn’t. He could make out bodies silhouetted against the flames. Mingi’s large hat, Yunho’s two swords, San flying from a rope. Most of the sailors dropped in a longboat to row away from the burning vessel. A few shadowy figures crossed back over to the Horizon.

Seonghwa’s heart beat in his throat. Adrenaline raced through his blood. The fire burned magnificently against the black sky.

The door banged open and Seonghwa stood from the window. Hongjoong’s coat looked singed, ash darkened his hair on one side, blood spattered his neck and dripped from a cut on his cheek. The sway of his shoulders, the sharp clack of his boots on the floor, the way his tongue slid between his teeth, made Seonghwa feel overheated and restless. He dropped his smoldering coat from his arms, shut the door with a bang, and looked at Seonghwa.

The intensity behind his eyes made Seonghwa’s knees weak. He tilted his head, moved his jaw like he meant to eat Seonghwa raw, blinked like he owned him.

Hongjoong was hot.

The realization made Seonghwa’s ears ring. He took two steps forward before Hongjoong shoved him against the wall and kissed him. Hungry and burning. Nothing like the soft kisses he’d given Seonghwa before. He tasted like ash as he licked into Seonghwa’s mouth. Seonghwa gave what he could, grasping at Hongjoong’s shirt, trying to suck breaths in the nonexistent space between their mouths.

Dizzy arousal heated him and made him bold. He tugged on Hongjoong’s shirt. He wanted it off. He wanted all of it off. He wanted to feel the heat of Hongjoong’s skin against his. He wanted.

Hongjoong obliged and tugged his shirt over his head. “If there’s anything you don’t want, you’d better tell me now, Seonghwa.” His voice sounded low and breathly like it had on their wedding night, but sharper. It made Seonghwa’s heart race.

“I don’t want you to fuck me,” Seonghwa blurted, already breathless.

Hongjoong didn’t seem very pleased by that. He kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his pants aggressively. “Fine.”

Seonghwa hurried to take off his own clothes, blood rushing past his ears and a touch of fear lingering in his chest. Hongjoong faced away from him to turn down the blankets a sudden intense urge to touch him overtook Seonghwa. The clean lines of his muscular back, his strong arms, the smooth grade of his hips into the tight curve of his ass. Seonghwa reached out but dropped his hand when Hongjoong turned around.

“Am I allowed- May I touch you?” Seonghwa asked, nervous and breathy.

Hongjoong regarded him darkly.“My darling husband,” The edge of his voice stung like a shallow cut. “You can touch me however you want.”

Cautiously, Seonghwa approached to trail his fingers along the outside of Hongjoong’s arm, the line of his spine, to cup the generous swell of his ass. Hongjoong kissed him again, hungry and impatient.

Seonghwa didn’t feel nearly as scared as he should have. Then again, Hongjoong had never hurt him. And even if his roughly calloused hands on Seonghwa’s hips squeezed too hard, and his teeth bit Seonghwa’s lip too sharp, Seonghwa couldn’t say he minded.

His knees hit the floor before he realized Hongjoong pushed him down. He grasped at his thighs for balance, spread wide as he sat on the edge of the bed. Hongjoong’s hand in his hair tugged his head up, but not harshly.

“You told me yesterday you wanted to return the favor of our wedding night.” Hongjoong touched Seonghwa’s cheek with insistent softness. “Is that still true?”

Seonghwa had no recollection of saying that, but he nodded as much as Hongjoong’s grip on his hair would allow. “Yes. I’d like to- may I…” he trailed off, hoping that would be enough.

The pad of Hongjoong’s thumb swept over his bottom lip. “Say it.” A command.

Seonghwa shivered, looking at the cock curving against Hongjoong’s toned stomach on eye level. He blinked at it a few times and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Hongjoong pressed his thumb past his lips and Seonghwa made a startled noise, but sucked softly, mostly on instinct. Hongjoong cursed. “Say it,” he demanded, and pulled his thumb away.

“I want to return the favor I owe you,” Seonghwa rushed out. A slight tug on his hair told him that wasn’t quite enough. “I want to- I want you--” He dragged his gaze away from Hongjoong’s cock. “Please, Captain.”

“Fuck.” Hongjoong ducked his head. “I need you to say it, darling. I need you to tell me exactly what you want.”

Seonghwa bit his lip. He figured actions spoke louder than words, so he reached up to wrap his hands around his husband’s cock. Hongjoong’s grip on Seonghwa’s hair tightened to the point of pain, then relaxed. Seonghwa had very little idea what to do with the dick in his hands, but he figured Hongjoong would tell him if he did something bad. He watched Hongjoong’s face as he carefully pressed his lips against the head. Hongjoong looked expectant, if a little awestricken, chest rising and falling with every breath.

Still cautious, Seonghwa wrapped his lips around the tip. His tongue curled naturally around it and he sucked softly. A delicate, breathless stream of curses fell from Hongjoong’s lips and Seonghwa felt a thrill at being able to affect him like this. He made the decision to do everything in his power to make Hongjoong feel good.

He remembered how Hongjoong sucked him off and tried to replicate it. He swirled his tongue around the tip, hollowed his cheeks, pushed himself further down until he thought he might choke.

And Hongjoong didn’t hide his reactions. Breathy sighs, low moans, muttered filth, sweet words of encouragement. “Yes, darling, fuck.” His hand in Seonghwa’s hair tugged some, but not enough to hurt. “You feel so good. Fucking shit, Seonghwa, you’re so good for me. So pretty like this.”

Seonghwa ate it up; every word, every breath, every hum, every toss of his head, every bite of his lip, every tensed muscle. Seonghwa did this to him. Seonghwa took this savage pirate Captain’s breath away and made his face flush. Seonghwa made the most powerful man on the seas tremble. He felt high on it.

“Oh, shit fucking- Sweetheart, I’m- Fuck, you make me feel so good,” Hongjoong moaned low. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Gonna make me cum, ‘Hwa.”

Seonghwa blinked up at him and swallowed around him. A long string of curses, some of which Seonghwa had never heard before, preceded the feeling of hot liquid down his throat. The suddenness made it hard to swallow and he choked a little as Hongjoong slipped out of his mouth. Seonghwa fought to catch his breath, and decided he didn’t particularly care for the bitter, salty taste of semen. But the look on Hongjoong’s face, half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, pink mouth kiss-bitten and glossy, made it worth it.

Hongjoong pulled him up onto the bed and wiped away the mess on his chin. He kissed Seonghwa breathless again and held him close enough for Seonghwa’s neglected erection to press between their stomachs.

“Was it good?” Seonghwa asked, wanting to hear it again.

“Amazing,” Hongjoong kissed him. “Incredible. I can’t believe,” Another kiss, “You’re a remarkably fast learner.” He reached between them to take Seonghwa in hand.

Seonghwa saw stars, already too close. The combination of Hongjoong’s visuals, his reactions, his sugary words, and now the gentle tug of his hand proved almost too much.

“I didn’t expect- I didn’t think you would try that hard,” Hongjoong admitted, still breathless. “I thought you might not want me.”

Seonghwa clawed at his back, grinding his hips shamelessly into Hongjoong’s hand. “Not want you?” he asked with a needy whine in his voice. He was so close, almost to grasp the same euphoria he found the first time Hongjoong touched him. “Please, Captain,” he begged. “Don’t stop.”

Hongjoong didn’t. He kissed Seonghwa’s lips like something precious, and Seonghwa came with a weak, helpless noise.

Stars flared into existence behind his eyelids, burst into supernovas, and died out before he returned to earth. Hongjoong used the sheet to clean the mess off their stomachs and pulled Seonghwa close against his chest.

“You don’t know what it does to me,” he whispered. “When you call me Captain.”

“Hmm.” Seonghwa drifted on the edge of sleep, warm and sated and content. “Thank you.”

Hongjoong kissed his head absently. “What for?”

Seonghwa’s eyelids weighed too much to keep his eyes open. “Your kindness,” he mumbled.

The low rumble of a laugh under Seonghwa’s ear pushed him further into unconsciousness. “I've never been accused of kindness, my sweet prince.”

-----

Seonghwa didn’t know what to expect when he entered the cabin on Hongjoong’s summons, but it wasn’t this.

The Captain sat in his chair like a throne, reclined carelessly, leaning on one elbow, legs spread wide. In front of him on the floor with his wrists and ankles chained, kneeled a sailor Seonghwa hadn’t seen before. A prisoner from the trade ship. Singed hair and a torn coat. A filthy face and blackened hands.

Yunho stood to the side, cutlass at his hip, a knife in one hand, and wicked-looking cat-o-nine-tails whip in the other. Intense focus sharpened his features.

Seonghwa stepped around the prisoner to his husband’s side. Why did Hongjoong call him here? This appeared to be some sort of interrogation. Why involve Seonghwa?

Hongjoong smiled at him, a wicked glint in his eyes, and patted his thigh to indicate Seonghwa should sit there. “My beautiful husband.” He wrapped a possessive arm around Seonghwa’s waist when he sat down. “I’m so glad you could join us.”

The prisoner glared at Seonghwa, and he realized quite suddenly that he was a trophy. A symbol of power and status. Hongjoong wanted him on display. His part to play in this would be ‘sit pretty.’

It almost offended him to be reduced to that, but a lingering quiet fear of the pirate Captain stopped his protests before they formed, and the dizzying double-mindedness of liking the way Hongjoong touched him kept his lips sealed.

“This filthy worm was just telling me how he meant to capture you,” Hongjoong informed Seonghwa. “His Captain wants to take you from me.”

Seonghwa searched the impassive face of the prisoner. He didn’t want anyone to take him away from Hongjoong, least of all another pirate. He got the feeling he won the proverbial lottery with Hongjoong and didn’t want to recast his lots in that department. “But you won’t let him.” Seonghwa allowed a bit of fear into his voice. He could support his husband’s appearance of absolute power in the same way his mother did for his father. He could defer. He could blink his big eyes and look lost and helpless. “You won’t let them take me.”

“Of course not, my darling,” Hongjoong soothed. Seonghwa sighed a relieved breath and nestled his head into the curve of Hongjoong’s shoulder. He petted Seonghwa’s hair absently. “But these strays were fool enough to try.”

“Why?” Seonghwa asked innocently.

“Why indeed,” Hongjoong overenunciated meaningfully.

The prisoner shifted his chains and glanced at Yunho apprehensively. “Ransom,” he said shortly. “We could ask a ransom from both the king and from you.”

Hongjoong hummed in mock sympathy. “Now that you know you can’t just waltz in and steal what is mine,” his fingers curled possessively around Seonghwa’s neck for an instant, “You’ll try something else.” He glanced at Yunho, who nodded shortly. “What’s your Captain’s next move?” he demanded.

The prisoner didn’t answer, lips pressed tightly together.

Hongjoong traced the backs of his fingers over Seonghwa’s cheek. “Were you terribly frightened last night, my darling? Did this foul low-life cause my precious husband distress?” He seemed to expect an answer.

Seonghwa understood the true weight of the power on his shoulders when he looked in the prisoner’s eyes. Pleading for mercy in an impassive mask. As with Wooyoung’s apology, Seonghwa had choices. He could say no, he hadn’t been frightened, these sorry excuses for pirates couldn’t even frighten a soft prince. Hongjoong would laugh and use that against the prisoner, and probably wouldn’t hurt him physically. Or Seonghwa could say yes, he had been terribly frightened, and Hongjoong ought to protect him from this scary man.

A breath caught in Seonghwa’s throat. He did sympathize. But curiosity had buzzed under his skin since Hongjoong told him he would deny nothing Seonghwa asked. He dragged his gaze away from the unfortunate sailor on the floor to meet his husband’s deep, abyssal eyes. “Yes,” he spoke with certainty. “I was terrified.”

The smile that curled Hongjoong’s bowed lips was nothing short of deadly. Seonghwa’s heartbeat picked up. He wondered exactly what he’d agreed to.

The snap of the whip over his jacket made the prisoner sit up straight with wide-eyed panic.

Seonghwa startled further into Hongjoong’s chest, heart racing. Hongjoong circled a comforting thumb on the edge of Seonghwa’s shoulder. “That was a warning.” Hongjoong nodded to Yunho, who pulled the prisoner’s coat down to his bound wrists and sliced the back of his shirt open with the flash of a knife. “Tell me what Bangchan is planning.”

The prisoner set his jaw and said nothing.

Hongjoong sighed in feigned regret. “Have it your way then.”

The whip cracked again. Seonghwa winced and glanced at the door subconsciously. Closed and locked. He couldn’t just run. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes against the next snap of the whip.

The next crack pulled a cry from the prisoner’s chest.

Hongjoong rubbed Seonghwa’s arm comfortingly as he flinched. “Give me an answer and the pain stops.”

The prisoner spat. “You’ll kill me anyway.”

A wicked smile ticked the corners of Hongjoong’s mouth upward. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll let Yunho kill you.”

The dark expression on Yunho’s face as he knelt beside the prisoner sent a shiver down Seonghwa’s spine. “By all means, keep resisting.” His low voice was nearly a growl. “I'd love to break you.”

The prisoner thrashed in his chains. “I have nothing to tell you.” The chains rattled. “I don’t know his plans.”

Hongjoong tutted with a shake of his head and the whip snapped again. A more vocalized yell of pain made Seonghwa wrap his arms around his husband. “If you don’t know anything, then you are useless to me.” Hongjoong’s voice rumbled through his chest and Seonghwa trembled. He wanted to run all way back to his palace. He wanted to run back to dry land and never set foot on a boat the rest of his life. He wanted to run away from these cruel pirates and never look back.

But equally as much, he wanted Hongjoong to hold him and whisper kind, comforting words in his ear. To call him darling and tell him he had nothing to fear. And that was all kinds of confusing.

Seonghwa trembled when the whip cracked again. The prisoner’s broken shout of pain echoed in his ears. Hongjoong’s arm circled him somewhere between protective and possessive. “Hongjoong,” Seonghwa whispered.

Hongjoong kissed his forehead to show he heard him. “Last chance,” he said to the prisoner. “Tell me what I want to know or I’ll leave you to Yunho and dump whatever’s left of you overboard tomorrow morning.”

Seonghwa saw fear in the prisoner’s eyes. And desperation. And hopelessness. “He knows you’re going to Port Fever,” he blurted. “He planned to meet you there before we found you on the same wind.”

Hongjoong nodded thoughtfully. “Yunho, the whip.” He held out his hand expectantly, shifting as though he meant to stand up.

Seonghwa wrapped his arms tighter around him. He would whip this man to death. What a terrible, horrible, painful way to die. What an awful, violent, cruel thing to do. “Please, Captain,” Seonghwa begged, breathless. “Show mercy.”

Hongjoong settled, stroking Seonghwa’s back. “Mercy?” he repeated, searching Seonghwa’s face as if searching for the meaning of the word. Seonghwa didn’t waver, didn’t break eye contact. Hongjoong regarded the prisoner again. “Mercy will be swift, my sweet prince.” He drew a pistol from his hip and turned Seonghwa’s face into his neck so he wouldn’t see.

The gunshot shook the room and Seonghwa shook like a leaf against his husband’s chest. Terror pounded with every heartbeat, but he only held on tighter. How could he be so frightened, yet so comforted by the same presence? How could he want to run from Hongjoong and into his arms at the same time?

He could hear Yunho carry the body out of the room. The clink of the chains reminded Seonghwa of his bondage here. He took a few deep breaths in the curve of Hongjoong’s neck. So far, Hongjoong hadn’t lied. He delivered on all of his promises. Respect, honor, fidelity. Great sex. And denying Seonghwa nothing he asked for. That should earn him some trust, right?

“My darling,” Hongjoong whispered into his hair. “This is only the beginning of the scum and villainy that will come for you.”

Chapter Text

"Keep what you like and we'll sell what you don't." Hongjoong kicked the large trunk they stole from the merchant ship on his way out the door.

Seonghwa rubbed his face and rolled his shoulders, stiff from sleep. He couldn't call sleeping with Hongjoong uncomfortable. The bed had plenty of room, the warm blankets felt soft, and Hongjoong didn't crowd him or demand any sort of cuddling.

But he always rose at the crack of dawn and Seonghwa disliked waking up alone in a cold bed when he fell asleep with his husband. Not that he expected any sort of domesticity and not that he would complain to the Captain. He had work to do and things to attend and lives to ruin. Seonghwa couldn't expect to hold his attention all the time, and he didn't think he would want to even if he could.

Very little light from the windows aided the weak oil lamp in illuminating the room. Seonghwa swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared at the trunk, considering the moral implications of accepting a stolen gift.

In the end he decided it would be worse to insult the Captain by refusing the finery. He knelt in front of the trunk and opened the latch.

Satin shimmered in chartreuse and champagne. Heavy silk suit jackets glittered with brooches pinned to the breast. Airy chiffon shirts sported more ruffles than Seonghwa would consider tasteful. Jewelry clinked and clacked as he shifted his way through the garments.

He sorted the clothes into piles on the floor. He would keep the more tasteful shirts that looked like they would fit him. Very few of the jackets appeared to be his size, but a very pretty blue and silver brocade waistcoat fit nicely and an unintentionally coordinating jacket in a cool grey silk print with silver trim didn’t feel terrible when he tried it on. He kept a few pairs of trousers too - none tailored the way he would like, but they would do.

Seonghwa held up a beautiful dress with a deep neckline and wondered how the unfortunate owner of the dress must feel. He set it aside and sorted through the remaining women’s garments. Heavy walking skirts, ruffled blouses, and cropped jackets that wouldn’t begin to fit over Seonghwa’s shoulders. He held one of the blouses to his chest and liked the way the sleeves fell. Why not keep it? Who would tell the difference? Especially under a waistcoat?

He slipped the blouse on and checked his reflection in the warped mirror beside Hongjoong’s wardrobe. It looked nice. The gathered sleeves accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and the smocking on the high collar highlighted the graceful length of his neck. He liked it.

In search of the waistcoat he’d liked, he found a delicate yet sturdy underbust corset in a similar blue and silver brocade with silver details. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the structured boning and stiff form.

Why not?

It might protect him in a pinch. He knew from his sisters how difficult it was to stab a hole in so many layers of silk and canvas. He also knew how to loosen the laces and fasten the busk around his waist. He looked in the mirror before he pulled the laces in the back to make it fit.

It felt snug. Secure in some way. The clean silver piping in the seams tapered his waist elegantly. He replaced his trousers and his shoes and decided he looked elegant and regal. And who would stop him, he wondered as he fastened a jade bracelet around his wrist and hung silver earrings in his ears. Seonghwa was a crown prince and no filthy pirate would tell him what to wear.

The morning sunlight illuminated the room enough that Seonghwa doused the lamp before he walked out onto the deck. As soon as he did, he felt all eyes on him and fear clamped his lungs. But he held his head high and walked proudly to where Hongjoong stood at the helm, pouring over a map with Mingi and Yeosang.

“Captain,” Seonghwa said with more confidence than he felt.

Hongjoong’s eyes snapped up from the map and a momentary look of unguarded awe passed over his face as he took Seonghwa in. The moment passed quickly and he pushed the map into Mingi’s chest with a dark look in his eyes.

His hands circled Seonghwa’s corseted waist. “Fucking shit, sweetheart,” he cursed softly. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened. “Is it in bad taste?” Correction: One filthy pirate could tell him what to wear.

Hongjoong’s hand trailed up to the detailed smocking around his neck. “Seonghwa,” He spoke against the corner of Seonghwa’s jaw. “My darling.” A lingering kiss to the sensitive skin below his ear. “My beautiful, beautiful prince.” Another kiss. “I will lose my fucking mind if I don’t kiss you right now.”

The fear in Seonghwa’s gut turned to butterflies. "Then, by all means." He felt a little lightheaded at the sudden attention and he couldn't pretend it was unwelcome.

Hongjoong’s hand caught his face to pull him close and kiss him softly, like he meant to savor every moment of it.

"Captain," Mingi's voice interrupted, impatient.

Hongjoong pulled away from Seonghwa slowly, reluctantly, tugging Seonghwa's lower lip between his teeth. His hand on Seonghwa's waist tightened and he glared at Mingi.

Mingi cleared his throat, face cast in shadow by the brim of his hat. "We need to discuss the change of course-"

"We're not changing course." Hongjoong’s other hand fell from Seonghwa’s face to rest at the pronounced dip of his waist. “Hold steady. We’ll be there day after tomorrow.” He nudged Seonghwa backward against the wall of the navigation room and smoothed his hands over the corset. Seonghwa couldn’t feel his touch through the layers of fabric, but he could feel the possessive weight of it. He gasped out loud when Hongjoong’s teeth found a sensitive spot just under his jaw.

“Captain.” Yeosang this time, and he sounded more insistent. “The wind is changing. We need to catch the air if you don’t want to row all the way to Fever.”

Hongjoong growled against Seonghwa’s neck and the vibration of it sent a chill down Seonghwa’s spine. “Then follow the wind. We’ll get there day after tomorrow.”

“But it will take us too far east-”

Hongjoong whipped around to face them and the lethal look in his eyes made Seonghwa want to run. “I said,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “Do not change course. We’ll get there day after tomorrow.”

Yeosang looked like he disagreed, but he bowed his head. “Aye, Captain.”

Salt on wind-chapped lips filled Seonghwa’s senses. Hongjoong kissed him like he owned him. But Seonghwa loved every possessive twist of his tongue, the harsh tugs on his hair, the not-quite-painful scrape of sharp teeth. Wandering hands squeezed fistfuls of Seonghwa’s ass. Soft breaths mingled in the nonexistent space between their mouths. And the words Hongjoong muttered against his skin… Pure, addictive filth.

“So hot with your tiny waist, precious, and your broad shoulders-” A hungry kiss to his mouth, punctuated by a harsh bite that made a breath catch in Seonghwa’s throat. “Goddamn, you’re delicious, darling. So pretty for me, so good.” His hand crawled up Seonghwa’s chest to wrap loosely around his throat and play with the smocked collar. “I want to fuck you like this, beautiful. Want to make you feel so good.” The thin fabric of the shirt allowed Seonghwa to feel every press of Hongjoong’s fingers over his chest. “So fucking handsome in your corset, my darling. Makes me want to take you apart,” A lingering kiss. “Slowly,” Another kiss accompanied by a pass of his palm over the stiff peak of Seonghwa’s nipple. “Fuck, I want you so bad, ‘Hwa. Want to make love to you, give you everything you want.”

He slotted his thigh between Seonghwa’s legs and Seonghwa collapsed against the wall. This shouldn’t do as much for him as it did. This shouldn’t make him want to say ‘yes, Captain, ruin me.’ A few kisses and some petting shouldn’t make his skin prickle with fire and his stomach swoop with need.

Seonghwa didn’t trust his husband, he had to remind himself. He didn’t like this pirate.

But fuck if he didn’t love the way Hongjoong talked and the way he touched him.

“Captain?” he breathed, intending to ask to take this back to the privacy of their quarters. Perhaps tempted to let Hongjoong follow through on a few of his whispered desires.

“Captain.” Wooyoung’s sharp voice sounded upset, and Seonghwa hated him for interrupting.

Hongjoong pressed a few more sweet, unhurried kisses to Seonghwa’s lips before he looked up at Wooyoung. “What made you think now would be a good time to speak to me?” His voice cut sharper than Yunho’s cutlass.

Wooyoung swallowed thickly, glancing at Seonghwa’s corset before fixing his gaze back on Hongjoong. “I need you to check the repair I did to the forecastle.”

“Ask Yunho.” Hongjoong fixed his mouth on a spot just above the collar on Seonghwa’s neck and nibbled. Seonghwa had to bite back the needy sound that rose in his throat.

“Yunho’s busy.” Wooyoung deadpanned.

Hongjoong kissed the spot a few times and thumbed over it gently. “Jealous whore,” he spat at Wooyoung. Wooyoung tensed like a viper about to strike, but Hongjoong hummed softly, attention back on Seonghwa. “My sweet prince, I hate to leave you.” the backs of his fingers traced the curve of Seonghwa’s cheek and Seonghwa instinctually leaned into the touch. “I’ll give you a sword lesson this afternoon,” he promised, and hooked his finger in the top of the corset. “Best not wear this though. It will only distract me.” A sly grin and a cheeky wink. “Unless that’s your intention, in which case, never take it off.”

The harsh clash of steel reverberated up Seonghwa’s arm and Hongjoong smoothed his hand down the sleeve of Seonghwa’s new jacket to twist his wrist and angle the sword in his hand. “Not like that, dear,” he chided. “You can’t expect your opponent to attack from the front. This isn’t a duel.”

Seonghwa hated this sword lesson. He felt too tight, too wound up, too physically frustrated to retain anything the pirate Captain taught him. Maybe he never quite recovered from their heated moment earlier. And Hongjoong’s intimate method of teaching didn’t help matters.

“If I want to kill you, I’m going to target the places you’re soft.” Hongjoong pressed his hand low on Seonghwa’s stomach - now garbed in the nice waistcoat he found - and dragged it up his chest to wrap loosely around his neck. “You need to anticipate every lethal intention,” he spoke a breath away from Seonghwa’s mouth. His lips quirked up in an ornery smile and he stepped back. “Again.”

Seonghwa kept his sword close to his chest, but Hongjoong’s cold metal blade still ended up pressed against his neck. He pushed it away with a harsh breath. “If you would just explain to me the rules-”

“There are no rules.” The smile on Hongjoong’s face teetered between amused and unhinged. Unfortunately, it still made Seonghwa’s heart race and the tips of his fingers itch. He either wanted to punch his husband or kiss him and he honestly didn’t know which would be more satisfying.

“There have to be rules,” Seonghwa gritted out.

A light giggle and a flash of steel that Seonghwa instinctively blocked. “Don’t die,” Hongjoong offered. “Stick them with the pointy end.”

Seonghwa gritted his teeth and swung in attack. Hongjoong dodged effortlessly with another infuriating giggle and batted Seonghwa’s sword out of the way. Before he could recover, the chilly flat of Hongjoong’s blade trailed slowly up the inside of his thigh.

Seonghwa froze. Even with the sword, the way he touched Seonghwa felt reverent. Hongjoong stopped raising the steel just before the crotch of Seonghwa’s trousers and leaned in to brush his lips along the underside of Seonghwa’s jaw toward his ear. “You leave yourself so open, my beautiful prince.” Seonghwa had to flex every muscle in his body to stop himself from doing something terribly embarrassing like moan. Hongjoong nipped at his earlobe. “But I’ll protect you, sweetheart. And I’ll slaughter anyone who lays a hand on you.”

A deep-bodied shiver shook Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Then why bother to teach me?” he hissed through his teeth. He didn’t trust his voice to hold steady above a whisper.

An airy laugh against Seonghwa’s neck made him shiver again. “You were proud of your skill. We shot you down and made your hard work look foolish.” The sudden sobriety caught Seonghwa off guard as Hongjoong leaned back to look at him with careful patience and empathy. “That was cruel. I apologize.” Seonghwa stared at him in total disbelief. Hongjoong cupped his cheek softly. “You should be proud of your ability. I don’t think any of us could beat you in a fair duel. Not even Yunho.” His thumb swiped over Seonghwa’s skin. “But anyone we might meet on the ocean could kill you instantly, so I think it’s only practical for you to learn how to hold your own.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa whispered. He still didn’t trust his voice. And he didn’t know what to make of the backhanded compliments and genuine apologies.

“You’re more than welcome, my darling. I do enjoy spending time with you.” Hongjoong shifted the flat of his blade from Seonghwa’s inner thigh to the front of his crotch.

Seonghwa leapt back, startled by his own arousal. Why did his body respond to this? Was it just Hongjoong in close proximity? Had he developed some instinctual arousal from the handful of times his husband touched him? Or did it just linger residually from that morning?

“I’ve had enough for today,” he said. He didn’t wait for Hongjoong’s response, just turned on his heel and walked briskly toward the aft of the ship where the Captain’s quarters were. Hongjoong didn’t stop him, but he slowed when he heard Jongho’s voice in a hushed, conspiratorial tone around a corner.

“I just can’t figure out what Bang Chan thinks he’ll get out of it,” Jongho said. “The Captain’s version of paying a ransom involves feeding you your own genitals.”

Seonghwa stopped to listen, pretending to balance his sword against the wall.

Yeosang’s low voice answered. “Maybe he just wants to hold it over the King.” A short laugh. “And maybe he thinks he can hold the Captain off if he threatens the prince.”

Jongho snorted. “I don’t think our pretty little prince will go down without a fight. Did you see him with Yunho?”

Yeosang clicked his tongue. “Biting and scratching is all well and good for Hongjoong, but it won’t save him from Bang Chan.”

Seonghwa had gathered that Bang Chan was a rival pirate, but he didn’t know what Yeosang meant by that. Hongjoong claimed to be the most feared pirate on the seas, so where did Bang Chan fall on that spectrum?

“And honestly if it came down to Bang Chan with a gun to the prince’s head or Hongjoong giving up any sort of power, we’d be swabbing some pretty brains off the deck,” Yeosang continued.

Seonghwa’s vision darkened around the edges and he wondered if he was dehydrated. Because he couldn’t possibly be affected by Yeosang’s cold observation of Hongjoong’s detachment. Of course a hardened pirate Captain would value his power over his trophy husband. Of course Seonghwa meant very little to him in the long run. A conduit to more power. A prize to show off. A warm body to play with as he pleased.

Seonghwa lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and walked briskly across the ship. A loud squawk startled him into ducking as the parrot flew at his head. He batted at it with his fists while it crowed noises that sounded vaguely like “prince”.

“Fix, off.” Mingi’s deep voice set Seonghwa’s teeth on edge. The bird landed on his shoulder and cocked its yellow eye at Seonghwa as if daring him to make a move.

“Control your pet,” Seonghwa seethed. “I’ll have my husband kill it.”

“Fuck you,” The bird squawked.

Seonghwa snarled. Mingi petted the parrot calmly. “You will do no such thing.”

“Why not?” Seonghwa demanded. “None of you seem to think I have any power here.” Seonghwa hated feeling helpless and small. “He would do it. If I asked.”

“I’m sure he would,” Mingi agreed, the rasp of his voice sure, the shadow over his eyes impenetrable. “But you won’t ask.”

“What makes you say that?” Seonghwa spoke slowly, tasting bitter hatred on each word as they rolled off his tongue.

Mingi’s mouth smiled mirthlessly. “Because Fix will save your life,” he said. “I’m training him to find you. Protect you.”

Seonghwa scoffed. “Then do a better job.” He stared into the parrot’s shifty gold eyes. “If it attacks me again, I’ll wear its feathers on my collar as a trophy.”

He stormed past Mingi and closed himself in Hongjoong’s quarters, leaning on the door to take a few steadying breaths. He didn’t care that Hongjoong saw him as a prize to show off. He didn’t care that Mingi was training the damned parrot. And he didn’t care that something in the way Hongjoong touched him felt more addicting than the opium certain nobles indulged in. Maybe that described Hongjoong best. A drug that felt good at first, but would prove deadly.

Seonghwa sank to the floor, still leaning against the closed door and slid a hand lightly between his legs. His breath hitched, still sensitive and though not quite hard anymore, it wouldn’t take much to work him up again. He pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his trousers. He wouldn’t give Hongjoong the satisfaction. He wasn’t that needy.

-----

Hongjoong was right and they arrived at Port Fever in the evening two days later. Seonghwa felt apprehensive about the pirate port despite the fact his father had sovereignty in this area and therefore, so did Seonghwa.

Hongjoong offered his arm as they prepared to disembark, and Seonghwa took it. He swayed unsteadily when he stepped off the boat and onto the solid marina. A month and a half at sea made his legs forget what it felt like to stand on solid ground. He clung to Hongjoong, who paused to allow him a moment to find his balance and grow accustomed to the unmoving earth.

The other pirates gathered around them like a security detail, armed to the teeth and just as wicked as they looked the first time Seonghwa met them. A growing crowd lined the marina near the docked Horizon, curious to see the prince who married a pirate. The prince who couldn’t remember how to walk. The prince who would make a fool of himself.

Hongjoong’s arm circled his waist. “It’s alright, my darling,” he whispered. “One foot in front of the other.”

Seonghwa lifted his chin and took an unsteady step forward. Hongjoong held him upright, and he found it comfortable to lean on his husband. San growled at a group of children in their way and they scattered. Mingi wore his hat lower than usual and people gave him a wide berth. Yunho’s two swords clinked at his hips and he twirled a knife between his fingers threateningly. No one dared approach Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

And really, this wasn’t so different from a parade. Seonghwa walked among his people often; shook hands and kissed babies. Thick crowds of yelling people, all vying for his attention. But this quiet throng lining the street felt so much worse. Their hushed whispers and dodgy glances stole Seonghwa’s breath. The prince who married a pirate. The prince who didn’t fear the pirate nearly as much as he should.

He found his footing after a dozen or so steps and stood tall beside his husband with his chin jutted out proudly and his eyes narrowed. He knew he looked the part of the prince in the fanciest jacket Hongjoong stole for him over the blue corset. And Hongjoong called himself ‘Pirate King’, so in that regard, Seonghwa hadn’t even married beneath his station.

The tavern they entered fell into silence at the sight of the pirate crew. The patrons stood when they recognized Seonghwa. The tavernkeeper approached him warily and bowed. “Your Highness,”

“My husband and his crew wish to stay here. They’ve told me yours is the best inn in Port Fever.” Seonghwa knew his place here. They wouldn’t pay a dime for this stay, as implicitly stated in Hongjoong’s contract with the king. But it might be a fight without Seonghwa there to smooth things over. A group of pirates demanding a free stay would rub people the wrong way and cause all sorts of unnecessary tension. But a prince giving praise and holding an innate expectation of obedience would go over much better.

Surely the pirates could see that Seonghwa wasn’t completely powerless. Jongho let out an appreciative whistle to confirm that.

The tavernkeeper bowed again. “Of course, my prince. I’ll have your rooms readied right away.” He waved a frantic hand at a few serving girls who scampered off, presumably to change linens and stoke fires. “Would you like anything to eat? We have the best meat pies on the northern coast.” The tavern keeper looked hopeful, more than a little flattered by Seonghwa’s presence, but also terrified.

Seonghwa smiled politely. “Yes, thank you. We’ll have four pies, a pot of stew, a few loaves of bread - with butter,” he added. “And enough of your finest ale to drown a horse.”

Wooyoung clapped his hands in delight and the other pirates voiced their agreement as the tavernkeeper bowed again and rushed to fulfill the order.

Power, Seonghwa realized, depended entirely on image. Seonghwa looked like a prince and his people would serve him with respect. Hongjoong looked like a savage killer and people would obey him out of fear. But here on land, Seonghwa held jurisdiction and a higher title.

This he liked. He belonged here with this sort of authority. And having it back made him hate the pirates even more for making him feel so powerless.

When the serving girls brought pints and pitchers of ale to their table, the crew seemed to realize the extent of Seonghwa’s power. They looked at the bowing serving girls, the bottomless mugs of beer, the bottles of imported whiskey and well-brewed rum, and seemed to see Seonghwa in a new light. Yeosang nodded his respect, Jongho muttered a short ‘thank you,’ Wooyoung exclaimed loudly at the quality of the beer and gave Seonghwa an astonished look.

Yunho tapped his glass for their attention and raised it high. “To Prince Seonghwa,” he toasted.

“To our beautiful prince,” San agreed, clinking their glasses together.

Even Mingi grunted an agreement under the shadow of his hat.

Finally.

With a satisfied smile, he waved over one of the girls. “A bottle of wine, please.” She nodded with wide eyes. “Sweet. Red,” he added.

“You can’t get drunk on my ship, but you can get drunk here if you wish,” Hongjoong told him when the girl brought the bottle and a glass with their food.

Seonghwa poured carefully. “I don’t plan on it.” He set the bottle down with a clink on the table. “I think I made it clear I didn’t enjoy it.”

“You were cute.” Hongjoong stole the glass to take a drink of Seonghwa’s wine. “Pouty and honest.” He set the glass down, amusement playing across his clever features.

“I do not lie to you.” Seonghwa took a sip from the opposite side of the glass. As if that made a difference. As if he didn’t kiss Hongjoong whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Hongjoong hummed with a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps not, but the rum loosened your tongue.” A small giggle as he filled his plate from the steaming dishes before them. “I like to know what you’re thinking.”

“You care what I’m thinking?” Seonghwa didn’t hide his surprise. He liked to kiss his husband, but he didn’t have any illusions about where their relationship stood. Seonghwa’s place at his side remained a trophy. A conquest. A pretty bauble to flaunt or brush aside as he saw fit.

Hongjoong’s smile vanished. “Never again accuse me of apathy, Seonghwa.” Danger made the hairs at the back of Seonghwa’s neck stand on end. “This is your second warning.”

Seonghwa couldn’t come up with a response to that, so he took another drink. The wine tasted sweet enough and slid much easier down his throat than the burn of the rum. The food tasted much better than the stiff crackers and thin soup he’d endured for the last month, and Seonghwa indulged fully.

Two women in tattered skirts with their bodices laced so tightly their breasts spilled over the top approached Hongjoong with familiar confidence.

“What’s all this then?” one asked, hands on her hips. “Everyone saying you’re married now, Joongie.”

The informality and utter lack of fear made Seonghwa choke on his bite of potato. Of course Hongjoong had a life before he married Seonghwa. Of course he had other lovers. Of course they would be pretty girls with long hair and full breasts and shapely legs. Of course they would be anxiously awaiting his return. Seonghwa shouldn't feel any sort of surprise or jealousy. Didn't he know firsthand how addicting Hongjoong's private kindness could be?

Hongjoong patted his back soothingly. “I’m afraid they’re right, doll.” His smile looked absolutely devastating.

“This is your prince?” The other girl asked, jabbing a thumb in the air in Seonghwa’s direction. “He’s so delicate, Joong. He can’t possibly take it like I can.”

Seonghwa felt justifiably offended and opened his mouth to defend himself, but realized he might not actually want to say 'I can take it with the best of them, thank you very much.'

Hongjoong giggled and rubbed Seonghwa’s back. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

And Seonghwa had to wonder what that meant because they hadn't had sex in the proper form of the word, and Seonghwa couldn't even disarm him with a sword.

Both women pouted, but the first swayed her way to Seonghwa and sat across his lap without any warning, arms circled around his neck. “Pretty one though, isn’t he?”

Completely taken aback, Seonghwa leaned as far back away from her as the chair would allow. He looked at Hongjoong beseechingly to silently plead for help.

A louder giggle. “Isn’t he just?” Hongjoong reached up to trace the edge of Seonghwa’s jaw. “So beautiful. He knows it too. Knows just how to get what he wants.”

Both women ‘ooh-ed’ conspiratorially and Hongjoong stopped the other from sitting in his lap. “But you still miss a good pussy, don’t you, Joongie?” the one in Seonghwa’s lap asked, twirling Seonghwa’s hair between her fingers. “You still like some nice tits.”

The smile that twitched up the corners of Hongjoong’s mouth looked hungry and the tongue that poked between his teeth looked poisonous. “You know I do, baby, but I’m a man of word and I don't intend to break my vows.”

The easy delivery of that statement stunned Seonghwa so much he didn’t notice the woman on his lap kissing the side of his jaw until he felt the wet slide of her tongue. He pushed her back, hand on her bare shoulder. “No,” he whispered.

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated pout. “Oh come on. I bet you’re just dying for a good fuck. Can’t imagine our Joongie letting you top.”

Seonghwa looked up at Hongjoong who watched him darkly, gauging his reaction. Seonghwa wouldn’t dare ask for that. He didn’t trust himself to do a good job, and the thought of disappointing his husband made his insides feel shriveled and gray. He shook his head slightly. “Captain…”

“That’s enough.” Hongjoong pulled the woman out of Seonghwa’s lap and shooed both of them away. “Find someone else to tempt.”

Seonghwa took another deep drink, shaken more than he’d like to admit to himself.

“Are you alright, my darling?” Hongjoong asked gently, covering Seonghwa’s hand on the table.

Seonghwa stared at the rough, ring-adorned fingers covering his own soft hand. “I apologize, Captain.” He looked up at Hongjoong’s face - a quizzical mix of surprise and amusement. “I misjudged you.” He didn't think it would take much for Hongjoong to go off with a pretty woman. Or anyone who didn't tell him no, they didn't want him to fuck them.

Hongjoong lifted his hand from the table to kiss each of Seonghwa’s knuckles. “For that, I forgive you.” He pressed Seonghwa’s hand against the side of his face, coy and flirtatious. “Does that mean you’ll let me show you the meaning of pleasure?” A glint in his eye made Seonghwa’s gut tighten.

Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked down at his plate. “I don’t- I’m sorry. I don’t want…”

“Not to worry.” Hongjoong clapped his shoulder as he stood up. “I will be patient with you, my prince.” He leaned down to speak against Seonghwa’s ear. “Really, it’s your loss.” He walked out the back door of the tavern where a sign advertised a natural hot spring for baths.

Seonghwa shivered. Part of him wanted to follow, but Hongjoong would have invited him if he wanted him to come. And Seonghwa had always been a little shy of public baths. He asked one of the serving girls to draw him a bath in his room and took the bottle of wine with him to settle in.

They’d stay at Port Fever for a week and then set back to sea for another month or so. Seonghwa didn’t look forward to the exposed deck as the weather warmed up and the sun burned hotter in the sky. He wondered whether they would keep more water in the warmer months or if he should ask Hongjoong to make the extra provision since Seonghwa still felt prone to dehydration.

He sank into the warm water of his bath. They spared no expense on the floating rose petals and lilac scented oil. Seonghwa closed his eyes and allowed a month and a half of grime to soak off his skin.

The last time he had a proper bath was his wedding night.

His hands slid over his skin under the water. How bad could it really be? If Hongjoong - who had never hurt him and always showered him with kind affection - considered it the height of pleasure?

He pressed a fingertip against his rim, but he couldn’t relax and decided he should finish his wine before he tried. The sweet taste matched the sweet smell of lilac and the sweet way Hongjoong always touched him. He traced swirls and squiggles up the inside of his thigh, doubling back a few times like Hongjoong would. He could imagine Hongjoong’s voice, rough in his ear, telling him how lovely he looked, how flattered he felt that Seonghwa would think about him while he touched himself, how much better it would be if it were actually Hongjoong’s hands.

A light gasp escaped Seonghwa’s lips when he wrapped a hand around his dick. The empty wine bottle dangling from his other hand outside the wooden tub dropped the short distance to the floor and rolled away. Need buzzed under his skin and he breathed sharply when he forced his hand to slow down, to drag it out. His thumb circled his sensitive tip and he dropped his head back against the edge of the bath with a low sound in his chest.

He didn’t expect Hongjoong to join him until early morning, and he never liked to ask for this. He didn’t want his husband to think of him as high maintenance or needy. But a needy whine slipped from his throat as he teased himself.

He pictured Hongjoong as he looked after he burned the other ship. His free hand trailed up his chest to wrap loosely around his neck the way Hongjoong liked to hold him. The fierce, fiery, burning way he kissed Seonghwa that night, the hunger in his eyes, the flush across his cheeks and down his chest, the fullness of his ass, the weight of his dick on Seonghwa’s tongue.

Seonghwa shuddered in the sweet-smelling bathwater. Hongjoong’s dick…

He circled a teasing finger around his rim. Arousal and sweet wine made it easier to relax enough to press the tip of his finger in. Again, not bad, just strange. He tried to think about Hongjoong’s mouth on his neck or his nipples. The scrape of his teeth soothed by the wet softness of his tongue. He ached for the insistent warmth of his husband’s body pressing him into the mattress or against the wall.

“Captain,” he sighed when his finger somehow made it all the way to the last knuckle and still didn’t hurt. It didn’t feel particularly good either, but it was something. He released his dick for a moment to trail his hand up his stomach and roll his nipple between his fingers. An unsteady moan and a jolt of heat encouraged him to curl his finger inside him. It felt strange and threatened to take his breath, but he remembered that Hongjoong’s dick far outscaled one of Seonghwa’s fingers. He thrust his finger in and out a few times, tight and uncomfortable, dragging too much in the water. He bit his lip and attempted another finger. It hurt and tears sprang to his eyes at the sudden sting.

Seonghwa whined something that might have been Hongjoong’s name and gave up, pulling both fingers out and wrapping his hand around his aching dick instead.

“Oh, my sweet prince,” Hongjoong’s voice floated over Seonghwa’s mind. The deep, raspy tone that made goosebumps spread over his arms under the cooling water.

Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut tighter and dug his thumb harshly into his slit. He whined again and threaded his fingers through his hair to tug the impatient way Hongjoong had. Just this side of pain.

“Fuck, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong’s voice cursed. “I’ve neglected you, haven’t I?”

Seonghwa arched out of the water as he pinched his own nipple. “Want you so bad,” he whispered, half a whine. And he could feel the familiar brush of Hongjoong’s lips over his cheek, along the line of his jaw. He could feel the warmth of Hongjoong’s hand smoothing down his arm in the cool water. He could feel the puffs of breath against his skin between kisses. Seonghwa thought when Hongjoong came back, he’d ask to suck his dick again.

A sudden sharp pain in his earlobe snapped Seonghwa’s eyes open. Hongjoong lifted his face, grinning at Seonghwa’s shock. His hand pushed Seonghwa’s out of the way to wrap around his dick. Too soft and too light and Seonghwa couldn’t help his whine.

“How long have you been here?” he gasped, taking in the sharp angles and soft curves of his husband’s naked body.

Hongjoong laughed impishly. “Long enough, my dear.” He pulled Seonghwa out of the bath and didn’t bother to dry him off before he pressed in close, hands at Seonghwa’s waist. “You shouldn’t have any need for this, darling.” He curled his fingers under Seonghwa’s chin reverently. “You shouldn’t have to touch yourself.” Seonghwa shivered in the air, still dripping. “If I’ve neglected you it’s only because you haven’t asked for anything.”

Seonghwa shivered again. He didn’t appreciate the blame for his own state of neediness. “Kiss me.”

Soft and gentle. Wind-chapped lips pressed carefully and chastely against Seonghwa’s. But Seonghwa wanted to taste the salt of the sea and feel the power Hongjoong kept reigned in.

He pushed Hongjoong back, a little breathless. “No.” He wrapped a hand around the back of Hongjoong’s head to pull him closer and slid the other down his back to smooth over the swell of his ass. “Kiss me.”

The corners of Hongjoong’s lips twisted up into a predatory smile. He licked into Seonghwa’s mouth, gripping his waist too tight, grabbing a handful of his ass, biting at his lips, pressing the imprints of his rings into Seonghwa’s skin.

“Yes,” Seonghwa gasped against his mouth. “I thought I was stronger than I look.”

Hongjoong laughed, breathless and hot, and pinched Seonghwa’s nipple hard. “I knew the moment I looked at you,” he spoke against the sensitive skin of Seonghwa’s neck, scraping his teeth over the skin to leave a mark. “I knew you would be fierce.”

Seonghwa dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to Hongjoong’s naval. The rings suddenly tangled through his wet hair pulled painfully and he whimpered.

Hongjoong adjusted his grip so it didn’t hurt. “Goddamn, precious. Look what you do to me.”

Seonghwa kissed his way down Hongjoong’s toned stomach, over his hips, to breathe hotly against his erection. He looked up innocently as if to ask permission before kissing up the length of his dick.

He could feel Hongjoong shudder. “Holy fucking shit, Seonghwa.” It came out much higher pitched than he normally spoke and the fingers in Seonghwa’s hair twitched. “Who the fuck taught you to be such a fucking tease?”

Seonghwa grinned and pulled the tip between his lips to swirl his tongue around and pull away with a pop. “You did, Captain.” He had every intention of giving the best blow job of Hongjoong’s life. He’d learned to breathe through his nose the last time and felt a lot more confident now that he knew the process.

Tongue over the tip faster to make him swear with normal curses. Suck him deeper with hollowed cheeks to make him curse more colorfully. Take him deep enough to choke around him to make him lose words altogether.

Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa away harshly, breathing hard and trembling. He collapsed onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come here, sweetheart.” He swung himself up to lay back in the middle of the bed. “Come here, let me touch you.” Seonghwa climbed onto the bed over him, but Hongjoong manhandled him until he faced away, knees by Hongjoong’s shoulders on either side of his head. He rubbed his hands over Seonghwa’s thighs. “You’re so good for me, fuck, let me love you, my darling. My beautiful…”

He guided Seonghwa’s hips down and took him in hand. Seonghwa shivered through a moan when Hongjoong swallowed him down, deep enough to feel the back of his throat. He collapsed forward and caught himself on his hands, face a breath away from Hongjoong’s dick. He snuck a look down at his own dick disappearing into Hongjoong’s mouth and understood what he wanted.

Seonghwa went back to work, though his jaw ached a little and he could barely breathe. The simultaneous sensation of Hongjoong’s dick filling his mouth while Hongjoong sucked him off bordered overwhelming. Seonghwa lost his rhythm, unable to do much more than moan and drool around Hongjoong’s cock while Hongjoong turned his brain to mush. He pulled off suddenly, blinking through the tears in his eyes. “Captain, I’m-”

The entire ocean crashed over Seonghwa in brilliant waves of starlight, filling his lungs, crushing him with weightless weight. He could hear Hongjoong cursing, hear the broken, helpless way he cried Seonghwa’s name, feel a hot stickiness down his neck and chest, feel the warm comfort of Hongjoong’s hands turning him over, rubbing down his sides, wiping down his skin with a wet cloth.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong pulled a blanket over both of them as he wrapped Seonghwa in his embrace. “My darling, are you with me?”

Seonghwa blinked his eyes open to look at his husband’s beautiful face. Clean from his own bath, flushed from exertion, and so very painfully fond. “Hmm,” Seonghwa managed.

Hongjoong petted his hair. “There you are, my sweet prince. How are you feeling?”

Seonghwa blinked a few times and wrapped his arms around Hongjoong’s waist and tucked his head into his shoulder. “I like it when you touch me,” he confessed. “I really like it when you kiss me and you call me darling and you shiver while I suck your cock…” He trailed off with a sigh.

He could feel Hongjoong’s smile in the kiss on his head. “I like it too, precious.” He adjusted the blanket and pulled Seonghwa closer. “You can ask for what you want, you know. I’m not inclined to say no to you.”

Seonghwa’s last waking thought was wondering if Hongjoong would humor him if he asked to drink water instead of bitter grog when they sailed.

Chapter Text

The hand clamped over Seonghwa’s mouth filled him with panic before he fully woke up. He tensed, face pressed tightly into the curve of Hongjoong’s shoulder. He tried to gasp a full breath, to ask what the matter was, to push Hongjoong away, but the hand around his mouth tightened, rings biting into his cheek and the corner of his lip.

“Do not make a sound.” A whisper so soft Seonghwa might have imagined it.

He breathed shallowly in the darkness of Hongjoong’s neck, doing his best to stay quiet. Something alarmingly cold swept past his bare back and he pressed himself closer to the warmth of Hongjoong’s skin.

A footfall - barely audible - from across the room.

Someone broke in. Someone meant to threaten him or his husband. Panic froze Seonghwa in place.

The quiet ring of a knife drawn from a sheath. Hongjoong moved faster than Seonghwa could process the danger.

The pale moonlight through the curtained window illuminated only shadows and the flash of steel. Hongjoong disarmed their assailant who seemed stunned and slow comparatively.

Seonghwa sat up, pulling the blanket to his chest as if that would protect him. The moonlight bathed Hongjoong’s bare skin in silver and kept the attacker in shadow even as they threw punches and kicks and knocked each other into the walls and furniture of the small rented room.

Seonghwa held his breath, heartbeat racing in his throat. Hongjoong dodged a shadowy arm and tackled the assassin to the ground, sat on his chest to pin him down, and held the gleaming blade of his knife at the intruder’s throat.

“Who do you work for?” Hongjoong growled, voice still rough from sleep.

No answer. A flash of the blade and a cry of pain from the floor, but Seonghwa couldn’t see where the Captain cut him or how deep.

“Answer me,” Hongjoong demanded.

It should have been comical. Hongjoong - naked as the day he was born, hair standing up at odd angles in the dim light, considerably smaller than their attacker - winning a fight. But Seonghwa couldn’t have laughed if he tried. The lethal intent hung heavy in the air. Seonghwa felt frozen.

Another flash of steel. Another cry.

“Bang Chan?” Hongjoong dug the tip of the blade under the intruder’s chin to tilt it back uncomfortably. “Or someone even more foolish?”

“Bang Chan,” came the breathless reply, soaked in fear and pain.

Hongjoong scoffed and pressed harder at the delicate skin under his chin, eliciting a panicked gasp. “If he wants what is mine, he can come try to take it himself.” He raised the knife to strike.

“Captain!” Seonghwa found his voice. Hongjoong paused. “Please don’t- Don’t kill him,” Seonghwa pleaded. Having the knowledge that his husband killed people and actually seeing it were two different things. Yes, the darkness would mask most of the horror, but it would be worse than the sound of a gunshot, and blood would still be there in the morning.

“Turn your head away,” Hongjoong said coldly. “Don’t look.”

“Please, Captain,” Seonghwa begged. He couldn’t reconcile the beautiful, kind man who touched him with reverence and spoke tenderly to this cold, savage murderer. They couldn’t be the same. Oil and water don’t mix. “Don’t do this, please. Captain, I beg of you.”

Hongjoong dropped the knife back to the assassin’s throat and looked heavenward as if for strength. “Seonghwa,” He said. “My darling. Every moment I don’t kill him is another moment he might hurt you. I cannot--” he cut himself off to stop the intruder struggling with another flash of the blade. “I cannot let that happen.”

“Please,” Seonghwa whispered in the heavy air of the room. He could smell the lingering remnants of his lilac bath and Hongjoong’s sweat on the blanket. The silence of the night pressed in around him to make him dizzy with how much he wanted to be married to a good man. He wanted to be married to someone he could run to for safety and comfort and acceptance. He wanted to trust his husband’s decisions and never fear for his life. He wanted.

Hongjoong sighed, defeated. “Anything else, Seonghwa. Anything else you ask is yours.” He raised the knife again.

Seonghwa slipped from the bed to grasp Hongjoong’s arm and stop him. Closer, he could see their would-be assassin's face. Terrified. A new cut seeping blood down each cheek. Another dark line of blood down the center of his neck from a wound under his chin. The flap of skin on the fleshy fullness of his cheek shifted unnaturally as he moved his mouth wordlessly in a plea for help.

“Please, Captain.” Seonghwa ducked his head into Hongjoong’s shoulder, unable to look anymore. “Give him to your crew. Let Yunho do what he will. Let Mingi and Yeosang and San…” he didn’t want to think about what they would do to this man. “Only please don’t tell me. Don’t do this thing and don’t tell me.” He wrapped his arms around Hongjoong’s chest and trembled. “Allow me this innocence, Captain, I beg.”

Silence stretched on for what felt like a small eternity.

“As you wish, my prince.”

Seonghwa exhaled a breath he’d been holding since the beginning of the attack. “Thank you,” he pressed his lips against Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Thank you, Captain.”

Hongjoong shook his head. “Cover yourself and fetch Yunho from next door. Quickly now.”

Seonghwa scrambled away to wrap himself in Hongjoong’s oversized jacket and knock on the room next door to bring Yunho back. Yunho didn’t ask questions. He wrapped a hand around the assassin’s throat and dragged him out while Hongjoong explained he wanted the criminal dead by morning.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa said again when the door closed and Hongjoong returned to his side at the edge of the bed.

Hongjoong tilted Seonghwa’s chin toward him. “I do not wish to cause you distress. I’ll do my best to shield you from violence in the future.” He guided Seonghwa to lay down and pulled the blanket over their shoulders. The backs of his fingers traced Seonghwa’s cheek. “But I am what I am. Have no illusions about me. There’s a reason they call me Pirate King.”

Seonghwa fit himself against Hongjoong’s chest. He wanted to feel close. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Hongjoong’s fingers carded through Seonghwa’s hair soothingly. “You don’t need to apologize, dearest. Just understand that my first priority is to protect you.”

Seonghwa inhaled the smell of Hongjoong’s skin. The salt of the sea despite his bath, despite the rose and lavender and lye attempting to cover it. As if Hongjoong himself were born of the sea. Or made from the same stuff. “Thank you,” he repeated. “For your patience. And your kindness.”

A short laugh. “If you keep accusing me of kindness, you’ll ruin my reputation.” His hands rubbed comfortingly over Seonghwa’s back. “Sleep, my love.”

Seonghwa stayed awake a while longer turning over the words ‘my love’ in his mind until they lost all meaning.

-----

"I wish to write a letter to my mother," Seonghwa informed the postmaster in the cramped little shop that smelled too much like pigeons and urine for Seonghwa's liking.

The shriveled postmaster bowed and presented Seonghwa with a narrow roll of parchment, a quill, and a messy pot of ink.

Seonghwa bit his tongue and did not complain, though he thought such innovations as fountain pens would be commonplace by now. He added that to the list of things he would ask Hongjoong to buy him if he offered.

He scrawled his mother's name on the top of the little paper. Her Majesty the Queen. He skipped pleasantries and used his words sparingly to save space.

I am safe and well at the moment. My husband is not intolerable and cares for me as much as can be expected.

The need to dip the pen back in the ink every other word made Seonghwa irritable. But his mother would be worried and he wanted to hear from her before the week's end when they would set sail again.

More than I expected, certainly. He shows me kindness and patience. I'm not nearly as afraid of him as I should be. He is cruel, mother.

Seonghwa had to stop and debate how much to tell her. His sisters would want every gruesome detail, but the little roll of paper only had so much space.
All the stories are true. He does not fear death nor hell. But he has foiled two separate attempts to abduct or assassinate me, and I do believe he will keep me alive by any means necessary. There are times I suspect he's fond of me.

Seonghwa paused again to consider his words, nearly at the bottom of the page.

I will ask him to visit you at the next opportunity. He is likely to oblige me. He does tend to spoil me when given the opportunity. Give my sisters my love. I thank God it's me at his side and not them.

Not that Seonghwa thought of Hongjoong as being particularly misogynistic, only that it would be much more difficult for a young woman to hold the respect of a pirate crew. And while he imagined Hongjoong would be doubly as protective of a woman, he also expected that the Captain wouldn't be so patient with her refusal of his advances.

He wished he could ask his mother's wisdom in that area, but he didn't dare write the words down. What would she tell him? He's being silly. Better to lie down and take it than risk his husband's ire. But Seonghwa wanted his marriage to be different than his parents'. He couldn’t afford passivity or blind submission.

He signed his name at the bottom and rolled up the paper to give to the postmaster. "Thank you, sir." He dropped a few copper coins on the table and frowned at the ink staining his fingertips.

Yunho and Mingi waited for him just outside the shop. "Captain'll be busy for a while," Yunho told him. "We're not to let you out of our sight."

Seonghwa pressed his lips together in a fine line and nodded once in acquiescence.

The pirates led Seonghwa into a crowded market. Goats and chickens strutted the chipped cobblestone street like they owned it. Merchants hollered their wares and their prices over the hagglers in ripped skirts and dirty jackets and the pirates in stolen, ill-fitting finery. The smell of sharp spices, raw meat, overripe fruit, and spilled ale turned Seonghwa's stomach.

"Stay close," Mingi ordered gruffly. "I won't take the lashing for touching you."

Seonghwa wrinkled his nose, but followed closely. People gave way for him, bowing respectfully with a muttered "Highness" or "long live the king."

Yunho stopped at a stall selling dried meat. "Three barrels," he set two silver coins on the table.

The merchant - a weasely old woman with bones and ribbons braided into her rough grey hair - shook her head with a toothless grin. "Prices gone up." She pushed the two coins back. "Seven silver."

"Seven silver for three barrels of salt pork?" Yunho sounded disgusted. "That's highway robbery. I'll give you three. One silver for each barrel."

"Six." The old woman's eyes wandered over Seonghwa. "I know you're good for it."

"Unless there was some sort of freak famine that killed all the pigs, I'm not paying two fucking silver per barrel," Yunho growled. "And looking at all the store behind you, there's no shortage."

"Six silver," the merchant repeated.

Mingi nudged Yunho's arm. "Let's go somewhere else. There's better pork than this shit."

Yunho snarled, but moved on to stand in line at the next stall.

Seonghwa had little concept of the price of food or lodging since he never purchased such things, but he knew the price of pearls ranged between eight and ten silver pieces depending on the length of the necklace and the quality of the pearls. Raw jade went for as low as four silver. Seonghwa bargained a velvet brocade jacket down to seven silver once. Two silver a barrel seemed a ridiculous price for hunks of dried meat.

Mingi whistled a few notes and the parrot appeared - a green streak through the crowd. It landed on Mingi's shoulder and cocked its head at Seonghwa. "Prince," it squawked, accusatory.

Mingi spoke quietly to it and pulled a small note from its clawed foot. He made a sound in the back of his throat and shoved the note in his pocket. He fed the parrot a treat and gave it an order too low for Seonghwa to hear. It flew away with another screech. And Seonghwa tried not to be curious.

Another customer stepped up to the toothless old lady's stall. He wanted two pounds of salt pork. The merchant asked for five copper pieces.

Seonghwa tapped Mingi on the shoulder to get his attention. Mingi looked offended. "What?"

"How many pounds are in a barrel?" Seonghwa asked.

"Pounds of bricks or feathers?" Mingi deadpanned and Seonghwa couldn't tell if he was joking.

"Pounds of salt pork."

Mingi shrugged. "Usually ten or so."

Seonghwa saw red. He spun on his heel to march back to the pork stand. Fifty coppers to a silver. Yunho's original offer of two silver had been more than generous.

"Your Highness," Yunho protested as Seonghwa flattened his hands on the table and leaned over it to look the merchant in her watery eyes.

"What made you think it would be acceptable to overcharge my husband's crew?" He demanded.

She blinked at him and grinned her toothless smile. "You have the money. You can afford it."

Seonghwa tilted his head and twitched his lip dangerously. "I could buy an imported waistcoat lined with fur for six silver, and you really think I'm going to spend my coin on your dried meat?"

The merchant seemed to understand that Seonghwa wouldn't be scammed. "Your Highness-" she started to apologize.

Seonghwa snatched the purse from Yunho and pushed two silver pieces across the table. "I want three barrels." He stared her down with his head high. "Your best."

She bowed and rushed to roll the barrels out. Mingi and Yunho looked at Seonghwa like they'd never seen him before.

He dropped the purse back into Yunho's hands. "I want a fountain pen," he informed them, high on this power. He looked around the open market. "I saw some shops uptown. Let's not linger in this filth."

"As you say, my prince." Yunho bowed shallowly and shared a look with Mingi. "Perhaps you could negotiate the last few items we need to expedite the process?"

A gratified smile spread over Seonghwa's face. "I'd be delighted."

-----

Hongjoong continued to be 'busy' the next two days, occupied with secret meetings and dark deals outside the realm of what he could "in good faith" share with Seonghwa.

But he told Seonghwa to buy himself whatever he wanted and entertain himself however he saw fit. As long as he went nowhere without an escort.

So far, Seonghwa had gained two pairs of tailored trousers, a wide-brimmed felt hat with a bright blue ostrich feather in the band, a black leather coat similar to ones the pirates wore to keep out the wet, and a pair of nice boots that wouldn't slide on a rain-slick deck. And a beautiful new fountain pen that he kept locked in a chest in their rented room.

But Seonghwa found much less entertainment in shopping than in sitting at the back of the tavern and watching Yeosang win card game after dice game, bet after bet.

Many other sailors accused him of cheating, but no one ever caught him. Seonghwa watched another sailor pull an ace from his sleeve beneath the table and Yeosang still won. If Yeosang cheated, he was good at it and Seonghwa never caught him.

Mingi sat next to Seonghwa nursing a glass of beer. He and Yunho traded off babysitting Seonghwa every few hours. The parrot came and went. Sometimes with a note tied to its foot, sometimes with a colored ribbon in its beak.

Now, it cackled on Mingi's shoulder while Yeosang took bets on a running arm wrestling competition Jongho intended to win.

“Bet on your strong man,” Yeosang called, collecting and counting coins. “Jongho of the Horizon or BM of the Inferno.”

The bets stacked up against Jongho, and Seonghwa could see why. BM stood more than a little taller and rippled with intimidating, flashy muscles. But Jongho didn’t seem intimidated. Seonghwa knew how easily he tossed solid iron cannonballs around the belly of the ship and how sturdy he always seemed to be in helping Wooyoug climb or reach a bit of the ship that needed repair. Still, Seonghwa didn’t know if he would bet on Jongho.

The match began with a signal from Yeosang and neither arm moved. Both sailors focused intently on their locked hands and the gathered crowd yelled encouragements or profanities and splashed ale all over themselves in their excitement.

The parrot retreated to the rafters, startled by the noise.

BM took a slight advantage, just a few degrees. Red flushed both their faces and sweat gleamed from their foreheads.

Mingi whistled the notes to call the parrot, and Fix descended in a swoop that made Seonghwa raise a hand to cover his head in defense. Mingi snickered as he tied a note to the bird’s leg. “To the Captain,” he instructed. The parrot flew out of a high window in the tavern wall.

When Seonghwa looked back to the arm wrestling match, Jongho had a large lead, halfway to the table. BM seemed to suddenly give up and his hand hit the table hard. The crowd uproared, crying foul play.

“Cheating. No way he could win that many.”
“I smell a rat.”
“That Yeosang fellow’s fixing the games.”
“I want my money back.”

The gathering became more heated, ganging up on Jongho and Yeosang. BM stood up, still red in the face, and pointed at Jongho with harsh accusations. The tension in the atmosphere could only break with violence, and Seonghwa didn’t think he could make it out of the tavern before all hell broke loose.

He stood up with a scrape of his chair and a flip of the red lining of his new jacket. Everyone froze, silent for the first time since the competition started. Power simmered under Seonghwa’s skin. He walked slowly toward the table, commanding the room’s full attention without saying a word.

Seonghwa couldn’t say what came over him in that instant. “I will challenge.” He knew he wouldn’t - couldn’t - win. But winning wasn’t the point. He only needed to distract, or else give this game some level of authenticity. Part of him wondered if Jongho would throw the match out of respect. Anyone else would.

The onlookers cast their bets. Yeosang’s eyes shone at all the money. They would win a great deal if Jongho didn’t throw the match. Seonghwa held eye contact with Jongho and wet his lips, wondering how to convey the thought that Jongho should win.

A small smile pushed the pirate’s cheeks up unevenly. He understood. He must. “You’ll speak up for me,” he said quietly. “I won’t take the lashing for touching you if the Captain finds out.”

Seonghwa nodded and braced himself as Jongho’s solid hand wrapped around his, rough and calloused and dirty, a little slick with sweat.

Yeosang gave the signal. Seonghwa’s hand hit the table.

He pulled his arm back, shaking the sharp pain of the impact out of his hand. Jongho looked surprised, Yeosang looked deliriously happy, and every one of the spectators looked dismayed.

Seonghwa laughed, cradling his hand against his chest. “I’d say he’s every bit the threat he claims to be.”

Yeosang packed up the money and clapped Jongho on the back while disappointed drunks went back to their own tables and their own business.

Seonghwa looked around for Mingi. He wanted to find Hongjoong. It had been long enough to perform every sin in the book, and he wanted his husband’s company.

Yeosang stopped him and bowed low. “I think I owe you a debt, your Highness.” He sounded genuine. Respectful. The title didn’t mock Seonghwa.

The power sizzling under Seonghwa’s skin flared in lightning strikes all the way to his fingertips. “I’m sure it is my duty to defend my husband’s crew in the small ways I can,” he said with the false modesty only a royal can perfect. “As you would defend me.”

“Of course,” Yeosang bowed his head again, less sincere, but still a far cry better than before.

Jongho also bowed. “Please don’t tell the Captain I hurt you.”

Seonghwa examined his hand. “You didn’t hurt me. There’s no mark.” He smiled generously, still high on this power. “I wouldn’t allow him to administer a punishment for a game I chose to lose.” He left Jongho and stood in front of Mingi with his hands on his hips. “Where is my husband?” he asked.

Mingi’s hat shaded his eyes, but his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Ruling from the throne of hell.”

Seonghwa frowned. “I wish to see him.”

“I’m sure he’ll want to wash up first.” He tilted his head back to look at Seonghwa through narrow, slanted eyes. “Since blood seems to offend you.”

Seonghwa’s resentful frown tightened. He didn’t like it when his husband murdered people, but he didn’t think that was unreasonable. “When will Yunho replace you as my guard?”

Mingi took a long drink of his beer. “Never soon enough, my prince.”

At least the feeling was mutual.

-----

On their fifth day at Port Fever, Seonghwa received a letter from his mother.

My dearest Seonghwa,
Take care in all you do and who you trust. The King often boasts of being the first to enlist the aid of pirates in his navy. If I were you, I would be wary of yellow flags. Our neighbors have always been competitive and if there have been attempts on your life, I doubt they will stop.
I am glad to know your husband treats you with kindness. I think he is likely very fond of you. You are so easy to love, my son. And you should not fear affection should you feel it. Allow yourself a chance at happiness.
Be strong and courageous. I have faith you will do well on the seas. But do come visit soon. Your sisters and I miss you terribly.

Seonghwa dropped a few coins on the counter for the postmaster and tucked the letter in his pocket. If his father boasted of being the first navy to enlist pirates, there were likely others. He thought back to the ship they burned. It flew a yellow flag, didn’t it? Perhaps the Queen knew more than she could express in a letter.

Yunho waited for him outside the shop. “Did you receive good news, your Highness?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “I would like to speak with my husband.”

The parrot shrieked as it dove from the sky to land with a clumsy flutter on Yunho’s outstretched arm. “Fuck you,” it said to Seonghwa. Seonghwa made a face at it.

Yunho scanned the note tied to its foot. “I’m afraid the Captain will be unavailable until this evening.”

Seonghwa didn’t want to know what Hongjoong did all day. He suspected Mingi’s distasteful jokes hit close to the truth. But his mother might be right and Hongjoong might be very fond of him. It seemed that way a lot of the time. And Seonghwa thought he might enjoy this time away from the responsibilities of running a ship to spend getting to know his husband.

“This evening,” he repeated. “Is he likely to be injured?” He came back with a scratch down his arm last night. Like someone had grabbed for him and their nail snagged his skin. But Seonghwa didn’t ask, and Hongjoong didn’t acknowledge it. He allowed Seonghwa to sleep with an arm around his waist and his head tucked in the curve of Hongjoong’s neck, but he didn’t say anything about what he’d done all day.

Yunho shrugged a shoulder and the bird flew away. “No more likely than usual.”

Pointedly vague. It irritated Seonghwa if he thought about it too hard. Hongjoong didn’t trust him. Or thought he could be distracted with glittery baubles. The shallow prince who cared more about his clothing than his husband.

The pirate who cared more about his secrets and his violence than his prince.

“However,” Yunho continued. “I’ll be joining him and Mingi asked for a day to himself.” Code for: a day without having to babysit a pouty prince, Seonghwa knew. “San and Wooyoung will accompany you.”

That sounded like a wonderful way to spend a day. Subjected to San’s constant belittling comments and Wooyoung’s loud mockery. Seonghwa set his jaw. “I’d like to go back to the tailor,” he informed Yunho. “Hongjoong could use a new coat.”

Yunho raised his eyebrows, but dutifully led Seonghwa down the street to where San and Wooyoung planned to meet him.

Seonghwa heard them before he saw them outside a jewelry shop. Wooyoung shouted at the shopkeeper’s wagging finger while San fought the grip of a large young man - presumably the shopkeeper’s son.

Yunho exhaled sharply through his nose. “Good luck, your Highness.” And Yunho was gone.

Seonghwa stepped into the middle of the mess to make sense of the problem. The shopkeeper’s son grabbed at San, but never quite got a hold. San slipped through his fingers like oil and threw a few punches for good measure, but it didn’t seem like a life-or-death fight.

“I paid for it fair and square!” Wooyoung shouted at the shopkeeper.

“He didn’t,” the shopkeeper protested, pointing at San. “That pocket watch is inlaid with mother of fucking pearl. It’s worth more than your sorry life.”

Seonghwa raised his hands and made his presence known. “What’s going on here?” He looked at San. “San?”

San sneered. “They’re accusing me of stealing a pocket watch.” He pulled a tarnished brass pocket watch out of his waistcoat. “This is the only watch I’ve ever owned.” He threw it at the jeweler, who caught it with a startled noise. “Take it if you want it. Belonged to my father, God rest his soul.”

The shopkeeper scowled at the watch and shoved it against Wooyoung’s chest. “You took it, I know you took it.”

Wooyoung caught the watch and pushed the shopkeeper back. “He didn’t. We paid for our rings.” He gave Seonghwa a stiff up and down with his lips pursed. “Let his Royal Highness Prince Seonghwa pass judgment.”

“Arrest this filthy pirate.” The shopkeeper shook his fist in the air. “Thieves and liars.”

Seonghwa understood his power. He could have San arrested. Hanged. Whether or not San actually stole anything was completely irrelevant. It buzzed under Seonghwa’s skin. He took a few slow steps toward San, relishing how the tides turned. “They think you stole a pocket watch.” San didn’t back away and didn’t break eye contact. “Pity I have more power than you,” Seonghwa whispered.

San’s eyes widened momentarily and he seemed to realize exactly what Seonghwa might choose to do. But he didn’t beg. Seonghwa didn't expect him to.

Seonghwa looked at the jeweler and sighed heavily. “I’m afraid you must be mistaken, sir.” He felt a buzzing surge under his skin. “That doesn’t sound like something he would do.”

The shopkeeper looked for a moment like he might argue, but he only bowed with muttered, “Your Highness.”

“Come,” Seonghwa beckoned his escorts. “I want to see the tailor before he closes for the day.”

San stared at Seonghwa with something that might have been respect. Or gratitude. Wooyoung looked at him in open awe.

“You saved his life,” Wooyoung said softly after they walked away. “You could have had him killed. Both of us,” he realized.

Seonghwa hummed his agreement. “I believe you owe me twice, Wooyoung.” He stopped and faced San. “And now we’re even.”

San considered for a moment. “I suppose we are.” From his pocket, he pulled a pair of delicate earrings shaped like daylilies and glittering in the sunlight. He dropped them into Seonghwa's hand. "Consider this a truce." He crossed a hand behind his back and bowed from the waist.

Whether or not they were stolen, Seonghwa liked the way they sparkled. And who was he to deny a truce? Lightning sparked through Seonghwa’s nerves. He could get used to this.

-----

Seonghwa watched a drip of candle wax tumble down the side of the pale taper candle he lit when he knew for sure Hongjoong would join him for dinner in their rented room. It felt silly now. To have done something so romantic. What with the tense silence of unspoken secrets between them. Seonghwa had to wonder why he'd romanticized Hongjoong in his head this last week. When had Hongjoong ever seemed like the type to enjoy a pleasant conversation over a candlelit dinner?

"I wrote to my mother," Seonghwa said to fill the silence.

Hongjoong looked up from his plate. "Oh? Did you tell her how awful I am and how much I neglect you?" Only half a joke. Mingi told him how much Seonghwa complained about his absence and he looked at Seonghwa with the most intensely unreadable expression Seonghwa couldn't make heads or tails of.

Seonghwa took a sip of his wine. Dry and bitter, a little sour. It set his teeth on edge. "She told me my father claims to be the first to enlist pirates in his navy."

Hongjoong snorted. "I am no one's navy."

"But if other kings are paying pirates to do their will, it might be wise to be wary of any other pirates-"

Hongjoong's steak knife hit the table beside his plate and stood there embedded in the solid wood when he let go. "What exactly do you think I've been doing while I'm neglecting you?" Poison. Danger.

Seonghwa moved back in his chair but sat up straighter. "I don't know," he said pointedly, irritation leaking into his own voice. "No one will tell me."

Hongjoong met his eyes and softened with a deep breath. "Suffice to say your mother is right and money speaks louder than titles." He flicked the steak knife to watch it bob back and forth. "My reputation isn't enough to end this particular threat."

"Your reputation?" Seonghwa repeated. "Of thievery and murder?"

"Yes," he hissed. "Some people need a reminder that crossing the Pirate King means certain death."

"So that's what you've been doing?" Seonghwa pushed his plate away, appetite gone. "Stabilizing your reputation?"

Hongjoong pulled the knife out of the table and set it on his plate with a clatter. "I thought you wanted to be innocent of the knowledge." Those words cut sharp.

"I want to know what you're doing." Seonghwa picked up his wine glass, then set it down again with a harsh shake of his head. "I'm trying to trust you. I don't like secrets."

A low giggle. "I can't give you the names of all the people I've killed, Seonghwa." He looked like every nightmare, like every monster story mothers tell their children so they'll behave. "I don't know them."

Seonghwa swallowed thickly. "Why kill them?" He told himself he wanted to hear the answer. He told himself knowing would rationalize it. Make it okay somehow.

Hongjoong looked at him sharply. "I'm eliminating threats."

"What sort of threats?" It wouldn't help to know, Seonghwa realized. But he hated secrets and he wanted so badly to trust his husband.

"Terrible ones." The tone marked the end of the discussion, but Seonghwa wouldn't let it go.

"Tell me," he insisted. "I thought I was stronger than I look."

"Do you really want to know?" A challenge. "Do you want to know the things they say about you? Do you want to know what they tell me when they no longer fear death because he's got his fist around their throat?" Hongjoong touched Seonghwa's neck softly, at odds with his sharp words and the terrible sneer on his mouth. "Do you want me to tell you how they want to watch you cry, want to watch you bleed, want to break you and crush you into helpless submission? Do you want to know the ways they would rape you? The ways they want to hear you beg for life and scream and sob until they steal your voice away?" He paused to twine his fingers through Seonghwa's and pet the back of his hand. "You are so pretty when you cry, my darling. But you must promise not to shed a tear for anyone but me."

Seonghwa couldn't breathe. Fear froze his lungs and stole his breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Hongjoong released his trembling hand and stood up. "What do I have to do to make you understand that my first priority is your safety?"

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around himself. His throat felt tight and his eyes felt hot. He never wanted Hongjoong to be angry with him. And the threat of someone - even Hongjoong - torturing him didn't seem real until now. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Hongjoong paced the room, restless. "I'll do it. Whatever it is. Whatever it takes for you to trust me."

Seonghwa turned his face away and squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. "I cannot trust you, Captain," he whispered. "Cruelty comes so easily to you. I don't expect to escape it."

A long, heavy silence followed, broken only by Seonghwa's soft sniff as a hot tear betrayed him.

He felt so small. Like he might fade away into nothing. What good is a prince if he can't wield his power? And what good was marriage if he couldn't trust anyone? It ached in his chest - the distrust, the constant wariness. Another tear fell, tracing a line down his cheek too like the ghost of Hongjoong's fingers.

"I will return you to your palace." Not a trace of humor in the Captain's tone. Cool resignation. Apathy. "I was foolish to think a flower would flourish underwater."

The door clicked shut behind him. Seonghwa felt a tight burn in his chest eating away at his heart and his lungs. Not wild flames, but low embers that spread slowly with a burning hurt.

Rejection. Perhaps he wanted too badly to find love. Perhaps he wanted too badly to find goodness in a savage pirate. Perhaps he asked too much of the world and abused his power and deserved this. Because when he returned to the palace, it would be a defeat. His father would look at him with pity and disgust. The prince who married a pirate. The prince who couldn't please the pirate. The foolish prince who thought a pirate could love him.

A drip of pale candle wax hit the table near the scar from Hongjoong's knife.

Seonghwa wept.

-----

In borrowed clothes to disguise himself, Seonghwa ducked and weaved through the crowded street. He doubled back the way he'd come and took a block around in a circle until he came out on the main street. He meant to send his mother another letter, and he meant to do it in secret. She should know that Hongjoong intended to return him. And even if Seonghwa couldn’t receive a reply on the open ocean, he could take comfort in the fact that she would have time to consider his options and give him a plan when they arrived.

He hadn't seen Yunho or Mingi for a good long while, but he trusted that they would be more difficult to lose than the palace guards he evaded on trips to the city.

The parrot flew overhead and Seonghwa ducked down and kept walking. He took another detour that brought him closer to the marina. Closer to the stench of stale water, fish, and salt.

He paused under the canopy of a vegetable stand and pretended to look at bruised potatoes.

"Your Highness," a deep voice Seonghwa didn't recognize greeted him softly.

Seonghwa exhaled sharply through his teeth and turned toward the voice. "Keep your voice low."

The speaker had unruly blood hair chopped short over his eyes and twisted in frayed braids over the back of his neck. Freckles dusted his nose and a wild look in his eye unsettled Seonghwa. "You've escaped your pirates."

"The word 'escape' implies that I was a hostage," Seonghwa looked both ways for Yunho and Mingi, pulled his hood over his head, and walked briskly toward the post office.

The freckled sailor followed at a trot. "So you're trying to get back to your castle, right?" He guessed. "I can help. I have a boat."

Seonghwa laughed mirthlessly. He wanted the opposite. To return home would be a defeat, and a prince did not show defeat. He stopped again to pretend to look at apples in a cart.

“My Captain will welcome you. You’ll be much more comfortable than on that awful black ship.” The freckled sailor told him, then stuck out his hand. “I’m Felix. I’ve known Chan forever. He’s an honest man.”

Seonghwa glanced at the hand, but didn’t set down his apples. Chan. A strange foreboding crept up the back of Seonghwa’s neck. “I will not trade one pirate for another.” He set the apples down and moved on to the next stand, head low. “And again, you’re assuming I want to leave.”

Felix grinned. “Oh, we’re not pirates, your Highness.” He spoke low and conspiratorial. “And of course you want to leave. Why would you run away if you didn’t want to leave?”

Seonghwa frowned. “Hongjoong does not hold me against my will. I chose to sail with him.”

“You didn’t choose to marry him,” Felix pointed out with an aggravatingly bright smile. “He came in and made his demands. Your father sold you off like a stud bull. You didn’t have a choice.”

“But I do have common sense.” Seonghwa turned down a narrow alley and came out on the other side of the crowded market. He stopped and looked both ways before he steeled himself and whistled the notes that would call the damned bird.

“Common sense says leave the pirates behind.” Felix placed a confident hand on his shoulder and the realization that no one had touched him since he set foot on that boat except for Hongjoong hit him like a sack of bricks. The woman in the tavern the first night, but Hongjoong had been there and the moment Seonghwa voiced discomfort, he sent her away. This strange hand on his arm felt wrong. And Hongjoong wouldn’t like it.

“Common sense says not to trust strangers.” Seonghwa pulled his arm away.

Felix laughed. “We won’t be strangers by the time we get you back home. Come on. We’ll have some stew. The Levanter’s much more comfortable than the Horizon anyway.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not comfortable on my husband’s ship.” This felt like a trap. Felix wouldn’t be so insistent if he really meant well.

A loud squawk interrupted whatever Felix intended to say. Seonghwa held out his arm and did not flinch when the bird landed clumsily, claws scratching at Seonghwa’s silk sleeve. “Prince,” it accused.

Seonghwa forced himself to stroke its belly with two fingers the way Mingi and Yunho did. Power was more important than fear. If Seonghwa showed weakness, Felix might stop trying to convince him and start dragging him by force. “To the Captain. Bring him here.” He didn’t know if Fix could understand the order, but he hoped with all his heart as he lifted his arm and the parrot flew away. He turned his attention back to Felix, who didn’t look at all worried. “I don’t know your Captain. I won’t board your ship.”

Felix tilted his head and put a friendly hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Think about it. You’re lost-”

“I am not lost. If I wanted to go home I could get there just as fast by carriage,” Seonghwa interrupted.

“You’re alone, your husband is a criminal and doesn’t care about you,” Felix continued as if he didn’t notice.

Seonghwa’s teeth clacked together. “You are a fool if you think he doesn’t care.” White-hot rage pumped through Seonghwa’s blood. “He swore to slaughter anyone who laid a hand on me.” He picked up Felix’s hand and moved it to the side of his face. “And here you are, being so familiar. I wonder how much you know about the Pirate King.”

“Enough to know I could treat you so much better.” His voice dropped to a honey-sweet tone that reverberated through Seonghwa’s chest like a harbinger of violence.

Hongjoong’s words still rang in his ears. Do you really want to know? “How so?” he asked, playing along for the moment. “What would you do to me?”

“Oh, baby,” Felix stroked his cheek with the pad of his thumb and it turned Seonghwa’s stomach. “I’d fill you up so good. Wouldn’t you just be a vision all helpless and desperate?”

Seonghwa didn’t come out unarmed, but he couldn’t reach the knife in his boot. His fingers twitched for it though. A seed of fear and danger settled in his gut. “What if I didn’t want that?”

Felix laughed. “Oh, but you do.” He leaned close enough that Seonghwa could smell stale coffee on his breath. “Between the two of us, I have the best cock on the ocean.”

Seonghwa glanced down with a straight face. “I doubt that.”

Another guileless grin. “Bet you got a pretty little hole, don’t you? Bet you cry when you’re fucked out, don’t you princeling?”

Seonghwa regretted working so hard to lose Yunho and Mingi. He began to understand Hongjoong. Eliminating threats. Stopping violence before it happened.

“Bet you cry so pretty.” Felix stroked his cheek again and his other hand found Seonghwa’s elbow. “Would you cry on my cock, baby?”

Seonghwa tensed. He wanted to run. He wanted to run all the way to Hongjoong's arms. And that instinct answered a question he'd been asking himself since their wedding. “I promised my husband not to shed a tear for anyone but him.”

Felix laughed. “Can he even fuck you right? You probably only cry because he’s so small.”

A laugh tore unbidden from Seonghwa’s throat. “I don’t know who you think I married.” The memory of the weight of Hongjoong’s dick on his tongue made him laugh again. “The Pirate King is not small.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I'd be happy to show you a real cock, baby.”

A flash of green in Seonghwa’s peripherals. Fix. Hope. “I suggest you unhand me unless you want to lose yours.” Seonghwa smiled beguilingly. “Do you have any idea how possessive he is?”

Felix stepped forward to press their chests together. “Did he hurt you?” Contrived sympathy.

The unmistakable sound of Hongjoong’s high-heeled boots on the cobblestones put a wide smirk on Seonghwa’s face. “No. Never.” The footsteps paused, near enough to see clearly how Felix touched Seonghwa. “But he’ll hurt you.” He grabbed Felix’s arm, threw him to the ground at Hongjoong’s feet, and set his foot at the back of Felix’s neck to keep him down.

Hongjoong looked darkly at Seonghwa, a pistol in his hand trained on Felix. “You sent Fix-”

“This man tried to lure me away from you.” Seonghwa dropped his hood and lifted his chin. “I suspect he works closely with Bang Chan.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “What do you know about Bang Chan?”

Seonghwa pressed Felix’s head down with the toe of his new boot. “Send him back with a message, Captain.” Seonghwa’s voice did not waver. “Let them know exactly who they’re dealing with.”

The implications of that hung in the air around them like the ringing after the toll of a bell. A slow smile of wonderment spread across Hongjoong’s face. Seonghwa made himself clear. He didn’t want to return to the palace. He didn’t condemn Hongjoong for his methods. And he trusted him more than any of the alternatives.

The prince who married a pirate. The prince who would not be frightened away by violence, scum, and villainy.

Chapter Text

A harsh wind ripped noisily through the sails and the salt air tasted electric under the rolling dark clouds. No rain yet, but distant thunder promised a storm.

Seonghwa shook himself out and set his sword down to take a drink of weak grog. He still hated the taste.

“You’re a quick learner.” Yunho picked up Seonghwa’s sword and walked past him toward the helm. “You barely need a teacher.”

A low, rolling thunderclap drew Seonghwa’s attention to the dark sky. “Thank you, but I’d do better if you could give me a list of rules.”

Yunho exhaled sharply. “The only rule is kill your opponent before they kill you.”

San dropped from the rigging between them. “Storm’s only a couple leagues off, sir,” he told Yunho. “We’ll stay ahead of it unless the Captain forgot to appease his sea demons.”

Yunho laughed. “If he had, we’d already be dashed to bits.”

“Sea demons?” Seonghwa wondered. He didn’t know what that could mean.

San hummed patronizingly. “The Captain sold his soul to the sea for power over the winds and waves.”

Seonghwa watched his face for a tell. A glance at Yunho revealed nothing. “You’re lying to me.” Seonghwa shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

San grinned wide and tilted his head. “Suit yourself.”

Yunho handed Seonghwa both swords. “Put these away, then head below deck. Best place to wait out a storm like this. Doesn’t throw you around so much.”

Seonghwa accepted the swords and looked out at the large waves that rocked the ship. “Will the Captain come below?”

San’s grin looked sharp and teasing. “Not until the storm passes. We need him up here more than you need him down there.” A pointed glance down to Seonghwa's crotch made him clutch the swords tighter.

“Of course.” He turned on his heel to stow the swords in the covered navigation room.

Hongjoong stood at the helm looking out at the storm. “Don’t stay up here, beautiful,” he warned, a brightness in his eyes that seemed to dare the storm to do its worst. A crack of thunder sounded loud above their heads and Hongjoong smiled gleefully. “You’ll want to wait this out below deck, my precious.”

Seonghwa nodded, a bit unnerved. “Captain?” He set the swords in their place. “Did you sell your soul to the sea?”

A loud laugh rang above the next clap of thunder. “Who told you that?”

“San.” Seonghwa heard rain on the roof. The storm moved quickly. The air crackled with anticipation.

Hongjoong laughed again. “Oh darling, you know better.” He pulled Seonghwa’s face to his. “You’re not foolish enough to believe anything San tells you.” His mouth captured Seonghwa’s with the intensity of a flash of lightning that lit up the sky. A searing kiss that stole Seonghwa’s balance more than the rocking ship. Another breathless laugh. “Go below, sweetheart. I’ll fetch you when it’s over.”

Seonghwa stumbled out into the rain when Hongjoong pushed him and fought to keep his footing as he made his way to a narrow staircase.

Flickering lamps cast wide shadows on the curved walls of the ship’s underbelly. The smell of gunpowder tickled Seonghwa’s nose so he felt like he should sneeze. After a moment of standing in the middle of the hold looking lost, Yeosang and Wooyoung laughed their way in to join him.

Yeosang waved a pack of cards in the air. “Do you play, princeling?”

Seonghwa didn’t, but he didn’t have anything better to do, and he appreciated the offer to include him. They sat on the floor between crates and barrels. Yeosang dealt the cards, two each. “The highest card wins,” he explained the rules.

“Lowest card removes an item of clothing,” Wooyoung added with a sly giggle. “You can fold, but that’s no fun.”

Seonghwa looked at his cards. A ten and a three. Not great. Yeosang’s face gave up nothing about his cards. Wooyoung’s small smirk didn’t give Seonghwa much confidence. “I fold.” He set his cards down.

Wooyoung clicked his tongue. “Coward.” He and Yeosang flipped their cards. Wooyoung lost with a jack to Yeosang’s queen. He rolled his eyes, but shrugged off his jacket and laid it across a crate behind him. “My deal. You always count cards.”

Yeosang smirked, but handed Wooyoung the deck. Seonghwa got a queen and a four. He felt pretty okay about that. Neither Wooyoung or Yeosang folded, so they all showed their cards.

“No fair,” Wooyoung complained, unlacing his boots. “I swear, he’s got all these aces up his sleeves,” he told Seonghwa, pointing to Yeosang’s ace.

Yeosang pushed up his sleeves defiantly. “You’re just a sore loser.”

Wooyoung dealt again. “Only when it’s rigged. I thought our prince would lose so I could see what the Captain’s hiding away.” He pouted at his cards but didn’t fold.

“So you can be jealous, you mean?” Yeosang teased.

Seonghwa smiled to himself and kept his ten this time. Yeosang laid an eight and a nine of the same suit, which outranked Seonghwa’s ten and Wooyoung’s queen. Wooyoung smacked the ground, triumphant. “Take off your vest.”

Practicing swordplay always made Seonghwa hot, so he hadn’t worn a jacket. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and folded it carefully on a crate. “I’ll deal.” He took the cards, shuffled, and dealt them. “Why are you jealous, Wooyoung?” he asked and did his best not to look elated at the ace in his hand.

Yeosang folded and Wooyoung buzzed his lips. “I’m not jealous.” He huffed a sharp breath when Seonghwa showed his ace. “Figures.” He pulled his shirt over his head and Seonghwa admired the tattoos covering his arms and most of his chest and torso. He snatched the cards and shuffled them aggressively. “It’s you who should be jealous.”

“Why is that?” Seonghwa wondered. His four and five of the same suit had a chance.

Yeosang laughed softly when Seonghwa won again and Wooyoung had to wriggle out of his trousers. “He thinks he was Hongjoong’s favorite before you came along.”

“I was,” Wooyoung protested, crossing his bare legs, apparently not shy in only worn canvas undergarments. “He told me.”

“No, he liked Mingi best, but Yunho was always his favorite.” Yeosang showed two kings, beating Wooyoung’s seven and eight of the same suit, and Seonghwa’s jack.

Seonghwa pressed his lips together and pulled his shirt over his head. Wooyoung whistled while he folded it and set it on top of his waistcoat. “Wouldn’t have expected you to be so fit.” Wooyoung waved a hand at Seonghwa’s chest, then frowned comically at Yeosang. “Yunho’s not his favorite. He never slept with Yunho.”

Yeosang scoffed. “Of course he did. Just not in the loud, theatric way you do.”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes. “But Captain did say I was his favorite.”

“When?” Yeosang didn’t sound convinced. “When you stopped being a brat and started begging him to cum inside?”

Seonghwa blinked rapidly. He didn’t realize what they were talking about. He still couldn’t be sure. Maybe he misunderstood. “What-” he started to ask.

“Does it matter?” Wooyoung demanded. “He said it. He said, ‘Fuck, Wooyoung, you’re my favorite, baby, always so fucking tight.” He mimicked Hongjoong's low, affected growl with uncanny accuracy.

Seonghwa choked on a breath and the others seemed to remember his presence. “You… You sleep with my- with Hongjoong?” It took a great effort to say. Seonghwa’s head felt tight. He wondered if he was dehydrated.

Wooyoung dealt the cards with a huff. “Used to. We all did. Before.” He looked up at Seonghwa accusingly. “Now he won’t even touch me.”

Of course Hongjoong would have slept with his crew. Long months at sea with no other company had to grow lonesome. Of course he would prefer someone like Wooyoung with his taught muscles and soft curves and the trails of ink over his golden skin. Of course he wouldn’t tell Seonghwa that, because Seonghwa should have known.

But he could take small comfort in the fact that Hongjoong hadn’t gone back on his word. Respect, honor, and fidelity. He checked all the boxes. Then again, how much must he resent Seonghwa? If he had an entire crew to fuck whenever he pleased, and now Seonghwa kept refusing him?

Seonghwa should have folded. He shook his head when his cards were lowest. “I don’t want to take off my trousers.”

“Then tell us what it’s like,” Wooyoung prompted. “For the Captain to make love to you.”

Seonghwa blinked, brain still caught up on unbidden images of his husband lying naked next to Wooyoung, stroking his cheek gently and saying how unhappy he was in his marriage. How Seonghwa just wasn’t enough. “What?”

Wooyoung pushed the cards aside to lean closer to Seonghwa. “He’s gentle with you, isn’t he? Says he likes to spoil you.” He dropped his head into his hands expectantly. “What’s that like?”

Seonghwa looked at Yeosang for assistance, but Yeosang just raised his eyebrows, apparently also curious.

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa tried to laugh it off. “He touches me. He teases.” He shrugged. “I’m sure it’s just the same.”

Wooyoung laughed, high and loud in the large room. “No. Not the same.” He reached back to scratch his neck, a dreamy sort of smile on his face. “There’s a difference between a little lovey-dovey tease and edging past the point of pain when you can’t even remember which way is up.”

Yeosang chuckled. “I’m sure you deserved it.”

“I did, but that’s not the point.” Wooyoung tapped his finger on the floor. “Is he really… gentle?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Seonghwa said, feeling a little dizzy. Wooyoung thought Hongjoong was cruel. Wooyoung had known Hongjoong far longer than Seonghwa. Which meant he had to be right. When would Hongjoong snap? When would his patience run out? When would he turn cold and cruel and take what he wanted from Seonghwa in the way he took what he wanted from the world?

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “How does he fuck you?”

And Seonghwa couldn’t answer that question. He shook his head. “He’s very kind to me,” he said. “He wouldn’t hurt me,” he tried to convince himself.

Wooyoung sat back with an exasperated look at Yeosang. “You think if I had a tiny waist and glittery eyes he'd be kind to me?"

Yeosang snorted. "No. You're a brat. Maybe he'd be kind if you were good for him."

Wooyoung spluttered. "Was he kind to you?"

"Not particularly," Yeosang wore a nostalgic smile. "But he didn't give me any scars."

Wooyoung scowled and rubbed at a place on the back of his shoulder. “Just means he liked me better.”

Seonghwa's vision swam and he swallowed around his dry throat. Hongjoong would hurt him. Hongjoong would run out of patience and pull his hair too hard, bite too sharp, scratch his fingernails over Seonghwa's skin to draw blood. He would pin him down with that impatient glint in his eye and tell Seonghwa how pretty he looked when he cried. Make him cry. Make it hurt.

Only a matter of time now. He should ask Hongjoong to take him home after all. He wanted to run. Run and run and never stop running.

"Because he's possessive like that," Wooyoung was saying. "Always leaves a claim." He waved a hand at Seonghwa. "I'm honestly surprised you don't have more." He reached out to touch a faded mark on Seonghwas's neck. "Unless there are more… other places." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with a glance at Seonghwa's lap.

"Wooyoung," Yeosang warned, wide-eyed, reaching out to bat his hand away.

"A dozen lashes, Wooyoung." Hongjoong's voice somewhere behind Seonghwa sounded eerily calm. It froze Seonghwa and stole his breath.

Wooyoung dropped his hand and scrambled away with apologies falling from his lips like the rain above deck.

Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa to his feet with a hand tight around his wrist. "Go get Yunho,” he ordered Yeosang. “The storm's died down."

Wooyoung pleaded some more, but Seonghwa barely registered anything but Hongjoong's iron grip on his wrist or his hand on the bare skin of Seonghwa's back.

He pulled Seonghwa closer to speak against his ear. "I saw enough to know you didn't provoke him." A slight growl to his voice sent Seonghwa's heart racing. "But should you seduce any of them, you will answer for it."

Seonghwa trembled. "Please, Captain." His voice cracked.

Hongjoong stood back, suddenly gentle, hands light on Seonghwa's chest. "Are you hurt?" He asked. "Darling, did he hurt you?"

"No," Seonghwa breathed. "No, but I am frightened."

Hongjoong pulled him into what should have been a comforting embrace. "You have nothing to fear, my love." A soft kiss to Seonghwa's cheek. "If discipline on a ship fails, the ship goes down. I've made it clear no one is to touch you. If I don't enforce that rule, I lose credibility and respect." He held Seonghwa's face tenderly to look him in the eyes. "You understand that, precious, I know you do." He offered a kind smile. "It's nothing Wooyoung can't handle. He's had worse lashings." A thumb rubbed over Seonghwa’s cheek. “Yunho’s never too hard on him.”

Seonghwa nodded vacantly, fighting the urge to bury himself in his husband's arms and never let go. Because Wooyoung knew better than he would and Wooyoung said Hongjoong was always cruel.

Above deck, the rain had subsided to a cold drizzle. Seonghwa shivered without a shirt, but Hongjoong's hand on his back burned against his skin.

Yunho smoothed over Wooyoung's arm to position it so he could tie his hands to the rigging. The sailor's knots looked too tight and pulled Wooyoung's arms above his head uncomfortably. The cat-o'-nine-tails whip unfurled wickedly at Yunho's feet and Seonghwa gasped a tight breath in an effort to fill his lungs.

The rest of the crew gathered with solemn faces to watch, sneaking furtive glances at Seonghwa. As if to blame him. Seonghwa shivered in the rain.

"A dozen?" Yunho asked, unaffected.

"I didn't touch him like that," Wooyoung protested, gripping at the ropes around his wrists, fighting them. "It wasn't anything."

"Thirteen," Hongjoong corrected. “I suggest you stop arguing.” His tone bit sharper than the knife at Yunho’s belt or the whip swaying in his hand.

Wooyoung sagged, defeated, rain running in streams down the ink covering his back. Yunho smoothed the whip through his hands and stepped up. "Count for me, Woo," he instructed, low voice emotionless. “Be good now, we all know you can take it.”

The whip cracked, loud in the quiet of the rain. Seonghwa flinched, unsure whether he wanted Hongjoong to hold him or let him go.

"One," Wooyoung said through clenched teeth.

Water flew from the tiny knots at the ends of the whip when it snapped again.

"Two." Wooyoung took a few deep breaths and rolled his shoulders against the sting.

Seonghwa turned his face away and shut his eyes on the third lash. Hongjoong turned his chin gently with two fingers. "I can't force you to watch, my dear, but I ask you to." He tapped a finger on Seonghwa's full bottom lip. "It would do you good to understand the consequences of your actions. You are not above the rules either, my prince."

Seonghwa's teeth chattered with a combination of cold and fear, but he watched Wooyoung's back arch against the sting of the whip as he choked out a weak "four."

Five and six made Seonghwa bite his lip and he flinched at each harsh crack. On the seventh lash, blood flew pink with the rainwater and Seonghwa gasped. He wrapped his arms around himself and held on so tight he could feel his fingernails digging crescents into his skin. He shut his eyes again when Wooyoung cried out before he shuddered a pained, “Eight.”

But Seonghwa forced his eyes open, breathing ragged and shallow as cold rain plastered his hair to his face and soaked through his skin. He turned to watch Yunho instead of Wooyoung.

Yunho snapped the whip with a fluid grace not unlike a dancer waving a ribbon. A dark satisfaction on his face made the clouds seem a little closer and the water running trails down Seonghwa’s back seem a little colder. He licked his lips when Wooyoung started crying, specks of blood on his face and arms running with the rain. He looked satisfied. Content. A deep shudder shook Seonghwa’s shoulders. Yunho liked it.

“Twelve,” Wooyoung sobbed, sagging against the ropes.

The whip snapped a final time, throwing water and blood in the air. Seonghwa fled before Wooyoung could say “thirteen.”

He closed himself in the cabin and locked it, leaning against the door and trying to catch his breath. He wasn’t safe. He couldn’t stay here. His husband would hurt him. Bang Chan’s pirates would kill him. He was always dehydrated and never safe.

A blanket draped over the desk chair smelled like Hongjoong, but Seonghwa wrapped it around his shoulders anyway. When he stopped shivering, he shifted through Hongjoong’s cluttered desk to find a blank parchment. Maybe Fix could carry a letter.

His name scribbled across one of the papers in Hongjoong’s tight handwriting made him pause. He pulled the paper out and sank into the desk chair. He shouldn’t invade Hongjoong’s privacy like this, but it might shed some light on the Captain’s intentions with him.

Their plan to take Seonghwa is rudimentary and easily foiled. However, I fear it’s a distraction for a larger plot.

Seonghwa scanned the other notes from Hongjoong’s interrogations. There seemed to be something bigger afoot. Ties to a navy. Traps set for the Horizon. Affiliation with other pirate crews.

But the last paragraph in the Captain’s log caught his attention for a different reason.

The prince still sees a monster when he looks at me. I’d hoped he would trust me by now, or that I would have proven myself. He says he can’t trust me. That I’m cruel by nature. I don’t know how to convince him otherwise. I haven’t pushed him, I’ve denied him nothing he’s asked for, and I’ve tried to shield him from the violence of this lifestyle. I think he knows I care about his safety, but he probably assumes it’s selfish interest. I can’t blame him, but it hurts when he looks at me with fear behind his eyes.

A knock on the door made Seonghwa drop the paper. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled the blanket closer around his shoulders and stood up.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong’s voice sounded a bit strained. “Are you alright? Can I come in?”

“Yes.” Seonghwa didn’t dare refuse him. He didn’t know what to think about what he read. It sounded detached. He couldn’t be sure of the motivations behind it.

Hongjoong tried the locked door, and Seonghwa took a few steps forward to unlock it before it swung open and Hongjoong tucked a ring of keys back onto his belt. “My darling,” he said, taking in the sight of Seonghwa soaked to the skin and wrapped in a blanket with what must have been a terrible expression on his face somewhere between fear, disgust, and a forced polite smile.

He closed the door behind him and lifted a hand to touch Seonghwa’s face, but dropped it when Seonghwa flinched.

“We’re out of the path of the storm and back on course. Mingi’s taking care of the navigation and Yunho will deal with my other responsibilities when he's finished settling Wooyoung.” He spoke softly, as if an effort not to startle a wild animal. “If you’d like to talk, or if you want comfort, I’m yours.”

Seonghwa did want to talk. He wanted reassurance that his fears were unfounded and Hongjoong wouldn’t hurt him and the safest place to be remained at Hongjoong’s side. But he didn’t think he had the words.

He nodded anyway and followed when Hongjoong sat in the chair. “Sit with me?” Hongjoong asked, patting his leg.

Seonghwa bit his lip. Touching his husband would confuse him, distract him, and make it even more difficult to be articulate.

“That’s alright, dearest,” Hongjoong assured him when he hesitated, and indicated a stool in the corner of the room. “Sit as close as you like.”

Seonghwa pulled the stool up a few steps away from Hongjoong and sat down, adjusting his blanket. The warm smell of sea salt and damp wool and Hongjoong’s sweat shouldn’t have been comforting. “I’m sorry,” he began.

Hongjoong’s brow wrinkled. “What for?”

Seonghwa blinked. “For… Wooyoung?” He didn’t actually know why he apologized, only that it seemed like the right thing to do.

Hongjoong shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault. He made a choice.” He tilted his head. “I only heard part of the conversation, but you seemed upset before he touched you.” He left it open-ended. Seonghwa could elaborate if he chose to. If not, it didn’t seem like Hongjoong would push.

Seonghwa opened his mouth and waited for words to come out. “We were talking about you,” he finally admitted. He had to look away. The wax around the candlesticks had accumulated so much it obscured nearly all the silver. Seonghwa wanted to clean them. To escape this confrontation. “Wooyoung said you used to… fuck all the members of your crew.”

Hongjoong exhaled a slow breath. “Oh, my sweet prince.”

“He said you were mean. He said you hurt him.” Seonghwa forced the words out.

"You're listening to Wooyoung now?" Just a touch of irritation, but also the edge of a smile.

Seonghwa felt a bit patronized and he hated that. He leveled a piercing look at Hongjoong. "He said you edged him so he couldn't tell up from down," he accused.

Hongjoong raised his eyebrows. "And?"

Seonghwa blinked. "Did you?" He tugged the blanket tighter and sat up straighter, defensive. "Did you hurt him?"

Hongjoong's tongue slid between his teeth. "You're asking the wrong question."

"What's the right question?" Seonghwa raised his voice, speaking through his teeth, agitated.

"Tell me, dear," he soothed. "When Wooyoung described how bad I hurt him, what expression did he have on his face?"

"He was smiling," Seonghwa realized, still clenching his jaw.

Hongjoong sat back in his chair. "The right question is did he like it?" A smirk. "And the answer is yes. He liked it very much."

Buoyant irritation rose in Seonghwa’s throat. "I don't like it," he whispered.

Hongjoong's brow crinkled and his smirk slipped. "Of course not, love." He sat forward and looked like he wanted to touch Seonghwa, but he didn't. "That's not what we're discussing." His face contorted into a pained grimace. "You're frightened of me now."

"Yes. I am," Seonghwa agreed, defensive. "Why would I not be when you leave your lovers scarred?"

Hongjoong's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Have I treated you in a way that makes you believe I would hurt you?" He sounded just a little too vulnerable. Seonghwa hated it.

"What makes me different from Wooyoung?" Seonghwa stood up sharply. "If you can hurt him so carelessly, why would you treat me any different?"

Hongjoong's expression turned dangerous. "You are my husband." That hung in the air like thick smoke. "You are a prince, Wooyoung is a pirate. You like a gentle tease, Wooyoung is a masochist." He shook his head tightly. "Why in hell would I treat you the same?"

Seonghwa raised a hand to push his damp hair out of his face. All this constant doubt exhausted him. He just wanted to trust his husband. He just wanted so badly to be married to a good man. A kind man. Someone safe and warm and welcome. He didn’t want to worry about the blood on his husband’s hands. He didn’t want to think about the ways his husband had been intimate with others. He hated the unending double-mindedness that swung like a clock’s pendulum between love and fear.

"Seonghwa, my darling," Hongjoong spoke softly. "I want to hold you and reassure you." He smoothed his hands over his thighs. "Will you come here, my love?"

Seonghwa did want to fall into Hongjoong's arms. That would be easier. To let him kiss away all the doubts and mistrust that only seemed to surface when he left Hongjoong’s side. He stepped forward, but hesitated before he sat on Hongjoong's lap. "Why do you call me 'love?"

Hongjoong sat up straight. "I thought you liked it when I called you darling and dearest-"

"I do,” Seonghwa said quickly. “But you've just started this 'love'. What does it mean?"

A momentary silence where Hongjoong searched his face as if for a clue to the correct answer. "You are very dear to me," he said carefully. "I am very fond of you."

That answer would suffice, though Seonghwa didn’t allow himself to fully believe it. He sat lightly on Hongjoong’s thigh with his arms looped around his neck. "Show me?"

"Show you how fond I am?" The tick of a smile on Hongjoong’s bowed lips.

"Yes, Captain." Seonghwa leaned in slightly, then stopped himself. "If you would humor me," he added.

Hongjoong hummed and pushed a lock of damp hair away from Seonghwa’s forehead. "I suppose you still don't want me to fuck you."

"No. Please." Seonghwa caught his hand and trapped it to the side of his face. He longed for tenderness. Just simple comfort.

Hongjoong cupped the other side of his face. "Alright." He placed a kiss in the middle of Seonghwa’s forehead. “Can you tell me exactly what you do want?”

Seonghwa tilted his chin to catch Hongjoong’s lips and kiss him softly. Hongjoong indulged him for a moment, then pushed him away with a solid hand to his chest.

“You must learn to voice your desires, precious.” He smiled fondly. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t know what you want.”

A sudden sinking feeling made Seonghwa cling to Hongjoong’s damp shirt. “What if I never want you to fuck me?” he blurted.

Hongjoong’s arms around him felt sure and stable and warm, even as he laughed. “I don’t think that will be the case, but if it is, so be it.” He petted Seonghwa’s hair back. “There are other ways.”

“What if I want to top?” Seonghwa asked, pushing his luck.

Hongjoong raised his eyebrows with a delighted giggle. “Do you?”

Seonghwa faltered. “I don’t know.” He hadn’t given it much thought. He hadn’t really considered it a possibility.

Hongjoong kissed him. “We’ll discuss that when you know.”

A much better reaction than Seonghwa expected. He relaxed against Hongjoong’s chest and nestled his head in the curve of his neck. “I want you to hold me,” he said. “And tell me all the ways you’re fond of me.”

A laugh low in Hongjoong’s chest reverberated through Seonghwa’s body. “If you wanted poetry you shouldn’t have married a pirate.” But he wrapped his arm around Seonghwa and petted his hair. “I am fond of the way you pout when you’re focused on something.” He tugged the blanket wrapped around Seonghwa’s shoulders to cover more of his neck and keep him warm. “I’m fond of the way you lift your chin when you’re offended. And I’m fond of the way you duck your head when you’re flattered.”

“That’s a silly thing to be fond of.” Seonghwa nestled closer, feeling lighter and warmer.

“All the same,” Hongjoong sighed. “I’m fond of the sound of your footsteps on the deck.” He squeezed Seonghwa’s shoulders. “And your rare smile.”

Seonghwa smiled against Hongjoong’s neck in spite of himself. Even if he was lying, they were pretty lies, and exactly what Seonghwa wanted to hear.

Kindness.

“Will you promise me something?” he asked.

“Of course, my sweet prince.” Hongjoong pushed him back so he could look at him. “Anything.”

Seonghwa searched his face for any sign of maliciousness or deceit and found none. “Promise you’ll always be kind to me. Like this.”

A small, astonished giggle. “Seonghwa, I swear on the sea I will always be kind to you.”

Tension Seonghwa didn’t realize he’d been holding bled from his shoulders. “Thank you, Captain.”

Kindness would be enough, Seonghwa thought. As long as Hongjoong could be kind to him, he could be content.

“Captain,” San’s voice cut through the shadows of Seonghwa’s half-dreams, lulled by the sway of the ship and the steadiness of Hongjoong's arms.

Hongjoong shifted and Seonghwa clung tighter with a dissatisfied noise, nuzzling further into his warmth.

“There’s a ship,” San continued. “To the west.”

“What colors?” Hongjoong’s voice reverberated through his chest.

“Red.” San paused. “I’m itching for a fight, Captain. I know Jongho is too. And Yunho's always restless after a flogging.”

Hongjoong rubbed Seonghwa’s shoulder comfortingly. “Fly the blue flag. Show our allegiance to my father-in-law.” Amusement leaked into his voice. “Tell Jongho to clean the cannons and tell Mingi to make use of his spyglass. I want to know what we’re up against.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“San,” Hongjoong stopped him from leaving. “If it’s a navy ship, we’ll use the cannons, leave it burning.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Seonghwa’s head. “If it’s a merchant ship, we’ll board it and take everything of value.”

“It appears to be a merchant ship, Captain.”

“Good.” Seonghwa could hear his smile. “My prince looks very pretty in silk and pearls. It’s such a shame he doesn’t have nearly enough.”

Chapter Text

A sudden gasp of air filled Seonghwa's lungs and woke him. As if he'd forgotten to breathe while he slept. The warm darkness of the room and the rustle of the blankets next to him meant it must be early morning. Pre-dawn.

He shifted to pout at Hongjoong so he would kiss him before he got up, but he’d fallen asleep on his stomach and the movement pulled a soft moan from his throat. It happened sometimes. That he would wake up hard and needy. It would go away if he ignored it.

Still sleepy, he rolled his hips against the mattress and sighed heavily at the pleasant friction.

Hongjoong leaned over him to kiss his cheek. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Seonghwa sluggishly caught him and held him by the collar before he could leave the bed. Hadn’t Hongjoong told him if he felt neglected it was only because he didn't ask…

He pressed his mouth clumsily to Hongjoong’s, then gave up on proper kisses and trailed down his neck, shifting to sit up a little and wrap his hand around the back of Hongjoong’s head to hold him in place.

Why not? He could kiss his husband in the early morning if he wanted to, couldn’t he?

Sleep made him uncoordinated, but Hongjoong shuddered through a giggle. “What’s all this?” He tilted his head with a long breath to give Seonghwa better access. “Did you dream about me?”

Seonghwa didn’t remember what he dreamed - still felt halfway dreamy - but he wanted Hongjoong to touch him. “Kiss me,” he pouted.

Warm fingers stroked through his hair and wind-chapped lips covered his. Sweet. Teasing.

Seonghwa whined when he sat back too soon. “No,” he protested. “Kiss me.”

Hongjoong giggled again. “I have to get up, love.”

The shift of the blanket over Seonghwa’s erection made him sigh. “Don’t leave me.”

Another short kiss to his mouth. “We’re preparing for a fight, darling. My crew needs me.”

“I need you.” Seonghwa grabbed his hand and pulled it down his stomach between his legs. He made a small noise of relief and ground his hips against the solid pressure of Hongjoong’s hand. "I need you more."

Hongjoong’s head sank against Seonghwa’s shoulder with an unsteady breath. “Seonghwa…” He wrapped his hand around the outline of Seonghwa’s dick and stroked slowly. “They’ll wonder where I am.”

A sudden wave of selfishness made Seonghwa wrap his arms around his husband and sigh against his ear, “Then tell them.” He ran a hand down Hongjoong’s back to cup the comfortable curve of his ass. “Tell them you were spoiling your prince.”

“Spoiling you?” Hongjoong squeezed his dick and sucked a light mark into the curve of his shoulder. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Seonghwa pulled Hongjoong’s hand inside his sleep pants and made a low noise at the heat of the skin-to-skin contact. “Please, Captain.” He shuddered when Hongjoong thumbed around his sensitive tip. “Spoil me?”

Hongjoong cursed under his breath. “We don’t have time for that, precious.” His dry, calloused hand chafed a little around the delicate skin of Seonghwa’s dick, but the slight discomfort only made Seonghwa feel hotter. “Not like I want to.”

“I’m asking,” Seonghwa whined. He pulled off his nightshirt and kicked off his pants so he could straddle Hongjoong’s thighs. “I just want you to touch me.” Hongjoong’s skin tasted like the salt air and the bitter residue of gunpowder. “Please, Captain,” he spoke against his collarbone. “Please touch me.”

Hongjoong rolled him over onto his back and reached past him to the table beside the bed. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” he accused, rummaging through a shallow drawer. “You’re trying to drive me out of my fucking mind.”

Still sleepy and slow, Seonghwa shaped his hands over Hongjoong’s waist, his hips, his ass. “You have a really nice ass,” he thought aloud, and giggled when Hongjoong dropped something and cursed colorfully. “I think maybe I would like to fuck you someday. If that would really be okay with you.”

A harsh hand covered Seonghwa’s mouth and Hongjoong looked down at him, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with every breath. “Not today, ‘Hwa. You can’t just spring this on me all at once,” he pleaded. “You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere. We don’t have time…” He trailed off as Seonghwa maneuvered the hand over his mouth to wrap his lips around the tips of Hongjoong’s fingers. “Fuck.”

In a moment of clarity, Seonghwa realized he'd never instigated intimacy between them. He'd never asked for anything unless it was already happening. Hongjoong looked a little distant, eyes unfocused, face full of unguarded longing. Power simmered under Seonghwa's skin despite the hand wrapped around his throat, pinning him to the bed with a light pressure. “Are you going to touch me?” he asked innocently. "Or would you rather wait until after your fight and come back to me hot…" he pulled Hongjoong down by the collar so their lips just barely touched. "And desperate?"

A slow, restrained kiss. “Who are you?” Hongjoong breathed, bottomless eyes boring into Seonghwa’s soul. “And what have you done with the the shy, innocent man I married?”

In the space of a blink, Seonghwa woke up. Came to his senses. The dreamy glow of the oil lamp crispened into flickering shadows. “I’m sorry, Captain.” He released Hongjoong’s shirt and turned his burning face to the side. “I didn’t mean to assume- I don’t know what came over me.”

Hongjoong’s hand wrapped around him again and he keened high in his throat, back arching a little off the bed. A low, breathy laugh. “Seonghwa, if you ever apologize to me again for being confident and sexy as fuck, I will make sure the parrot doesn't leave your shoulder the whole day.”

Seonghwa whimpered at the harsh tug of Hongjoong’s calloused hand. “Please, Captain.” Intense, unrelenting need made him tremble. “I need- I want--” A sharp shudder interrupted him when Hongjoong rubbed an intentional finger over his stiffened nipple.

“What do you want, precious?” Hongjoong grinned, varying the pace of his hand. A slow, drawn-out stroke followed by three quick ones. Two agonzingly slow followed by four overwhelmingly fast. “Tell me what you want, sweet prince.”

“Don’t stop.” Seonghwa threw his arm up over his face. “I’m close, I--” He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth. The dry roughness of Hongjoong’s skin made his dick feel raw. He moved to push his hands away, but flexed his fingers in hesitation because he didn’t want him to stop.

Hongjoong let go and leaned away and Seonghwa’s vision swam. He made a noise of protest and grabbed at Hongjoong’s arms. Hongjoong giggled, back to fishing around the drawer. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna make it better.” He sat back with a small corked bottle not much bigger than a pot of ink. Uncorked, it smelled sweet and pleasant. Drizzled over Hongjoong’s hand and then wrapped around Seonghwa’s dick, it felt heavenly slick and soothed the raw skin. Seonghwa moaned.

“Oh my- That feels so good,” he gasped. “Captain,” his voice broke, a desperate whine. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Hongjoong kissed his lips, his cheek, his jaw. “Should’ve known you’d like it wet,” he murmured, probably more to himself than to Seonghwa. He slowed his strokes, used his other hand to cup Seonghwa’s balls and play with them while Seonghwa arched and shivered and sighed. It felt like a dream.

Euphoria.

Seonghwa dangled from the edge of that precipice, ready to let go. A slick finger smoothed down from his balls to rub over his rim. The word “no” stuck in his throat as whatever had been holding him together snapped.

Blinding light and endless darkness. Searing heat and cool relief.

Seonghwa shivered and wrapped his arms tightly around Hongjoong’s waist to keep him close. He spoke softly, pretty words and sweet kisses.

When Seonghwa came back to himself, he ran his hand over Hongjoong’s hip, but only his fingertips brushed the hard outline of his cock before Hongjoong caught it. “No, darling. Not right now. They’re already wondering where I am. I have a lot to do today.”

Seonghwa blinked at him and pouted. “But that’s not fair.”

Hongjoong kissed his pouted lip and sat back with a smile. “It’s alright, love. I’ll just wait until after the fight and come back to you hot…” He leaned over Seonghwa with dangerous hunger in his eyes. “And desperate.”

Seonghwa turned his head away blushing furiously. Had he really said that?

Fabric rustled as Hongjoong dressed quickly. “Do you want me to clean you up?” he offered.

Seonghwa looked down at the mess on his stomach and frowned. “No, thank you. I can manage.”

“Alright, dear.” He leaned down to give Seonghwa one more kiss as he fastened his trousers. “Dress up today, if you don’t mind. I’d like to give this red flag a reminder of what power means.”

Seonghwa found a rag beside the bed and used it to wipe off his stomach. “So I’m a trophy today?”

Hongjoong paused with one boot on. “Does that offend you?”

The rag felt rough over his skin and he wanted a bath. “Sometimes.”

Hongjoong hopped as he pulled his other boot on. “I mean no offense, love. It’s a power play. You understand that.”

“I do.” Seonghwa agreed. “I’ll wear a corset.”

“Perfect.” Hongjoong winked as he left the room. “And arm yourself.”

The merchant ship’s red flag stood out in painful contrast with the blue sky. A little smaller than the Horizon, but much more flashy. It appeared to be a passenger vessel for upper class patrons, probably following the rout to the deep gulf between Seonghwa’s kingdom and the next. A natural target for pirates.

The crew performed their duties with excited focus and efficiency. Yunho approached Seonghwa mid-morning with a gleaming pistol and a decorative rapier that almost definitely used to belong to a military officer.

“I’ve never used a pistol,” Seonghwa told him, hesitant to take the weapon.

Yunho shrugged. “It’s not so hard, your Highness. Point and pull the trigger.”

Seonghwa accepted the gun and the holster, which hung loose around his hips under his blue velvet jacket. “When will the fight begin?” he wondered.

Yunho looked across the deck at the other ship. “When they come in range of cannonfire. Probably a few hours.” He smiled in mock sympathy. “They’re trying to outrun us.”

Seonghwa nodded slowly. “Do you plan to sink the ship?”

“No,” Yunho sighed, almost regretfully. “The Captain wants to stir fear. We’ll take everything of value and kill anyone stands in our way, but leave as many survivors as possible to tell the tale of our cruelty.”

Seonghwa could hear his own heartbeat thundering past his ears. “Do not kill anyone unless absolutley necessary. Only injure those who try to stop you.”

Yunho’s mouth pulled into a darkly amused smile. “I don’t take orders from you, your Highness.”

“Where is my husband?” Seonghwa lifted his chin.

Yunho laughed. “At the helm last I saw.”

The blue flag of Seonghwa’s kingdom flapped overhead underneath the black pirate flag. An act of aggression like this would be politically colored and potentially read as a declaration of war. The red kingdom didn’t tend to seek out conflict, but wouldn’t hide from it. Seonghwa’s father would never forgive him for starting a war.

The edge of a headache crept into Seonghwa’s temples and he blamed dehydration.

“Wooyoung.” He stopped the cook as he passed. “Do you fight with the others?”

Wooyoung looked offended. “Of course I do.”

Seonghwa held up his hand apologetically. “Could you do me a favor?”

Wooyoung shifted his jaw, eyes narrowed. “I think I owe you two.”

That settled pleasantly on Seonghwa’s shoulders and made him stand up straighter. “I assume you’ll check all their stores anyway. If they have water - or tea - bring it back for me.”

Wooyoung crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. “You’re asking me to steal something for you?”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together. He didn’t like to look at it under that light. “They’ll return to shore - a few days at most - after you pirate them. I can’t stop that from happening,” Seonghwa reasoned. “We’re going to be at sea another month at the least and I am so sick of fighting dehydration on this floating ash heap.”

“What did you call my ship, darling?” Hongjoong’s sacharine voice set Seonghwa’s teeth on edge.

He whirled around to face his husband. “Captain-”

Hongjoong cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Do not speak ill of my ship.” It held a threat and sent a chill through Seonghwa’s chest.

Wooyoung giggled as Hongjoong walked away. Seonghwa threw him a look, but Wooyoung grinned wide. “I’ll steal your water, Highness. And all the tea they have.” He paused to give Seonghwa a slow up and down. “And their fanciest wine. Since you hate the rum so much.”

Seonghwa didn’t flinch. “Sweet. Red. Ideally a tawny port more than ten years old.”

Wooyoung nodded, impressed. “I’ll do what I can.”

“But have you considered the political consequences of your actions here?” Seonghwa crossed his arms and rocked on his heels while Hongjoong armed himself to the teeth.

“Believe me, my love.” He strapped a dagger to his thigh. “I’ve considered every consequence.”

“Then you’re willing to start a war?” Seonghwa could see everything fall to ruin so quickly. An insult blown out of proportion, and excuse to attack or invade. A bloody, expensive conflict.

Hongjoong’s giggle sounded devious as he examined his reflection in a short knife blade. “I’m not starting a war, darling. I don’t have that authority. You’re not the king yet.”

Seonghwa swallowed the dryness in his mouth. “You’re flying a blue flag. You want me to be visible. It looks like you’re acting on behalf-”

“I am no one’s navy.” Hongjoong braced his foot against the wall to lace his boot around the addition of a knife. “If your father wants me to be a political entity, he’ll have to renegotiate the terms of our treaty.”

Seonghwa couldn’t convince him not to do this and he couldn’t convince him to change the way he did it. “What am I to do while you slaughter innocents?” Seonghwa asked mildly.

Hongjoong snorted and checked that his pistol was loaded. “Are any aristocrats really innocent?” He shoved the pistol into the holster at his hip. “You’ll remain here and keep out of the way of stray bullets.” He fastened another leather cord around his waist to hold his wicked cutlass. “Wait for me to return to you.” A predatory smile as he tightened the buckle and leaned close to Seonghwa. “Hot and desperate.” He leaned back without kissing Seonghwa and slid his sword into the belt.

Seonghwa shivered, heat coloring his cheeks. “What if you’re injured?”

Hongjoong exhaled sharply through his nose. “You insult me.”

“No, I just wish you’d be careful.” Seonghwa looked away. He didn’t want anything to happen to Hongjoong. He feared his fate if Hongjoong left the picture. Seonghwa lost all power at sea without his husband to back him up. And even if he made it back to land, he’d caused too much of a stir. Too many dangerous people wanted his head. He put all his eggs in one basket.

Hongjoong cooed and cupped his cheek. “Aww.” Something undeniably soft in his eyes made Seonghwa’s heart skip a few beats. “My sweet prince cares.”

There was also the fact that if something happened to Hongjoong, Seonghwa would miss him. He did care. Probably more than he should.

He turned his head away and took a step back. “I’m too young to be widowed.”

Hongjoong checked his weapons one last time. “You will not be widowed.” He sounded so sure, Seonghwa felt inclined to believe him.

The sound of gunshots ringing steel rang out over the open ocean. Seonghwa stood in the middle of the deck watching the fight on the other ship. They’d pulled much closer than the last time. A thick plank of wood connected the two ships, spanning the narrow strip of water between them.

The late afternoon sunlight illuminated the violence in gold. Seonghwa watched Yunho run a sword through a man’s stomach. Mingi shot a pistol at the wigged captain with a loud shout at the parrot. “Fix on!” The green devil attacked just as viciously as Seonghwa suspected it could, poking out eyes and biting noses. San and Yeosang danced across the other deck with knives flashing. Jongho perched atop their forecastle and shot anyone threatening his crew with deadly accuracy. Wooyoung threw knives and stole keys and pocketed broaches and watches and jewels.

And Hongjoong. He had yet to even swing his sword. But he shouted orders and the passengers on the ship dropped their valuables into trunks and scurried away.

Seonghwa felt restless. He swished his rapier in the air beside him. The wigged captain approached Hongjoong with a petulant stomp in his steps. Seonghwa found himself walking toward the other ship. Not because he thought Hongjoong needed his assistance, but because Hongjoong shouldn’t kill the captain of this vessel and Seonghwa could make him look powerful without being violent.

He stepped up onto the plank connecting the ships and ran across without looking down. No one noticed him the first few steps on the merchant ship, but a soldier stepped in front of him before he made it within sight of Hongjoong on the higher deck.

Seonghwa felt a rush of adrenaline. The badges on the solider’s uniform identified him as a ground footsoldier, not a navyman. Seonghwa could win this fight.

He stepped out of the way of the first swing, then countered exactly the way he’d trained his whole life. He drew it out, enjoying the way he felt in control of every ringing clash of steel, every step, every spin, every choreographed lunge. But a crash from the upper deck brought him back to reality and he twisted his rapier in a way Yunho taught him. The soldier’s sword flew out of his hand and skidded across the deck to fall into the space between the ships. He ran before Seonghwa could say anything.

The victory buzzed beneath Seonghwa’s skin, but before he could find the steps up to the higher deck, he felt a presence behind him.

He twirled to clash swords with a man he’d hoped to never see again. Surprise made it easy for Seonghwa to disarm him and rest the point of his sword at his throat. “Ambassador Park Jinyoung,” Seonghwa curled his lip in disgust. “You appear to have found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He lowered his sword, and the sound of breaking glass somewhere across the ship brought a smile to his face. “How unfortunate.”

Very few people earned Seonghwa’s genuine hatred. He considered himself a gentleman, a gentle soul. He forgave a great many people a great many sins. But he could still see his youngest sister in the darkness of the chapel with a single candle to illuminate her tears. He could still hear her soft footfalls pacing the hall, unable to sleep. He could still feel the white-hot rage that burned in his blood, and his mother’s cool hand on his arm telling him to leave it be. Do not start a war, Seonghwa. More people will be hurt.

“Prince Seonghwa,” the ambassador greeted him coolly. “I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Seonghwa swung his sword at his side and leaned his weight on one leg the careless way he’d seen Hongjoong do so many times.

“A prince,” Jinyoung spat. “Who married a pirate?” He shook his head and sniffed his short nose. “If I were you, I’d die of embarrassment.”

Seonghwa felt hot and itchy. He curled his fingers tighter around the hilt of his sword. “And yet you haven’t died of shame for the crimes your status allows you.”

“Crimes?” Jinyoung adjusted the white ruffles at his collar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Perhaps it would be better to remiain diplomatic. Not start a war. "How is your wife?" Sweonghwa swished his sword restlessly at his side.

A slimy smile. "Oh, we're no longer together." He brushed imagined dirt from his sleeve cuffs. "Difference of priorities. You understand."

Seonghwa grimaced. Good for her, getting free of him. "You divorced her?" While not unheard of in the upper class, divorce could be devastating to a woman's station and her prospects of a second marriage.

"A tragedy." Jinyoung didn't sound sorry at all. "But you'll be pleased to know I've remarried."

"How old is your new wife?" Seonghwa swatted the flat of his blade against his leg, itching. He didn't know exactly what he itched for, but it burned in his chest like a poison ivy rash.

Another slimy smile. "She's a pretty young thing. Sixteen or so."

"A child." Seonghwa's lungs froze over and he wished he could be surprised. She probably wasn’t even sixteen - sixteen being the absolute youngest acceptable age of marriage. "You disgusting swine."

Jinyoung frowned dangerously. "I disgust you, your Highness? My wife is woman." He leaned forward. "Can you honestly say your husband is a man? Isn't he a demon?"

Seonghwa's sword sliced through the air at his side. A series of crashes from the upper deck did not make him jamp. "My husband is more of a man than you will ever be." This sick bastard had no right to insult him. "And if he is a demon, I'll have him reserve a special place for you in hell." A sneer curled Seonghwa's lip. "And send you there himself."

"Hell?" He had the audacity to sound surprised. "What have I done to deserve damnation?"

Seonghwa saw red. His sister trembled for days after, wouldn't leave her bedroom, wouldn't talk to anyone but their mother, wouldn't eat, wouldn't look anyone in the eye. How dare this monster deny the irreparable damage he inflicted on her life? And likely countless others?

He raised his sword to the ambassador’s throat and stepped closer. “She was only a child,” he seethed through clenched teeth. “A child. All of twelve years old.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jinyoung’s breath smelled like stale coffee and decay.

“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong’s voice brought him back to earth and he stepped away with a shaky exhale. “Are you alright, darling?”

“Yes, dear,” Seonghwa sighed and leaned back into his husband performatively. "I'm fine." Die of embarrassment? As if. “Ambassador Park was just trying to assassinate me.”

“Is that so?” Hongjoong cooed sympathetically and walked him forward with an arm around his waist, effectively backing Jinyoung into a corner. “Would you like me to kill him, sweetheart?” He said it casually, as if this sort of thing happened every day. And while Seonghwa was relieved that Hongjoong would play along unquestioningly with his dramatics, it also chilled him and cut some of his anger.

“No.” He sheathed his sword. “We wouldn’t want to start a war.” He searched for fear on Jinyoung’s face and didn’t find nearly enough. “Ambassador Park is a well respected member of society.”

Hongjoong squeezed his hip as if he heard the resentment in that statement and wanted to know what quarrel Seonghwa had with this man.

“Not respected within the royal family,” Seonghwa added, eyes narrowed. Jinyoung should be afraid. He didn’t understand the power Seonghwa held here. He didn’t know that a single word from Seonghwa would make Hongjoong slit his throat or blow his brains out. He had no idea. “Despised, actually. My mother crosses herself whenever she hears his name.”

Jinyoung still didn’t look frightened. His squished, squarish face still looked proud.

“But aren’t his earrings lovely, Captain?” Seonghwa used the exaggerated tone his mother used when she wanted something from his father. “You like it when I wear pearl drops like that, don’t you?”

He expected Hongjoong to rip the earring from Jinyoung’s ear or demand him to remove it. He did not expect the flash of a dagger and a wail of pain. He did not expect Jinyoung to collapse, clutching the side of his head with blood spilling over his fingers and staining the fine silk of his jacket. He did not expect Hongjoong to toss the severed ear aside carelessly and stoop to wipe blood from the pearl earring on the white frills of Jinyoung’s collar.

Seonghwa couldn’t breathe while Hongjoong fastened the earring onto his ear with careful fingers. “There you are. Much prettier on you. It suits you so well, love.”

Seonghwa’s heart raced like it meant to escape his chest and run all the way back to his palace.

Hongjoong knelt with his knife to catch the other ear. Jinyoung pleaded pitifully. “No. Stop! Please don’t- No, no, please!”

Something changed in the air. Like the chime of a bell or the click of watch gear. Or the tip of a scale into balance. Justice. Seonghwa wet his lips and found his breath, unwavering. “Did my sister say the same to you?”

Hongjoong froze. He looked slowly up at Seonghwa with dark, bottomless eyes that promised great violence should Seonghwa wish it. Power sparked under Seonghwa’s skin, hot and sharp and dangerous.

Jinyoung continued to plead. For his life. For his ear. For Seonghwa’s forgiveness.

But it was not Seonghwa's place to forgive him.

He reached up and touched the pearl earring in his own ear, smooth and warm against his fingers. “Pearls are for innocence.” He tugged on his earlobe. Stolen innocence. Stolen childhood. Stolen dreams.

Hongjoong had a hold of the other earring despite Jinyoung’s squirming and moaning, unable to decide whether to claw at Hongjoong’s hand or hold the injured side of his head. A scale weighed tears and blood, almost aligned. Almost balanced.

“Rip it out,” Seonghwa commanded.

Another high, agonized wail froze the air in Seonghwa’s lungs.

Justice.

His breath returned in shallow gasps by the time Hongjoong cleaned the earring and stood to drop it in Seonghwa’s hand. A token of lost innocence. A pretty thing with no autonomy. A prize passed from hand to hand and never asked if it minded the difference. A trophy of a contest that never should have been fought. A reminder of pain inflicted and the boiling guilt that induced.

The accusing weight of the pearl in his palm dropped his stomach like lead to the bottom of the ocean beneath them. Seonghwa ran. He ran back over the plank to the Horizon, all the way across the ship, and into the Captain’s quarters. He hurled the earring as far away as he could and paused at his reflection in the mirror.

The prince who married a pirate. The prince who ordered pain. The prince who lost his moral highground to vengeance.

It replayed endlessly in his mind. Hongjoong’s sharp tug, the bright swell of blood as the earlobe tore open, the jagged skin, the scream of pain.

Seonghwa panted shallowly. He felt too hot, but cold shivers shook him. Nauseous guilt rose up the back of his throat. And anger. And pride. He collapsed onto the bed with a hand over his mouth.

Precious little this did in the scheme of things. A petty display of pirate cruelty. A shallow, flashy preening of Seonghwa's feathers. An ear for an assault. An uneven retribution.

It was terrible. A terrible thing to have done. A terrible memory to carry now. It didn’t help his sister. It didn’t help anyone. It might have started a war. It might have been avoided if Seonghwa had done as he was told and stayed on the Horizon and never meddled in wicked pirating and held onto his own innocence.

Seonghwa felt sick at his stomach. He clutched at the teardrop-shaped pearl dangling from his ear. He didn’t deserve to wear pearls either. Not after he ordered such violence. Not after he - for just a fleeting moment - felt so vindicated.

A warm hand on his shoulder. “Seonghwa,” Hongjoong’s soothing voice. “Seonghwa, I’m here. Darling, it’s alright.” He climbed up onto the bed next to him. “It’s alright, my love. You’re safe. You’re safe, I’m right here.”

Seonghwa crawled into his arms, cheeks wet with tears, shoulders jumping with unsteady breaths. “Hongjoong,” he sobbed. “I hurt him. I’m-” he hiccuped and clutched Hongjoong’s shirt so tight he’d have the imprints of wrinkles in his hands later. “I’m no better than he is. I hurt him, I hurt--” His voice broke.

Hongjoong held his face and swiped tears from his cheeks with his thumbs. “No,” he said gently but firmly. “You didn’t hurt him, ‘Hwa, I did.”

“I told you to,” Seonghwa whispered. “I wanted you to.”

Justice.

He cried harder and Hongjoong held him against his chest, petting his hair and murmuring sweet comforts.

When Seonghwa calmed down enough to breathe deeply again, Hongjoong kissed his forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Seonghwa shifted himself in Hongjoong’s lap and rested his hands on his shoulders. Talking through it would help. And Seonghwa didn’t think he could hold all this inside himself. “Ambassador Park Jinyoung raped my sister.” Seonghwa realized that was the first time anyone said those words out loud. They always talked around it, never called a spade a shovel. “She was just a child. He stole that from her. Stole her innocence.” He reached up to finger the earring again. “We couldn’t do anything about it because it would start a conflict.” Seonghwa shivered. “My older sister came to me the day after it happened. She said-” His voice broke and he had to take a moment to steady his breathing enough to continue. “She said ‘where were you, Hwa? You’re our brother. You’re supposed to protect us--” He dissolved into sobs again, trembling in his husband’s arms.

“Seonghwa…” Hongjoong held him tighter. “I’m so sorry.” He lifted Seonghwa’s chin to kiss his lips and cheeks and wipe the tears away from his eyes. “If I’d known, I would have cut off his dick instead of his ear.”

Seonghwa laughed bitterly through his tears and collapsed against Hongjoong’s chest. “No. No, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have wanted it.”

“There’s still time.” Hongjoong petted his hair. “Your family is my family. Your sisters are my sisters, I’ll kill him.” He looked so sincere, so beautiful. "I'll cut off his dick and stick it so far up his ass he chokes on it."

"No." Seonghwa shook his head against Hongjoong's chest. "I've already started a war."

Hongjoong made a series of fond disagreeing noises. "You care about your sisters. You're close. I can tell." He kissed Seonghwa's head. "I'll kill anyone who threatens them." His fingers smoothed through Seonghwa's hair. "It's an eye for an eye, darling."

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," Seonghwa whispered.

"Don't worry yourself, my love," Hongjoong hummed. "I'll explain to their king exactly what the ambassador deserves."

“No,” Seonghwa pleaded. “Just hold me. Please, Captain? Stay with me?”

Hongjoong rubbed his back and nosed against the top of his head. “Hush love, I’m here,” he soothed. “I’m right here, my darling. I’m not going anywhere.”

After a moment of soaking in the warmth of his attention, Seonghwa sat up, brows furrowed. “I’ve ruined everything,” he apologized. “We were supposed to- after the fight--” He slid to the floor between Hongjoong’s knees. “I can just-”

“No.” Hongjoong pulled him back onto the bed. “No, love.” He wrapped his arms around him. “If you’re going to cry while I touch you, I want it to be because you feel so good you can’t contain it. Not because you’re guilty over an ear.”

“I’ve stooped to his level,” Seonghwa reasoned to defend himself. “I wanted you to hurt him.”

“You don’t need to explain it me, precious. I’m not going to understand.” Hongjoong took a deep breath. “You’re a good man, Seonghwa. You want to defend the people you care about. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He rubbed Seonghwa’s back. “I understand that you think this makes you a monster, but I disagree.”

“Then what am I?” Seonghwa wondered.

“You’re mine.” Hongjoong didn’t hesitate. “That’s enough.”

Seonghwa woke to the sunset and an empty stomach. Hongjoong left him - not unusual, he had a ship to run. So Seonghwa went to find dinner and see if Wooyoung stole him a good port wine.

Mingi and Yunho spoke in hushed tones in the navigation room. Seonghwa paused outside to listen.

“We can make it there in three weeks if the wind cooperates,” Mingi’s gruff voice observed. “But why? Has the Captain had his fun? Ready to return his toy?”

“I think it’s a strategic move,” Yunho said. “He just asked how long it would take. Didn’t tell me why yet.”

“You think we’ll get rid of the prince?” Mingi sounded too hopeful and Seonghwa frowned.

“It’s hard to say,” Yunho’s frown was audible. “But it would make sense to tell the king if Bang Chan really means to follow through.”

Seonghwa pretended to tie his boot when Yeosang walked by. They might take him home. While he wanted to see his mother and sisters again, he didn’t think he’d like it if Hongjoong left him there.

“He’d be a sitting duck in that castle,” Mingi said. “Most dangerous place for him.”

Yunho tapped on the map table. “If I know Hongjoong, that’s exactly what he wants. Set the bait. Spring the trap.”

Seonghwa stood slowly. Bait and traps. Pirates and princes. He took a breath and continued walking. At least he had water now and didn’t have to drink the awful grog.

Chapter Text

Sleep eluded Seonghwa like a star on the horizon. However far he ran, it stretched further and further from his grasp. Even curled up against his husband's chest listening to his deep, even breathing. Even with the weight of Hongjoong's arm slung over his back and the smell of the sea on Hongjoong's skin.

Seonghwa laid very still and counted the rocking of the ship. Back and forth. Back and forth.

So many thoughts and emotions crowded his mind that it canceled out to nothing at all. White noise.

Hongjoong stirred and Seonghwa watched his face, relaxed and unguarded in sleep. Long eyelashes that brushed his smooth cheeks. A severe jaw and too many piercings in his ears. Bowed lips slightly parted around his gentle breaths. Beautiful. Wild and savage and beautiful. Like the sea.

He took a deep breath, rubbed his hand down Seonghwa's back, and blinked his eyes open. "You're awake?" His voice sounded low and scratchy from sleep. He raised a hand to stroke Seonghwa's cheek. "Are you alright, love?"

Seonghwa pushed himself up and rolled over to lay against the pillows. "What did you do to the man I turned over to you at the market?" It nagged at him. A curious itch he knew he shouldn't scratch.

Hongjoong propped himself up on his elbows and blinked at Seonghwa with a wrinkled brow. "Are you sure-"

"I want to know." Seonghwa looked up at the dark ceiling.

He heard Hongjoong shift under the blanket. "I shot him," he offered cautiously. "Shattered his kneecap. I assume he dragged himself back to his ship."

Seonghwa closed his eyes. A shattered kneecap. Medicine couldn't repair that. He'd be a cripple the rest of his life. He wouldn't be able to sail. Because of Seonghwa's pride, he lost his dignity and his livelihood.

Hongjoong spoke to fill the uneasy silence. "Only one knee. Wasn't worth two rounds, and they've raised the price of ammunition." He forced an unsteady laugh. "He didn't beg or anything. I have respect for him. I'm sure he's alive. I told him to tell his captain not to forget that the Pirate King loves his prince-"

"Does he?" Seonghwa turned to face his husband. "Do you love me?"

He couldn't see Hongjoong's face in the darkness. "Seonghwa…"

"Do you love me?" Seonghwa sat up against the pillows.

Hongjoong sat up slowly, fiddling with the blanket. "I am terribly fond of you," he said at last.

"Do you love me?" Seonghwa had to know.

An uncomfortable laugh. "Do you love me?" He leaned his head against the wall so his striking profile silhouetted the dim predawn light.

Seonghwa stopped to think about it. Did he love his husband? He'd begun to trust him. He liked it when he touched him and called him darling and beautiful. What did love mean, really?

"I would be unhappy if you left me," he spoke carefully.

Hongjoong sighed, regretful. "We never promised love."

"No," Seonghwa agreed. "We didn't."

After another heavy silence, Hongjoong hummed. "I should get up."

Seonghwa found his hand on the bed between them and laced their fingers together. "I would like another moment of your company." He knew as soon as Hongjoong left, his thoughts would come crashing back full force. His fear always returned when Hongjoong left his side.

Hongjoong squeezed his hand. "You cannot make a habit of delaying me in the morning. Yunho will notice." He ran his thumb over Seonghwa's knuckles. "I'm not above the rules either and I'm sure you don't want to watch me take a half dozen lashes for tardiness."

Seonghwa didn't want that. He didn't want to see Hongjoong hurt. "That's less than Wooyoung had."

"It is."

"Would you cry?" Seonghwa wondered. "Would you bleed?"

A light shake of his head. "It's hard to say. I think it would depend on Yunho's mood."

Seonghwa held his hand tighter. "Yeosang said you slept with Yunho. He said Yunho is your favorite."

A smile leaked into Hongjoong's tone. "He's right."

"Do you miss him?" Seonghwa dreaded the answer.

A contemplative silence. Hongjoong's thumb continued to sweep over Seonghwa's knuckles in the soft darkness. "No," Hongjoong decided. "I don't miss him."

"But you miss the sex," Seonghwa guessed.

A light giggle. "I'm not that shallow, Hwa." He leaned over to kiss Seonghwa's cheek. "I need to get up."

Seonghwa let him go.

He dressed quickly and quietly and spared Seonghwa an unreadable look before left and shut the door behind him.

Seonghwa sat there until the sun shone through the windows to illuminate the room. He counted his sins and wondered if loving his husband would make him a villain.

Already it looked that way. But it almost seemed inevitable. A storm on the horizon, and Seonghwa just a longboat tossed on the raging sea. Falling in love must be a little like drowning, he thought. Fear and panic and no air to breathe as water filled the lungs, but a sudden calm and a sudden oneness when the sea claimed her own.

Seonghwa could feel his lungs filling with water. But would he fight the sea or drink it down? Breathe it all in and let it wash over him?

Guilt still sloshed heavy in the pit of his stomach. Not today. He wouldn't drown today.

Yunho wiped his sweat-damp hair off his forehead in the burning light of the cloudless midday sky. "Good. Faster." He raised his sword again.

Seonghwa's shirt stuck to his skin and he felt parched in a way he knew fancy stolen tea couldn't satisfy. But he swung his sword and met Yunho's every stroke.

He imitated the way Yunho moved; the placement of his feet, the rotation of his shoulders, the bend of his knees, the flex of his arms. Yunho had a physical power Seonghwa couldn't emulate, but he made up for it with speed and grace. A sudden step to the side threw Yunho off enough for Seonghwa to knock the sword from his hand.

Yunho laughed while Seonghwa turned his face skyward and wiped sweat from his temples. "Good. Very good." Yunho picked up his sword. "That was clever."

Seonghwa shook his arms out and stretched his neck. "I think I understand," he panted. "It's about balance."

"Yes.” Yunho stood with his sword ready. "Again."

Steel rang over the deck in time with the scuff of Seonghwa’s boots and the subtle clink of the beads and bits of shells tied and braided into Yunho’s hair.

Seonghwa held his posture relaxed in the way Yunho did, not upright like he was used to. He kept himself aligned with his sword, not in the flashy performative way of a duel, but as an extension of his arm. Natural, easy. Still a dance, just not as strictly choreographed.

Seonghwa’s sword clattered as it hit the deck and the cool edge of Yunho’s blade pressed against his neck in a stripe of relief from the hot sun. He laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “I had you on the ropes.”

Yunho shook his head and dropped his sword to his side. “No, but you get better every time.”

It felt good to work hard again. To improve. To learn and grow in a skill. Seonghwa bowed his head. “That’s enough for today. I’ll collapse if I go another round.”

San dropped from the rigging. “And here I thought you kept our Captain satisfied.”

If Seonghwa’s face hadn’t already been flushed, he would have blushed at that even as he narrowed his eyes at San. "Who says I don't?"

San gave him an unimpressed up-and-down, then turned to Yunho. "The wind is with us. Mingi says we'll reach the channel in a few days."

Yunho nodded, deep in thought. "We might need to stop in Crescent before we cross the channel. It's always crawling with everyone's navy. The price of ammunition in Fever was unreasonable and I told Jongho to prioritize pistol rounds over cannonballs."

San folded his hands behind his back and tilted his head. "Captain said we're not stopping for anything, sir."

Yunho turned his frown to Seonghwa as if it were somehow his fault. "I'll talk to Jongho. Check our stock." He slid his sword into his belt. "I'll have Prince Seonghwa advocate for stopping if we don't have enough to win a shootout with a navy ship."

Seonghwa watched him walk away and wondered if he really had more influence over Hongjoong than Yunho did.

"Put your sword away, princeling." San walked backward. "I'm supposed to show you all the silk and pearls we stole for you." He twirled to walk forward toward the cabin. "Captain's orders."

Seonghwa followed him reluctantly into the cabin. Wooyoung waited in a mess of finery in the middle of the floor. He grinned wide as San shut the door behind them. "You like jade, don't you, Highness?"

"Yes." Seonghwa picked his way through the piles of skirts and jackets and trousers to see the necklace Wooyoung held out to him. Delicate, with polished jade beads between gold chain. "It's very pretty," he said.

"No, no," San scolded, pushing aside a heavy velvet gown to get to another pile of jewelry. "Something like this." He held up a dramatic necklace; a lattice of silver filigree with embedded emeralds and faceted jade. The bib-like shape was intended to hug a woman's slender neck and dangle just shy of her cleavage.

Seonghwa held it up to himself and stepped up to the small framed mirror on the wall. With just the right shirt and a deep green waistcoat, it would look astounding. "I think I'd like to keep this one."

San made a triumphant noise. "All this is yours already, dear prince. Keep it all if you like."

Seonghwa surveyed the mess and shook his head. "There's too much. I'd like a few jackets - maybe three? And a waistcoat or two. I doubt any of the trousers will fit me and I just got some new tailored…" he trailed off when Wooyoung held up a black leather corset. A silk panel under the laces in the back made it adjustable and the craftsmanship even at a distance stunned Seonghwa to silence. "I didn't realize people used leather…" he lifted it and the supple feel beneath his fingers made his mouth water. Boned with flexible steel, it would hold its shape and lined with dyed cotton, it would be incredibly comfortable.

He fastened it around his waist and tightened the laces. It felt secure. It would be more defense than silk and it tapered his waist away to nothing.

He turned side to side in the mirror, checking all angles, a smile growing on his face. "Oh, my husband will like this."

And the thought of that - of the look on Hongjoong's face, of the way he would wrap his hands around Seonghwa's waist and marvel, of the filthy promises he would make - made Seonghwa unreasonably happy. He wanted to please his husband. He wanted to be the sole beneficiary of Hongjoong's lust.

San looked at him darkly from across the room. "For my own sanity, please do not wear it out on the deck." His eyes didn't leave Seonghwa's waist. "I'm rather sick of watching him throw himself at you."

The mirror made Seonghwa bold. He smoothed his hands over the leather. "You're jealous." He turned around to face San. "But of whom, I wonder." He wrapped a hand around his own throat loosely in the way Hongjoong liked to hold him. "Do you miss his cock, or would you rather be allowed to touch me?" It made him feel powerful to be so desired.

"Careful, Highness," San warned. "If you seduce me, you won't be spared the whip."

Seonghwa scoffed, caught. "I mean to seduce the Captain," he recovered easily. "Do you know what he likes?" He asked Wooyoung.

Wooyoung's sly grin told Seonghwa everything he needed to know.

An hour or so later, Seonghwa wore a delicate lace shirt that stretched nearly too tight over his shoulders and arms, but bloused over the top of the leather corset where he didn't have breasts to fill it out. Pearls around his neck, his wrist, and in his ears caught the light and gave him a soft appearance, belied by the dark fitted trousers, high boots that hugged his calves, and the beautiful, jewel-encrusted rapier at his hip.

Seonghwa rolled the pearls around his throat between his fingers. "Is it too much?"

"You'll knock him dead." Wooyoung sounded proud of himself. "And here's what you have to do, alright?" He talked with his hands excitedly. "You have to walk up to him at the helm and just slowly sink to your knees." Wooyoung demonstrated. "And blink up at him, but don't touch." He blinked vapidly. "Bite your lip. Bow your head. And say "My Captain, may I stay here with you?" And you have to say it innocently, like he might tell you no."

Seonghwa took notes. "So I shouldn't walk up to him and ask him to kiss me?"

San shoved Wooyoung where he still knelt on the floor. "Depends on what you want. If you ask him to kiss you, he'll kiss you, and it'll probably go farther." San paused to make a face. "But if you want him to ruin you…"

Seonghwa shivered, but the guarded desire in San's eyes made him question again how bad it would actually be to let Hongjoong have his way with him.

He smoothed his hands over the soft leather and decided he'd split the difference. He wouldn't kneel, wouldn't make a show of it, but he would bow his head and speak softly and ask politely.

"All hands on deck. Where is my husband?" The door banged open and Hongjoong strutted in, only to freeze mid-step when he saw Seonghwa. Hot, unadulterated lust rolled off him in waves. "Report to Yunho," he ordered, but his voice sounded dangerously quiet and he never looked away from Seonghwa.

San and Wooyoung scurried out of the cabin with muttered 'yessir's.

"My Captain," Seonghwa started, bowing his head.

"Seonghwa, I need you to understand the amount of restraint I practice on a daily basis with you." Strained words forced through his teeth. His hands twitched for the weapons at his sides. Seonghwa feared he might not make it out of this unscathed. "I want you to feel confident and look beautiful. I do want that for you." He took a shaky breath through clenched teeth. "But I am not accustomed to being denied what I want."

"What do you want?" Seonghwa whispered. He knew. He thought he knew. But he still wanted to hear Hongjoong say it.

His breathing had picked up and he turned his head away, eyes squeezed shut. "I want to make you cum so hard you forget your own name." He stretched his jaw and opened his eyes, but still didn't look at Seonghwa. "I want to watch your beautiful face while I fuck you so deep I can see it." He touched his low stomach and Seonghwa shivered. "I want to be your first and only. I want to finger you until you cry. I want to take you apart. Fuck Seonghwa, I want to be your husband."

The ship swayed around Seonghwa and there didn't seem to be enough air in the cabin despite the open door. "Captain." He stumbled a few steps forward before Hongjoong held up a hand to stop him.

"We need to fight off a navy warship. You should stay in our quarters for now. I might tell you to move below deck if things go sideways." He turned to leave, still not looking at him.

"Captain," Seonghwa protested. He didn't like the idea that Hongjoong might be angry with him and he wanted to resolve it.

Hongjoong turned over his shoulder to pierce Seonghwa with a dark look. "Do not tempt me further." Danger in his tone. He leaned against the doorframe with a sigh, head down. “And do not wear that again until you’re prepared to take my cock.”

Seonghwa stood frozen for a moment after Hongjoong left him. The lace too tight around his arms scratched his skin and the pearls around his neck made it hard to breathe. Weren’t they husbands? Did they have to have sex to qualify for the title? And if that was the case, why didn’t Hongjoong push him on their wedding night?

He tore off the corset and fought the lace over his head. Because Seonghwa would have hated him, he realized. If Hongjoong treated him roughly in any way, or pushed him past his comfort zone that first night, Seonghwa would have hated him. And for whatever reason, Hongjoong didn’t want Seonghwa to hate him.

Seonghwa pulled on a loose shirt with very few ruffles. He didn’t hate Hongjoong. Not even close. He could feel his lungs filling with water and every instinct told him to fight his way back up for air. He tightened the laces of his blue corset and straightened a lightweight silk jacket over his shoulders. The pearls around his neck still looked delicate and he still blamed them for his shortness of breath.

Hongjoong wanted intimacy. Seonghwa wanted security. Safety. Comfort. But this lifestyle wouldn't allow him that. Another fight, Hongjoong said. This time with a naval ship.

Seonghwa's head snapped up to look at his reflection in alarm. Fighting off a warship. He couldn't let Hongjoong do that. It didn't matter where the ship came from, they'd already made one too many political statements by pirating the passenger ship and mutilating an ambassador. He could already hear his father's grating voice demanding to know where he found the audacity to make a king's decisions.

He swallowed his panic at the prospect of asking Hongjoong for anything right now and steeled his nerves. If he did nothing, it would be his fault. He would be complacent. He had to try.

“Hongjoong,” he said with authority he didn’t feel as he strutted across the deck. The parrot on Mingi’s shoulder eyed him and Yunho pressed his mouth into a thin line, but Hongjoong didn’t look at him. “What colors does this navy ship fly?” Almost a demand. These pirates shouldn’t forget that Seonghwa was a prince. Seonghwa shouldn't forget his own place.

“Yellow, your Highness.” Yunho pointed at the ship just beyond them.

Yellow. A dangerous color. Seonghwa’s mother warned him against yellow. “Do not attack.” Seonghwa sounded sure. Confident. “Fly my blue flag and a white flag. Let me talk to them.”

Hongjoong looked at him like he suggested he should eat a cannonball and jump off the side of the ship. “What could you possibly-”

“Diplomacy,” Seonghwa interrupted. “Do not give them an excuse.”

“And when they shoot you where you stand?” Hongjoong argued. “When you’re bleeding out on the deck of a foreign ship? What am I to tell your father? Where’s your diplomacy then?”

Seonghwa swallowed thickly. Hongjoong wouldn’t let that happen. He believed that Hongjoong would protect him. “They have to grant us parlay. They have to hear me out.”

Hongjoong laughed mirthlessly. “You are more naive than I thought. The only laws sovereign on the sea are the ones she enforces herself.”

“Allow me to try,” Seonghwa reasoned. “If I'm not successful, you can still swoop in and kill them all.” He spread his arms. “Captain, you have nothing to lose.”

“I have everything to lose.” Volatile. Violent. The sneer that twisted Hongjoong’s mouth promised pain. “I’m not going to let you strut onto that ship like a lamb to the slaughter.”

Seonghwa glanced at Yunho, who looked increasingly uncomfortable. “You don’t have the ammunition,” he remembered. “You can’t win a fight with a fully stocked warship.”

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes, obviously not expecting that.

Emboldened, Seonghwa sank slowly to his knees the way Wooyoung told him to. “Please, Captain.” His heart raced in his chest. “Let me do this thing. Let me use my influence to avoid a fight. Let me defend your life the way you defend mine.”

Silence stretched on for a moment while Hongjoong regarded Seonghwa kneeling on the deck before him. An obvious display of Hongjoong’s authority. Complete submission. But power still buzzed under Seonghwa’s skin.

The parrot screeched suddenly and Seonghwa startled. “Fuck ‘em all.”

Hongjoong shut his jaw with a snap and turned to Yunho. “Fly the blue flag. Replace the black with white.” He glanced at Seonghwa. “Prepare the guns. You and San will accompany the prince on his diplomatic visit. If they don’t reach an agreement, Fix will be the signal.”

Seonghwa exhaled more air than he thought his lungs could hold.

Hongjoong fixed him with a sharp look. “Do not grovel, dearest. Not even for me.” Seonghwa stood, but Hongjoong’s gaze didn’t soften. “It’s unbecoming for a prince to kneel before a pirate.”

And then he was off to give orders and make preparations and Seonghwa was left to wonder what sort of trouble he got himself into and whether Hongjoong still felt fondly about him at all.

The deck under Seonghwa's feet felt strange and unstable compared to the Horizon. The yellow stripes on the navy captain's uniform stood out like a glaring signal of danger. San and Yunho's presence behind him only steadied Seonghwa's nerves enough for him to stand tall and proud.

"There is no reason for conflict, Admiral," Seonghwa spoke with confidence he tried very hard to convince himself he felt.

"I agree," the admiral inclined his head respectfully. "Except that I took an oath to rid the world of scum and villainy."

Seonghwa wondered why that offended him now when he used the same words to describe Hongjoong just months ago. "My husband would rather have left your ship burning, but I dislike violence." He smiled apologetically. "Wouldn't it be nicer to pass peacefully?"

"Indeed." The admiral agreed, mistrustful. "How do I know you won't turn around and start a firefight anyway?"

"Oh, there's no chance of that," Seonghwa bluffed, "My husband always heeds my wishes."

"Does he?" The admiral didn't appear to believe him. "If you dislike violence so much, tell me why I hear such fantastic stories of the merciless Pirate King?"

Seonghwa smelled a trap and he didn't like it. "He only means to defend me."

The admiral shifted his weight with a glance at San and Yunho. "Allow me to return you to your palace, your Highness. It would be a safer place for you."

"I assure you, sir, there is no safer place for me than at my husband's side." Seonghwa meant every word, and that surprised him a little.

The admiral's lip curled. "Perhaps you are a pirate too."

Seonghwa looked into his eyes and saw his intentions in perfect, lethal clarity. "Fix," he shouted. The bird took flight from Yunho's shoulder and Seonghwa took a step backward against San's solid chest, heart racing. "I did try to de-escalate this peacefully. Let it be known you brought this upon yourself."

San wrapped an arm around Seonghwa's waist and swung him on a rope back to the Horizon. He stumbled to regain his footing when San let him go, and bowed his head to Hongjoong. "I did what I could, Captain."

"And do you feel better now?" Hongjoong asked, voice still sharp.

"I do," Seonghwa admitted. "And please, Captain - if you would - let the admiral live."

Hongjoong took hold of a rope to swing across the gap between the ships. "I make no promises."

Seonghwa watched him draw his sword as he flew on the rope and cut down a sailor before his feet touched the deck.

The boom of a cannon shook the ship beneath Seonghwa's feet. He did what he could. No one could blame him for this.

His eyes tracked Hongjoong across the deck as he cleared the way for Yeosang and Wooyoung to slip below. He moved with deadly grace, a cutlass in his right hand and a pistol in his left. He ducked a sword and shot a sailor in the shoulder, swung around in one fluid movement, and slashed the wicked blade of his sword across the other sailor's chest. Red bloomed around the clean cut and the sailor fell to his knees, but Hongjoong had already stepped away, onto the next.

San helped Wooyoung and Yeosang carry crates of ammunition from the navy ship to the Horizon. Yunho defended them with his two swords as they darted up and down the narrow stairs with their heavy crates. Mingi stood a little way from Seonghwa on the Horizon and used a large rifle to pick off anyone who got too close to Yunho. Jongho perched on a raised deck and shot his pistol to defend Hongjoong as he crossed back over to the Horizon.

The admiral followed on his own rope. “Damn you to hell,” he screamed as he shot at Hongjoong. The bullet flew wide and Hongjoong clashed swords with him before he landed. The admiral’s pistol clicked uselessly, and he tossed it in Hongjoong’s face. The distraction allowed him enough time to dart toward Seonghwa.

Seonghwa drew his sword and fell into the rhythm of a duel. The admiral followed most rules, and the ones he didn’t follow, Seonghwa knew how to defend against. He registered Hongjoong watching the fight with his amused smile. Seonghwa gritted his teeth and misstepped, flustered by the attention. “Captain,” he called.

In the space of a blink, Hongjoong stood between Seonghwa and the admiral with his sword point pressed against the admiral’s uniformed chest and the barrel of his pistol against the admiral’s forehead.

“The only reason you’re not dead yet is Prince Seonghwa asked me not to kill you,” Hongjoong growled. He twisted around so they both faced Seonghwa. “Don’t you think you owe him some gratitude?”

Fear - genuine, desperate fear - trembled in the admiral’s eyes. Seonghwa felt powerful. It felt so much nicer to be feared than to be afraid. And Seonghwa was so tired of being afraid.

A moment of tense silence passed. Seonghwa didn’t back down, didn’t blink first. The admiral sank slowly to his hands and knees, breathing hard. Hongjoong’s gun never left his head. “Thank you, your Highness.” His voice sounded choked.

Power rippled through Seonghwa’s body in a deep, intoxicating wave. He could tell Hongjoong to leave a scar to remind this man not to cross the Pirate King. He could tell Hongjoong to cut off this man’s ear, or hand, or foot. He could tell Hongjoong to blow this man’s brains out.

Seonghwa crouched to his level and lifted his chin between two fingers. “This could have been avoided, Admiral,” he said, smooth and collected. “I told you my husband always heeds my wishes.”

The admiral sneered. “Your father must be so disappointed he never had a real son to be his heir.”

Seonghwa slapped him. Red bloomed on the admiral’s cheek and he laughed at Seonghwa. Like one would laugh at a child. Like one would laugh at a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

Seonghwa stood. “Hongjoong, do not kill this man.” Hongjoong raised his eyebrows, curious, even as his finger flexed on the trigger. “Take him back to his ship. Do what you will with him, but make sure he lives to tell the tale of how he refused my mercy and lost everything.”

Justice. Seonghwa gave him every chance to be civil, to be peaceful. He brought this upon himself.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at Seonghwa, trying to read him. He sent Mingi to fulfill Seonghwa’s wishes, and faced Seonghwa with his arms crossed over his chest. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa sheathed his sword.

“The last time you ordered violence, you had a breakdown. I’d rather not have you go through that again.” His expression remained unreadable.

“I'm not weak.” Seonghwa fidgeted with his jacket. “I’m not weak and sheltered. I’m not naive. And I don't want you to be cross with me.”

Hongjoong blinked at him. “I’m not upset with you.”

“Good.” Seonghwa walked to the railing to watch the fight continue, still giddy with the rush of power. Jongho made an incredible shot across the entire length of the ship and felled a sailor who came after Mingi. Another sailor snuck up behind Jongho and Jongho obviously didn't notice.

"Jongho!" Seonghwa shouted, but he didn't hear.

The enemy sailor raised his sword. He had every intention of killing Jongho. Seonghwa couldn’t let that happen. He pulled the pistol from his hip, and before he could second guess himself, he pointed and pulled the trigger.

Time slowed to a crawl in the space after Seonghwa squeezed the trigger. Jongho was a pirate. Jongho lied and stole and murdered. And yet Seonghwa didn’t want him to die. He hadn’t thought about his actions, hadn’t considered the consequences. This couldn’t be called justice. Only a gut reaction to save one life at the cost of another.

The pistol fired and the shot rang in Seonghwa's ears.

Before the guilt came rushing in, he remembered what Hongjoong said. You want to defend the people you care about. There’s nothing wrong with that. And Seonghwa did care about this crew. However foolish that might be.

The sailor crumpled to the ground and Jongho whirled around and put another bullet between his eyes.

The electric taste of gunpowder in the air made Seonghwa’s head light and his heartbeat quicken. A laugh pushed its way up from his chest and a delighted smile tugged on his lips. He made the shot. He hit his target. He felt Hongjoong’s eyes sharp on his back and knew that the Captain saw everything.

Power fizzed and popped under his skin. "It's not so difficult," he said, a breathless smile pulling his face taught. "To shoot a gun."

Hongjoong joined him at the rail with a savage appraisal in his eyes. "It is a dangerous game you're playing, my dear." An explosion on the navy ship lit his face in an uneven orange glow. "Be careful, sweet prince."

“The admiral accused me of being a pirate.” Seonghwa couldn’t tear his eyes away from his husband. His wild, untamable beauty made Seonghwa’s breath catch in his throat.

Hongjoong hummed with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “I think a time may come when you'll have to make that choice.” He looked at the fire spreading over the deck of the navy ship. “Who are you, Seonghwa?”

“I am yours.” And somehow that was enough.

Chapter Text

The ship rocked less docked at the marina. If Seonghwa wanted to, he could look through the dark, up the hill, at the lights of his palace and imagine the way everyone would look at him. The way they looked at him after the wedding. With judgmental curiosity. Inquisitive superiority. Or disgust.

His older sisters might look at him with shame. His younger sisters might titter behind their fingers and guess at how many times Seonghwa nearly died at sea.

Seonghwa didn’t look forward to his return. He dreaded looking his father in the eye. Dreaded the harsh words that would undoubtedly come when Hongjoong acted too familiar and it became unavoidably obvious that Seonghwa liked the physical familiarity. Dreaded the lecture on responsibility and poise. Dreaded the stiff dinners and the pointed glares.

Seonghwa lit a candle at the small table Jongho helped him carry to Hongjoong’s quarters. Foolishly romantic, he knew. But he needed a moment of foolish romance before he faced his princehood head-on.

A plate of hardtack, another plate of the remaining dried pork, and a dish of potato mush didn’t make a feast, but Seonghwa uncorked the very nice port wine Wooyoung brought him and poured two glasses.

The door opened as Seonghwa took his seat. “Are you ready to talk?” Hongjoong asked - a little brash - with that aggravatingly confident swagger in his steps. “I thought you might have decided you didn’t like me after all.” But he looked too smug to have really been worried.

And yes, Seonghwa withdrew after the skirmish with the red navy warship. He needed time to sort himself out. To come to terms with shooting a gun. And leaving the admiral tied to the mast in his smallclothes, gagged with his own uniform jacket, and bleeding from a large “HJ” carved into his thigh. It was a lot to process.

Seonghwa took a drink of his wine. Beautifully sweet. Wooyoung did well. “I think,” he began slowly, watching Hongjoong fill his plate. “At some level, I wanted to impress you.”

Hongjoong looked up with his eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

“Did it work?” Seonghwa couldn’t keep from asking. “Were you impressed?”

Hongjoong clicked his tongue and continued picking out the largest pieces of pork. “I was concerned more than anything else, darling.” He held a chunk of dried meat between his fingers and considered it, then set it down to look at Seonghwa with such attentiveness it made Seonghwa want to hide. “But you could never disappoint me.”

Seonghwa nibbled at a stale cracker. “I fear I do.” Hongjoong hummed, so Seonghwa clarified, “Disappoint you, I mean.”

“No,” Hongjoong said firmly. “You delight me.” He tasted the wine and made a face. “How do you drink this stuff?” He shook his head and pushed the glass to Seonghwa. “More for you, I suppose.” He stood up to find a bottle of whiskey stashed under the bed. “But don’t get drunk on my ship. Even if we’re not sailing.” He shot Seonghwa a winning smile as he draped himself over the chair and drank straight from the bottle. “But you can get drunk in your palace if you wish.”

Seonghwa swallowed thickly. “No. I wouldn’t dare.” Hongjoong waited for him to elaborate, but Seonghwa wouldn’t. “I’m not quite looking forward to returning.”

“Why is that?” Hongjoong wanted to know. “Don’t you miss your family?”

“I do,” Seonghwa agreed. The thin biscuit cracked between his fingers and he dropped it to his plate. “I’m eager to see my sisters again.” Even if they would tease him to no end. Or frown at the fading marks on his neck and shoulders. Or act superior in that aggravating way family had of finding your worst insecurities.

Hongjoong crossed his legs and took a large bite of a chunk of dried meat. “Then what is there to worry about?”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together and watched his husband chew. "My sisters will ask… what it's like to be with you."

Hongjoong grinned. "What will you tell them?"

"I'd like to tell them the truth.” He took a drink of sweet wine and looked at the burning candle instead of his husband’s face. “But I don’t think I’m ready."

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair and twirled the longer strands at the back around his finger. "Can you explain to me what makes you hesitate?"

"I'm afraid," he said very softly.

"What are you afraid of, my love?" And he looked so soft in the flickering candlelight Seonghwa could believe that he'd never hurt a fly. Seonghwa could believe that he married a good man.

He turned his head away. "It hurts."

Hongjoong’s silence made Seonghwa look up to see a pinched expression too close to pain. “My dear, sweet prince,” Hongjoong set down his bottle with a soft clink. “Do you really believe I would hurt you?”

Seonghwa didn’t believe Hongjoong would hurt him. Didn’t believe he could. “But it hurts,” he protested weakly. “Whenever I try- It burns. I don’t like pain like that.”

Hongjoong’s adam’s apple bobbed. “Whenever you try what, love?” His dark eyes threatened to swallow Seonghwa whole. “Talk to me, darling. Tell me how you touch yourself.”

Sudden dizziness made Seonghwa lean back in the chair. Probably, he was dehydrated. “I- only twice,” he admitted. “In the bath. After we were married.” He looked down at his hands accusingly. “It hurt. It was better when I had a lot of wine and… and thought about you,” he snuck a glance across the table where Hongjoong looked some confusing mix of shocked, amused, and aroused. “But it still hurt,” Seonghwa finished.

“Seonghwa, sweetheart,” his voice dripped honey and Seonghwa found it easy to pretend it never held poison or wrath. “It doesn’t have to hurt. It shouldn’t hurt. You just need patience. And oil.” He went to the drawer beside the bed and held up the small vial he used before. He squinted at it in the light and frowned. “I’ll get more while we’re at the palace.”

Seonghwa’s chest felt tight and breathing took effort. The oil felt good. So smooth and slick and dreamy. No rough friction, just an easy glide. And Seonghwa wanted. “Hongjoong?” Hongjoong looked up at him, attentive. Seonghwa stood up slowly. “Is there enough?”

"Enough for what?" His bottomless eyes drew Seonghwa in. "Tell me what you want, my darling."

Seonghwa looked down at his own hands. "I want you to touch me."

"How?" Hongjoong prompted. "Say it, or I won't do it." He meant it. Seonghwa could tell. Something dangerous and hungry in the curve of his mouth dared Seonghwa to back down.

His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. It didn't seem fair. When they both knew what he meant, why did he have to say it? "I want your fingers," he whispered after a moment.

A slow, indulgent smile spread across Hongjoong’s mouth. “There’s enough for that. Come here, beautiful.”

The few steps between them felt like a long distance. Hongjoong's hands cupped his face and his lips brushed his cheeks. "Take your shirt off for me, precious."

Seonghwa found his mouth in a heated kiss while he shrugged off his jacket and fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat. Hongjoong seemed especially slow and languid tonight, contrary to Seonghwa's intensity.

He broke the kiss with a breathless sigh to pull his shirt over his head. Hongjoong's warm hands skimmed over his skin, light and ticklish. "Don't tease," he pleaded.

Hongjoong looked at him, hands solidly around his waist. "Do you mean that?" He would stop. If Seonghwa asked him to, he would bend over backward and stop the sun from rising. Power prickled under Seonghwa’s skin, tempered by a warm feeling of safety. Nothing could hurt him in Hongjoong’s arms.

"No," Seonghwa realized with a shiver. "I want you to tease me."

“Good.” Warm hands traced patterns up and down Seonghwa’s sides. “So good for me, aren’t you?” he spoke low against the edge of Seonghwa’s jaw. “My perfect prince tells me what he wants. Tells me how to make him feel good.”

The pad of a thumb brushed over Seonghwa’s nipple and he felt like everything burst into flame. He pulled on Hongjoong’s shirt. “I want you to take your clothes off.”

Hongjoong rewarded him with sweet, teasing kisses, and pulled his shirt over his head to toss somewhere on the floor.

Seonghwa trailed his hands over Hongjoong’s toned chest and stomach. “You always tell me how beautiful I am.” He took Hongjoong’s hand and kissed each of his kunckles. “But I never tell you how beautiful you are.” He pressed Hongjoong’s hand to his neck and cupped Hongjoong’s face when he wrapped his fingers around his throat. He liked the weight of Hongjoong’s hand there. “Or how I lust for you,” he whispered.

Hongjoong stared at him with unmasked awe and desire. “Seonghwa,” he choked. But he didn’t give any other warning before he licked into Seonghwa’s mouth.

Slow, sensual kisses stole Seonghwa’s breath and filled his lungs with water. He pushed down his trousers and kicked them off his feet as he backed toward the bed. It hit the back of his legs sooner than he expected and he pulled Hongjoong down with him when he fell.

A warm hand trailed up the thin cotton still covering his thigh to wrap around the hard outline of his cock. Seonghwa whined, “Please, Captain.”

“So hard for me, darling,” Hongjoong spoke against Seonghwa’s neck where his teeth scraped another mark into the sensitive skin. “Do I make you feel good, precious?”

“Yes.” Seonghwa’s hips bucked up into Hongjoong’s hand, seeking friction. “I want you so bad.” He clung to his husband like he needed it to stay anchored to this world.

Hongjoong purred against his neck and leaned back to look Seonghwa in the eyes and rub a gentle thumb over his cheek. “You’ve got me, love. I’m right here.”

A sudden sharp knock on the door made Seonghwa clutch Hongjoong tighter, nails digging into the bare skin of his back.

“Intruder, Captain. Claims to be a princess.” San’s voice from the other side of the door never sounded so unwelcome to Seonghwa’s ears.

Hongjoong ducked his head and sighed. “What’s a princess doing sneaking onto a pirate ship?” he muttered.

The door opened and Seonghwa whined openly, scratching Hongjoong’s back as he stood up. “No,” he protested. “Let Yunho deal with it.” He arched his back seated on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide and the outline of his erection obvious in his lightweight undergarments. “Joong,” the drawn-out, audible pout sounded desperate and helpless and Seonghwa couldn’t be bothered to care.

Hongjoong didn’t acknowledge him though, the intruder had his attention. A young woman with dark hair and straight posture. She pushed past San into the room like she had every right to be there and froze when she locked eyes with Seonghwa.

“Gahyeon?” Seonghwa couldn’t fumble a pillow into his lap fast enough. “What- Why would you- What are you doing here?” Shame heated his face and he trembled with the horror of how his younger sister just saw him act so unabashedly desperate.

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, momentarily speechless. “I’m beginning to think it was a mistake.”

“Beginning to?” Seonghwa demanded, “It’s the middle of the night. You snuck through the city in the middle of the night?” A dangerous enough treck for a common girl used to the city streets, much less a princess. “And then tried to weasel your way past pirates?”

Gahyeon crossed her arms defiantly. “You married one. I thought they must not be that bad.”

Hongjoong laughed and waved to dismiss San before Seonghwa could formulate a response. “A pleasure to meet you, your Highness.” He bowed shallowly and took her hand to kiss the air over her knuckles. “I apologize I didn’t have the chance to make your acquaintance at the wedding.”

Gahyeon looked immensely pleased with herself and that made Seonghwa frown. “And I apologize for trespassing on your ship, sir.” She dipped her own little half-curtsy and grinned at Seonghwa. “I heard you docked and I couldn’t wait to see you.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes and fidgeted with the pillow in his lap. “You didn’t miss me that much.”

“Oh, but I did.” She took a few steps into the room. “Do you have any idea how boring it was without you?”

Seonghwa snorted and tried to hide his smile. “They didn’t let you near the kitchen, did they?”

Her mouth puckered into a frown. “No. They didn’t. They didn’t let me in your library. They didn’t let me in the herb garden. Sihyeon decided I’m her new project since Gaeul refuses to wear the dresses she picks out. Yoohyeon’s been babying Yujin like she’s just realized there are more of us younger than you. And all Jiu’s baby ever does is cry.” She finally took a breath. “It’s been awful since you left.”

Hongjoong laughed again. “And I’ve stolen him away from you. You must hate me.”

Gahyeon waved a hand dismissively. “We don’t hate you.” She paused. “Jiu and Yoohyeon do. But only because they think you’re cruel to Seonghwa.” She looked at Seonghwa again, then at the pillow in his lap, and his face burned. “But obviously that’s not the case.”

“No,” Hongjoong giggled. “He’s much too sweet to be treated with cruelty.”

Gahyeon smiled at Seonghwa. “I’m very happy to know you love your husband.”

Seonghwa still hadn’t recovered from his mortification enough to address the nebulous nature of his feelings for the pirate. “How did you sneak out?”

Gahyeon shrugged, kicked at Seonghwa’s trousers abandoned in the middle of the floor, and took a seat in one of the chairs. “Through the window. Same as always.”

Seonghwa scoffed again and turned his head away when Hongjoong sat lightly on the bed next to him, close enough to wrap a comfortable arm around his waist. “Jiu and her husband are still living at the palace?” Seonghwa’s brain caught up to her original update.

Gahyeon rolled her eyes and crossed her legs in the casual, unladylike way she had around the royal siblings and no one else. “The duke is absolutely daft. He thinks he’ll get to be king if you die so he’s sticking around and trying to make a good impression on father.”

A short laugh forced its way out of Seonghwa’s throat. “How close is father to kicking them out?”

“About a week by my estimate. If you hadn’t come back.” Gahyeon’s smile held that mischievous twinkle that usually meant she and Seonghwa would sneak into the kitchen for sweets or stay up all night in Seonghwa’s study reading all the terrible poetry they could find. “And Jiu is just as fed up with him.”

Seonghwa matched her smile. “She’ll try to force him on me to keep him away from father.” He looked at Hongjoong. “Darling, do you think you could have Yunho and Mingi keep my brother-in-law occupied for the duration of our stay?” The pet name was performative, but it rolled too easily off his tongue and he didn’t miss the slight twitch of Hongjoong’s fingers on his hip.

“Of course, love,” Hongjoong purred. “Only I’m wondering, if he’s really so terribly air-headed, might it be better to have Yeosang and Wooyoung keep him busy?”

Seonghwa hummed, imagining Jiu’s husband trying to win a card game with Yeosang. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

Gahyeon looked pleased and re-crossed her legs. “Perfect. There’s one annoyance dealt with.” She looked between Seonghwa and Hongjoong and sobered considerably. “I’m sure you’re aware of father’s feelings about pirates.”

“Yes.” Seonghwa tightened his grip on the pillow in his lap. “But he started this whole ordeal. He can take responsibility for the outcome.”

She took a breath. “He won’t be pleased that you’ve fallen in love.”

“I don’t know what he expected,” Seonghwa spat. “I refuse to be miserable for the rest of my life because he wants to appease a group of criminals.” He could feel Hongjoong’s gaze on the side of his face, but didn’t turn to look. “If I love my husband, that’s my business, not his.”

Hongjoong inhaled sharply, barely audible. “My darling…” he breathed.

“If I can be happy, that’s better than mother. That’s better than Jiu.” Seonghwa continued, unwilling to address the verbiage of his statement with Gahyeon in the room. He didn’t love Hongjoong. Not quite. Not yet. He could still cough out the water in his lungs, save himself from drowning. But it would drive his father mad if he pretended to be in love. “Better than Siyeon if her engagement goes through.”

Gahyeon shook her head. “It hasn’t yet. Mother’s still trying to delay it.”

Seonghwa nodded once. “Good. Maybe he’ll expire before they have a chance to arrange a wedding.”

“I hope so.” Gahyeon picked up Hongjoong’s full glass of wine and held it up with raised eyebrows to ask permission. Hongjoong waved a generous hand and she drank deeply. “You’ll never guess what he sent her last week.”

“It can’t be worse than the portrait of his shriveled testicles.” Seonghwa didn’t hide his delighted curiosity. “Did he write her a love letter?”

“Better.” Gahyeon grinned wide. “Poetry.”

“Mary, mother of God. I know you have it memorized.” Seonghwa settled against Hongjoong’s chest, ready to hear all the news and gossip he missed. “Tell me everything.”

Seonghwa sat tensely in the bumpy carriage, looking out the window at the passing hillside. They wouldn’t stay long, Hongjoong promised. Probably a week or so. Just long enough to restock the ship and maybe fit it with better cannons. Hongjoong also wanted to discuss Bang Chan’s abduction plan with the king and work out some defense.

Seonghwa would likely be brushed to the side in that negotiation, much like he had in Hongjoong’s original proposal. A twisting, heavy dread settled in his gut. But princes did not turn their backs on their fate. And princes respected both their fathers and their husbands.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong broke the uneasy silence and Seonghwa startled. Hongjoong raised a hand in apology. “You seem troubled, my dear. Will you tell me what you’re thinking about?”

Seonghwa looked out the window again. “Gahyeon was right. What she said about my father being upset if I’m in love.”

“Are you?” Hongjoong whispered, but he looked only mildly curious. Like he didn’t care one way or another.

Seonghwa took a breath. The air still outweighed the water in his lungs. “We never promised love.”

Hongjoong drummed his fingers on the tight leather seat. “We didn’t.” He smoothed his hands over his thighs and sat back against the wall of the carriage. “Don’t lie to me, Seonghwa. While we’re in your father’s palace.” His mouth drew a tight line across his tense features. “Don’t fake it. Whatever you say to me, mean it. If you touch me, do it because you want to, not to prove a point or show off.”

Seonghwa sat up straighter, afraid he offended the pirate. “I apologize if I was too performative last night. I didn’t expect my sister-”

“I don’t want your apology, Seonghwa,” he interrupted. “I want your honesty. Don’t pretend. That’s all I ask.”

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around himself. “Of course, Captain.” He bit his lip, trying and failing to read his husband’s body language. “I do not lie to you.”

Hongjoong scoffed. “Perhaps not, but you don’t tell me anything I don’t ask.”

Seonghwa didn’t have a reply, so they fell into silence again as the carriage bumped its way up the hill to the palace.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Hongjoong broke the silence again.

“Who?” Seonghwa looked at him, still reclined, still apparently careless. “Bang Chan?” he guessed.

Hongjoong made a face. “Your father.”

Seonghwa blinked. “My father doesn’t hurt me.” Not in any physical way that mattered. Not since he was a child.

Hongjoong hummed and sat forward. “Then why did you flinch?” He reached out to adjust the ruffles around Seonghwa’s collar. “The day your father summoned me to beg for a treaty.” Seonghwa thought he might fall forever in Hongjoong’s bottomless eyes. “I complimented your brooch. I touched you. You didn’t flinch.” He wrapped his fingers around Seonghwa’s neck and drummed at the skin just under his jaw. “But every time your father moved, or said anything, or breathed harshly…” He drew his hand away. “You flinched.”

“No I didn’t.” Seonghwa couldn’t fill his lungs. How did Hongjoong notice something like that? And why? “I was frightened of you.”

Hongjoong shook his head sharply. “I won’t let him abuse you, darling.”

“He doesn’t abuse me.” But his voice trembled just a little. “He has great expectations because I am to be the next king. He doesn’t raise his hand against me.” An uncomfortable laugh forced its way up his throat. “Or my mother or sisters. He’s always been kind to them. Gentle.”

Another hum. “You are not delicate, my prince. There is steel in you.” Their knees knocked together between the seats and Hongjoong tilted Seonghwa’s face with two fingers. “And yet.”

A moment passed, but he didn’t say more, so Seonghwa had to ask, “And yet?”

Hongjoong sat back and closed off. “You know I would never hurt you. Never let anyone hurt you.”

Seonghwa didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you.” The carriage slowed. A glance out the window told him they passed the palace gates.

Hongjoong took his hand, harsh and insistent. “You are precious to me. I am terribly fond of you.” He meant it and Seonghwa felt inclined to believe him. “Remember that. I won’t abandon you.”

Seonghwa couldn’t figure out what that meant before the carriage jerked to a halt and the footman opened the door. Hongjoong helped Seonghwa out of the carriage and offered his arm before they walked into the palace.

It loomed above Seonghwa, strange and unwelcoming. But a prince does not cower in fear of confrontation, so Seonghwa lifted his chin, clung to Hongjoong’s strong arm, and counted the clicks of Hongjoong’s high-heeled boots until they passed through the doorway.

Everyone stared at them, but Seonghwa felt no shame. The prince who married a pirate. Let them whisper. Let them have their idle jealousies.

Seonghwa didn’t recognize the servants, but he knew his way to the hall with its high ceilings and large portraits on the wall. The blue flags and the many narrow tables. Home.

His mother ran to him as soon as they crossed the threshold, and Seonghwa wrapped his arms around her. She felt frail, delicate in a way she hadn’t before. He couldn’t be sure if he’d become so accustomed to Hongjoong’s sturdy frame that anything else seemed weak, or if she’d lost weight since he last saw her.

“My son.” She held the back of his head. “You smell foul. You’ll want a bath as soon as possible.”

He laughed. “Of course. I’ve been looking forward to it.” He stood back with a wide smile. “There isn’t much opportunity to bathe on a ship.”

The queen turned her attention to Hongjoong. “You have no baths on your ship?”

The corners of his mouth ticked up into a smile. “I’ll have one installed, your Majesty.” He bowed with most of the proper respect.

She nodded importantly and fixed Seonghwa’s hair. “My son tells me you’re kind to him.”

Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa in mild surprise. “He is the only one to accuse me of kindness, Majesty.”

“He is very kind to me,” Seonghwa said. Their knuckles brushed in the narrow space between their bodies, but Hongjoong lifted his hand to straighten the silk around his neck before Seonghwa could hold it.

“Still less than he deserves.” Hongjoong bowed his head to the queen and walked past her to where the king waited. “My crew will help your men restock my ship,” he said with a generous sweep of his arm.

The king sneered and Seonghwa took an involuntary step toward his mother. “Of course.”

Hongjoong shifted his weight onto one leg and counted off on his fingers. “I’ll want a dozen additional barrels of water, two or three bottles of sweet red wine, a bathtub - as large as you can manage, no splinters - two jars of coconut oil--” he cut himself off to look back at Seonghwa. “Better make that three.” A salacious smile. “And all the ammunition you can spare.”

The king turned his attention to Seonghwa, who bowed. “We are very grateful for your generosity-”

“We?” The king demanded. Seonghwa flinched, head still bowed. “Are you a pirate, or are you my son?”

Seonghwa lifted his head with an exhale through his teeth. “I am a prince, father. I speak on behalf of my husband’s gratitude.” Seonghwa stepped forward to join Hongjoong, and almost took his arm, but curled his fingers and held his fist against his chest at the last moment. “I’m glad to see you again,” he lied. “It’s been a long few months at sea.”

The king frowned. “I’ve heard nasty rumors about you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa winced. “I’m sure they’re exaggerated.”

“I certainly hope so.” The king crossed his arms. “No son of mine would cut off the ear of a foreign diplomat because he coveted a pair of earrings.”

Seonghwa turned his head away with a sharp exhale through his teeth. That would haunt him wherever he went. He could still see red blood running through the ambassador’s fingers as he clutched the side of his head.

Hongjoong took a half step forward and tilted his head to the side. “Ah. The oafish ambassador who insulted my sweet prince.” He tucked a strand of Seonghwa’s hair behind his ear and tapped the diamond earring hanging there to make it sway. “I cut his ear off, Majesty. Would have cut his tongue out too if my Seonghwa didn’t stop me.”

“My son stopped you?” The king narrowed his eyes.

“My husband dislikes violence without a cause,” Hongjoong purred, hand settling heavy on Seonghwa’s shoulder.

The king's upper lip twitched. “My son has always had a weak stomach.”

As if Seonghwa weren’t even there. As if he were just some trophy to be fought over by selfish children. Mine.

Seonghwa pushed Hongjoong’s hand off his shoulder. “Since I am clearly not needed for this discussion, I bid you both good day.” He bowed shallowly and turned to his mother. “Where are my sisters? I’d like to speak to Yujin.”

Yujin sat quietly in the old study, repurposed as an art studio. Watercolor paintings and embroideries covered the walls, bringing waves of nostalgia up Seonghwa’s throat. A few small paintings he’d done as a child peeked between the larger and better artwork.

Yujin looked up from her calligraphy when Seonghwa rapped on the doorframe. “Hwa,” she smiled so her eyes scrunched and it warmed Seonghwa’s heart. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

He wrapped her in a gentle hug. Gahyeon, he always hugged tightly. Yoohyeon, Sihyeon, and Jiu he hugged solidly. He always picked Gaeul up just because he could. But he never fully closed his arms around Yujin, careful not to cage her in.

“I brought you something,” he said, and brushed a fond thumb over her cheek. “Only you, so don’t tell the others.”

“Only me?” She leaned back against the edge of the desk, genuinely surprised. “But I’m not your favorite.”

Seonghwa pulled a velvet bag from his pocket and dropped it into her outstretched hand. “I don’t have a favorite,” he insisted. “But I needed to give these to you.”

Yujin held up the stolen pearl earrings and looked at Seonghwa in confusion.

“I know they’re not very extravagant and they’re a little bigger than you usually wear.” Seonghwa took one from her and fitted it into her ear. “But I’m setting something right.” He repeated the action with the other earring. “Balance. Justice. Or something.”

Yujin caught his hand. “It’s true then.” She looked somewhere between awed and pained. “What they’re saying.” She touched the earring in her ear. “You cut off the Ambassador’s ear.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Hongjoong cut it off, but I asked him to,” he admitted.

“Why?” she asked.

A lump in Seonghwa’s throat made it hard to speak. “Pearls are for innocence.”

Yujin looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. She touched his hand again. “Mama says we should leave vengeance to God.” She tilted her head contemplatively. “Maybe Captain Hongjoong does God’s work.”

Seonghwa smiled thinly. “He does what he can.”

She rolled the pearl between her fingers, then wrapped her arms around Seonghwa’s neck. “Thank you.”

He held her lightly, glad to have her near and well and knowing that the earrings meant nothing, fixed nothing. But he still felt a sense of balance. Innocence returned. Justice.

Yujin stood back. “So is the rest of it true too?” she wondered, curious. “Are there leagues of pirates after you because they’re jealous you stole the heart of the most fearsome man on the seas?”

Seonghwa laughed. “As far as I know, only one pirate crew is after me, and the reason has more to do with money and power than anything so romantic as jealousy.” She looked a little disappointed, so Seonghwa patted her cheek. “Pirates are really terrible at being romantic.”

Except that it was just a little romantic the way Hongjoong said he would slay anyone who laid a finger on Seongwa. And if Seonghwa was honest, he took Hongjoong at his word and didn’t bother to feel frightened of Bang Chan.

Chapter Text

Seonghwa set down a bag of clothes on the old overstuffed chair in his bedroom and looked around. Everything just as he left it; the fat armoire with a long mirror on one door, the two green velvet chairs with a small table between as if he might have company, the large bed with silver tassels hanging from the canopy and thick curtains drawn back to reveal the duvet.

“Where is Maddox?” he wondered aloud. “I haven’t seen him since I arrived.” Maddox’s absence concerned him more than it should have. He’d been on a pirate ship for months without any servants and he got along just fine. It felt entitled to be so anxious about having one now when he and Gahyeon were perfectly capable of carrying his stolen wardrobe from the central courtyard where the carriage unloaded.

Gahyeon dropped her armload of pirated jackets on the other chair. “Maddox,” she repeated, trying to place the name.

“My attendant,” Seonghwa supplied. “I need a bath before dinner.” And Maddox knew how he liked his baths. Not that no one else would be capable of drawing a bath the way he liked. And again, he felt spoiled. “I’ll use the natural baths. Tell the steward to close them off for me. I want privacy.” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Mother said I smell.”

Gahyeon wrinkled her nose. “I wasn’t going to say anything…”

Seonghwa shoved her playfully and stepped out of his bedroom. “Do you think my husband’s still arguing with father?”

“Probably,” Gahyeon walked ahead of him down the hall. “I listened outside the door for a little while.” She gave him a nod over her shoulder. “Your pirate might just out-stubborn him.”

That brought a smile to Seonghwa’s face. “My pirate is exceedingly clever.” He paused in front of the heavy door to the natural baths. “And I would like a moment with him. To resume what you so gracelessly interrupted.”

Gahyeon pursed her lips. “I apologize.”

“I will never forgive you,” Seonghwa deadpanned, then cracked a smile at Gahyeon’s dramatic gasp of protest. “If you see Maddox, send him to me.” He opened the door. “And if you see Hongjoong, tell him I’d like him to join me in the bath.”

Why not? They wouldn’t have time for anything before dinner, but it would keep Hongjoong occupied and not warring with the king. Besides, Hongjoong didn’t exactly smell like roses either.

Steam welcomed him like a lover and he untied his neck scarf with a sigh of relief. He didn’t recognize the bath attendant standing on the other side of the largest pool of water. “Hello.” He slid his jacket off his arms and folded it over one of the stone benches. “Have you seen Maddox around?”

The attendant looked at him with a great deal of confusion, startled to be addressed at all. “Who?”

Seonghwa unbuttoned his vest. “Maddox. My personal attendant.” His absence bothered Seonghwa. He hadn’t spent a day in this palace without Maddox following four steps behind since his adolescence. “He must be on leave.” Seonghwa folded his waistcoat over his jacket on the bench. “What’s your name?” he asked the attendant.

“My name?” He looked shocked, and maybe afraid.

Seonghwa frowned. “Yes. What can I call you?” He must be new. Or perhaps he worked under the king before. Seonghwa’s father couldn’t be bothered to remember the staff’s names. But Seonghwa liked to know who he was talking to. And the servants overheard everything, so the best gossip came from the chamberlains and courtiers.

The attendant hovered at the edge of the pool as if he didn’t know if he should approach Seonghwa or not. “You can call me I.N.”

A strange apprehension slowed Seonghwa’s hands as he sat to unlace his boots. Why not give his full name? Why hide his identity? Why did he look so jumpy? “Thank you, I.N.” He set his boots and socks to the side. “I’ll use the middle pool.” Usually the warmest, a nice medium size, and open instead of against a wall. “Lilac oil, rose petals, and the richest soap you have on hand. The sea dries my skin out like nothing else.”

I.N. stood still for a moment, blinking.

Seonghwa pulled his shirt over his head and wondered if maybe he’d overreacted and I.N. was just slow. “Please prepare the middle pool,” he repeated, slower and clearer. “I’d like lilac oil and rose petals in the water.” He folded his shirt. “And the fattiest soap you have to wash with.”

I.N. leaped clumsily into action, riffling through the shelf of oils and ointments, and dumping an obscene amount of rose petals into the water. The scent of lilac burned Seonghwa’s nose and he wondered who allowed this man to attend the baths. And how soon someone could send word to Maddox and bring him back.

He folded his trousers on top of his pile of clothes and watched I.N. stir the natural hot spring with the wrong end of the pole. “I’m sure that will be fine,” he said with an encouraging smile.

The poor attendant stared while Seonghwa removed his undergarments.

“The soap, please,” he prompted patiently.

I.N. turned away to find the soap and Seonghwa slipped into the blissfully warm water. The deep pool reached the top of his shoulders when he stood on flat feet, and the heat of the earth soothed aches he didn’t realize he had. But I.N. must have used the entire bottle of lilac oil because it made Seonghwa’s head spin. So thick on the steam, he could taste it. But the water felt nice and there were worse things.

A bar of soap and a fluffy rag landed next to Seonghwa at the edge of the pool. “Thank you, I.N.” he said. “Would you mind sending someone to fetch my husband?” The more he thought about it, the more he wanted Hongjoong here. To discuss the things he shouldn’t do or say in the presence of the royal family. To clean himself up too.

“Your pirate husband?” I.N. challenged, standing tall above Seonghwa. Threatening.

Uncertainty drove a sharp cold through Seonghwa’s body despite the warm water, but he didn’t have time to speak before I.N. pushed his head underwater.

Lilac oil burned his eyes and he shut them tightly. He thrashed and fought, but the hand tangled through his wet hair wouldn’t let up. San couldn’t save him this time. Hongjoong wouldn’t appear with a knife. Seonghwa’s lungs burned. He pitched himself forward hard enough to throw I.N. off balance and into the water.

Gasping, stinging eyes watering, Seonghwa tried to push himself out of the pool but I.N. caught him and pushed him back under, apparently keen on assassination. Panic flooded Seonghwa’s system, but no matter how much he kicked and jabbed his elbows into soft flesh, strong hands held him underwater.

Images flashed through his mind in the lucidness of the moment before death.

Hongjoong. His husband, who called him ‘love’ and ‘darling’ and ‘mine’. Who treated him with kindness. Who protected him. Who listened. Who stole pretty things from undeserving people to give Seonghwa as gifts. What did Seonghwa ever do to thank him? What could Seonghwa ever do to thank him?

He realized with sharp clarity that Hongjoong’s kindness wouldn’t be enough. Seonghwa yearned for love. He might love Hongjoong given enough time and enough opportunity. But would it ever be reciprocated? Was a pirate capable of love?

All at once, he stopped fighting. Lightheaded, lungs burning, cursing his own stupidity, he went limp.

I.N. loosened his grip, and Seonghwa seized the opportunity. Choking up toxic lilac water, he pushed I.N. against the wall of the pool and tried to climb over him onto the stone. Call for help. Escape the danger. But I.N. threw his head back and hit Seonghwa hard in the mouth. The sharp taste of blood cut the stinging lilac and Seonghwa spat as he wrestled his assassin in the water.

He clawed at I.N.’s face to keep him at a distance, struggling to stay on his feet, keep his head above the water. A sharp, reactionary jerk of Seonghwa’s arm hit I.N.’s head against the stone edge of the pool, which slowed him. Still coughing water, spitting blood, and blinking stinging tears from his eyes, Seonghwa repeated the action intentionally, and I.N. went limp with red blooming around his head in the water.

Seonghwa dragged him out of the pool and laid him on his back, still shuddering and coughing and trying to fill his lungs with air. The assassin twitched and Seonghwa jolted away, scooting wet across the tiled floor.

When he caught his breath and recovered from the worst of the panic of attempted murder, he crawled back to the body and checked the pulse. I.N. was alive. The wound on his head was really more of a scrape than anything and would heal. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. Seonghwa was no murderer. Not even in self-defense.

The door opened with no warning and Hongjoong’s high-heeled boots clicked on the tile.

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa’s voice sounded raw and choked. Tears from the stinging lilac blurred his vision.

Hongjoong froze at the opposite edge of the pool. “My darling.” Dangerously quiet. Lethal. “I leave you alone for half a day and already they’re trying to kill you.”

Seonghwa couldn’t respond, so he pushed himself to his feet and stepped away from the body as Hongjoong crossed around the pool. He swayed a little. His throat burned and his eyes stung and his hands trembled.

“Gahyeon didn’t tell me it was urgent. I would have been here sooner,” Hongjoong apologized, kneeling over the body and poking at it.

“I didn’t think-” Seonghwa’s hoarse voice broke. He could have died. And then what? What would happen to the kingdom? What would happen to Hongjoong? And his crew? And why did Seonghwa care so much about Hongjoong and his crew?

Hongjoong’s arms around him felt strong and reassuring. “Hush, love. It’s alright. I’m here now.” He held Seonghwa’s head in the curve of his neck and pet his hair soothingly. “I’ll never leave your side again. You’re safe now, I’ve got you.”

Seonghwa lifted his head. “I’m drowning.” His lungs were filling with water. He could no longer cough it all up. He passed the tipping point. Falling in love. He didn’t know if he could slow down and he didn’t know how long it would be before he hit the bottom of that fall. “Hongjoong, I’m drowning.”

“No, love. No you’re not.” Hongjoong cupped the sides of his face. “I won’t let you drown.”

They would be late to dinner if they stayed here like this. But Seonghwa couldn’t force himself to move, could only cling to the pirate like a lifeline. He opened his mouth to confess, to tell Hongjoong how he’d been the only thought in Seonghwa’s head when he thought he was dying. “I’m drowning,” he whispered, still hoarse. “Hold me, I’m drowning.”

Gahyeon turned up her nose when Seonghwa took his seat between her and Yoohyeon. His older sisters on his left nearer the king and queen, his younger sisters on his right. Just as it always had been. Only now, pirates filled the other side of the table instead of prominent nobility.

“Did you crush up every flower in the garden into a salve and paint it on your skin?” Gahyeon hissed as Seonghwa scooted his chair in.

“No,” he whispered back. “I almost died. Any news on Maddox?”

Gahyeon shook her head, but the king spoke loudly, commanding attention. “I’m so glad you deigned to join us, my son.”

Seonghwa took a breath. “I apologize for our tardiness, father-”

“We had to take care of the assassin,” Hongjoong interrupted, flicking his nails before he picked up the wrong fork with too much defiant confidence for it to be an accident. “Nasty business, politics.” He tilted his head with a smirk.

“Assassin?” The queen repeated in motherly panic. “Seonghwa, are you alright?”

“Yes.” He smoothed his napkin on his lap. “I’m just fine.” Not a lie, because he wasn’t dead and wouldn’t have any lasting scars.

Yoohyeon took his hand under the table, eyes wide. “I told everyone playing with pirates was a bad idea,” she said under her breath, always protective of her younger brother. “Lord have mercy, Hwa. If they kill you…” But she didn’t finish the threat.

“You brought this problem here, Captain,” the king emphasized the title like an accusation. “You can eliminate it.”

“Oh, I plan to.” Hongjoong cut into a large slab of meat, unfazed. “I don’t expect your silly soldiers to do anything to help.”

The king bristled and Seonghwa winced in sync with all his sisters. Yoohyeon squeezed his hand under the table. “Does he have a death wish?” she breathed.

“My pirate would win in a fight,” he whispered back. He didn’t think he’d like to see that fight, but he felt sure Hongjoong would win.

The other pirates wolfed down their food. Wooyoung and San made no attempt at table manners and ate with their fingers, oblivious to the tension. Yeosang and Jongho used forks, but eyed everyone warily as if the food might be taken from them at any moment. Mingi and Yunho used the correct forks and displayed good etiquette, but Mingi frowned at his plate, still wearing his hat, and Yunho seemed to be involved in some sort of staring contest with Gahyeon.

The king wiped his mouth with his napkin and looked like he intended to say something nasty, but the queen spoke first. “Seonghwa, have you seen the baby? He’s grown so much since you left.”

Jiu jumped in on the pleasant change of topic. “Yes! I’m sure he misses you, Hwa.” She smiled her darling princess smile. “He’s even started to talk.”

Siyeon exhaled sharply. “Just ‘mama’ ‘dada’ kind of babbling.” She looked across Yoohyeon at Seonghwa. “It’s not really that impressive when you take into account some birds can learn to speak.”

Wooyoung’s head popped up from his plate, sauce dripping down his chin. “Fix can talk. Mingi’s parrot can talk.”

“You have a talking bird?” Gahyeon sounded absolutely outraged that Seonghwa neglected to tell her that, and elbowed him hard in the ribs to prove her point.

“It’s a demon,” Seonghwa protested. “It’s unnatural and I hate it.” When Gahyeon still looked aghast, he added, “And all it does is curse anyway.”

Wooyoung shook his head and wiped his chin on the back of his arm. “No, Fix knows a lot of words. Mingi trained him,” he told Siyeon importantly. “He can do a lookout and if he says ‘ahoy’ there’s a ship close, but if he says ‘shit’ there’s no one else near.”

Yeosang elbowed him in the ribs. “Shit’s a curse, stupid.”

“Shit’s not a curse.” Wooyoung looked around, brow wrinkled in confusion. “Shit’s a curse?”

San shoved him into Yeosang, who knocked over a plate of buttered bread. “God’s sake, stop saying it, you idiot.”

“You can’t say ‘God'. That’s worse.” Wooyoung shoved him back, and San grabbed the tablecloth for balance, which pulled his entire plate onto the floor along with two glasses of wine and the gravy boat.

San stood and dusted himself off. “Now you’ve gone and made a fucking mess of the fancy dinner with the king.”

“I made a mess?” Wooyoung stood quickly and his chair scraped the floor. “You pulled half the table down.”

Seonghwa could only look on in mute horror, but Hongjoong continued eating with a high giggle. The king looked a little red in the face, and the queen prayed silently with a hand over her heart.

“Do they do this often?” Gahyeon asked in quiet wonder.

Seonghwa took a drink. “Yes. They don’t mean any of it. They’ll be best friends again in a few minutes.”

Yoohyeon placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. “Poor baby. It must have been awful out there on that ship.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “No, this is tame. They’re really trying to be on their best behavior.”

“That’s enough.” Hongjoong set down his glass with a thump after San dumped a flute of champagne over Wooyoung’s head. “Sit down and be polite. You can help clean up after dinner.”

They both bowed their heads with a meek, “Yessir.”

The king looked some mixture of appalled and impressed. “Savages,” he said.

The queen regarded Hongjoong with cool apprehension as he followed Seonghwa into the dimly lit study. “Captain,” she greeted him. “We have much to discuss.”

Hongjoong sat heavily in the chair across the narrow writing desk. “Regarding my beloved?”

Seonghwa started to sit on the plush love seat in the corner of the room, but his mother waved him closer, speaking in a hushed nervousness uncharacteristic of her usual infailable poise. “I won’t mince words. I have my spies and they all tell me the same thing.” Seonghwa tugged a stool up to the side of the table and the queen grasped his hand. “My son is in danger.”

“Tell me what you know.” Hongjoong leaned forward.

The queen wet her lips and looked at Seonghwa with her eyebrows drawn up to wrinkle the center of her forehead. “My husband is not the only one to employ pirates. You may be the first privateers, Captain, but you are far from the only ones.” She pushed a folded parchment across the table. “Names of all the pirates under the employ of kings.”

Hongjoong unfolded the paper and scanned the list with a tight frown. “Bang Chan,” he confirmed.

“My spies tell me there’s a great reward for Seonghwa’s capture.” The queen squeezed Seonghwa’s hand. “A number of countries realize the power they would hold over my husband and over you if they held Seonghwa hostage.”

Hongjoong hummed, still reading the list of names. “They assume I would pay a ransom for him.”

Seonghwa drew a sharp breath. Wouldn’t he pay a ransom? Wouldn’t he want Seonghwa back? If not as a husband than as a bargaining chip? And Seonghwa shouldn’t fool himself to think that he could be more than a power move, a political token, and a trophy. “You wouldn’t pay ransom for me?” he asked anyway.

Hongjoong scoffed. “Of course I wouldn’t pay ransom for you. Don’t be silly, sweetheart.”

A shard of ice lodged itself in Seonghwa’s chest, but Hongjoong met his eyes over the top of the paper and Seonghwa felt swallowed by their endless darkness.

“Anyone who took you from my side would die such horrific deaths, the angels wouldn’t dare to watch.”

The ice melted to something warm and sticky in Seonghwa’s chest. “Which king employed Bang Chan?” he asked his mother.

“The Yellow King,” she said with distaste. So named for his yellow flag, the jaundice in his eyes, and the yellow-bellied way he hid behind his soldiers and enforcers.

Hongjoong folded the paper slowly. “Bang Chan doesn’t respect him. No amount of money would buy his loyalty without respect.”

“What does that mean?” Seonghwa asked. “He’ll betray the Yellow King?”

The drum of Hongjoong’s fingers on the table added a layer of tension to the air. “He’ll use the Yellow King’s resources, but he wants you for his own gain.”

“Seonghwa is the trump card,” the queen realized. “Whoever controls Seonghwa controls the Five Kingdoms and the seas.”

A smile pulled up the corners of Hongjoong’s mouth. “Seonghwa controls the Five Kingdoms, but I rule the seas.”

“I don’t understand.” Seonghwa pulled his hand away from his mother. “I’m only a prince. How do I control five kingdoms?”

His mother forced a pinched smile. “You are the only male heir under the blue flag. If you fall, a power grab will bring the kingdom to ruin.” Seonghwa understood that much, but he didn’t see how that affected the other countries.

“You’re aware of supply chains?” Hongjoong tapped the table. “Let’s say the ambassador under the red flag offended you. They import nearly all their grain. You tell me to disrupt their supply ships. They starve.” He glanced at the queen. “They send an armada to take us down, but I hold a gun to your pretty head.” He touched the corner of Seonghwa’s jaw. “They don’t want a full-out war with your father because they know your father’s army is unmatched. So they don’t make a move.” His thumb stroked the edge of Seonghwa’s jaw. “You’re untouchable.”

“But on land…” Understanding crashed over Seonghwa like a wave against the rocks. “If they can’t control me, they need me dead. As long as I’m on land, I’m vulnerable.”

His mother took his hand again and squeezed it. “They’re here. In the palace,” she told Hongjoong. “I didn’t know in time to stop the staff changes. That’s not my area of control.” She passed him another list of names. “I don’t know how many and I don’t know who they’re affiliated with, but that’s every new hire since the wedding.”

Hongjoong grunted his thanks. Seonghwa turned to his mother. “Where is Maddox?”

She frowned. “I haven’t seen him in a few weeks.” She patted his hand comfortingly. “I wouldn’t know if he asked for a leave to travel or see his family. We can ask the steward.”

Apprehension thickened the air. Something felt wrong and it prickled over the gooseflesh on Seonghwa’s arms. “I’d like to retire. It’s been a long day.” He stood and touched Hongjoong’s shoulder lightly.

Hongjoong caught the hand and brought it to his lips. “Stay alert. I’ll join you in a moment.”

The queen nodded, so Seonghwa bid her goodnight and wondered why the darkened corridors that once felt so warm and welcoming now felt strange and uneasy.

Seonghwa slid between the cool sheets of his bed and sighed as the soft mattress enveloped him. He realized he missed the comfort of a real bed. “You should get a better mattress for your ship,” he told Hongjoong as he crawled in beside him.

“Why?” Hongjoong seemed a little tense. Whatever he discussed with the queen left his shoulders stiff and put a rigid chill in his voice.

“Because your mattress is lumpy and smells like mildew.” Seonghwa propped himself up on his elbow to look up at Hongjoong still sitting straight. “It’s awful for my back.” He tried to make light of the situation. He couldn’t stare death in the eye without looking away. And nothing could hurt him while Hongjoong was near anyway.

A knife flashed in his hand as he twirled it. “You plan to return to sea with me?”

Seonghwa blinked. “Yes.” He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. “I thought- I mean if you don’t want me, then I’ll stay.” Honestly, he didn’t want to stay in the palace with his father breathing down his neck and every minute inconvenience blown out of proportion. “It would be safer, wouldn’t it? After this threat passes.” he reasoned. “For me to stay here. Less troublesome.” A sinking feeling filled his gut. The water in his lungs weighed him down. “I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Hongjoong clicked his tongue and stood up to pace with the restless energy he got before a fight. “You are not a burden to me.”

“But you want me to stay here?” It hurt somewhere deep and nameless. It felt like rejection. “It’s because I haven’t let you fuck me,” he realized. “Do it. Do it now.” He extended his legs and fumbled with the buttons of his nightshirt. “I won’t stop you. I trust you enough. Just please be gentle-”

“Seonghwa.” Sharp and biting, it froze Seonghwa’s fingers on his third button. Hongjoong looked dangerous, eyes narrowed, lips curled in a scowl. “Stop.”

He dropped his hands, cold fear he hadn’t felt in a while poured through his chest. “Stop what?”

“Putting words in my mouth. Believing things I never said.” Hongjoong threw the knife. It stuck deep in the side of the armoire and Seonhwa flinched heavily.

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t fucking want your apologies.” Volatile, Hongjoong pulled the knife from the wood and examined the blade. He took a breath. “I never fucking want your apologies. Stop apologizing.” But it lost some of its bite and sounded tired more than angry.

Seonghwa pressed his lips together to keep from apologizing again. “Have I done something to displease you?” Hongjoong cursed as much as any other sailor, but rarely did he aim those curses at Seonghwa. Only in intimacy, but that felt different. Seonghwa’s chest squeezed around the heavy water in his lungs.

Hongjoong sat heavily on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair. “No. You couldn’t displease me.”

“What did my mother say to you?” Seonghwa asked in a hushed tone, almost afraid to know. “Is it worse than I know? Did you come up with a plan?”

Another heavy sigh, and Hongjoong’s dark, bottomless eyes met his. “We did decide on a plan.” He bounced a fist on the mattress. “But the less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

Seonghwa didn’t want to know the ugly details. But he did want reassurance. He wanted to feel safe. And the safest place had always been Hongjoong’s arms. “Please don’t leave me,” Seonghwa whispered. “Please, Captain.”

Hongjoong crawled up the bed to sit against the pillows next to Seonghwa, not quite close enough to feel body heat. “I promised you I wouldn’t abandon you.”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, conflicted and upset. “I’m so sick of being frightened.” He buttoned his shirt back up and looked away. “Please, Captain, if you would? Tell me the ways you’re fond of me.” He needed soft intimacy. And Hongjoong had given it before, so why not ask? No harm in asking.

“I didn’t mean to be short with you, my darling.” But his voice still sounded tight. The bed dipped beside him as Hongjoong scooted closer and pulled Seonghwa to his chest, threaded his fingers through his hair, and spoke low and sweet. “I’m fond of the way you whisper gossip with your sisters.”

Seonghwa scoffed, but leaned into the soothing touch.

“I’m fond of the petulant pout on your face when your father talks.” A soft kiss to the top of his head. “Makes me want to kiss you.”

“Why don’t you?” Seonghwa wondered, closing his eyes.

A low giggle. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate such a public display of affection.” He leaned down to press a soft kiss to Seonghwa’s mouth. “I didn’t want to overstep your boundaries. I thought it would make you uncomfortable.”

Seonghwa sighed. “It would, I suppose,” he reasoned. “But I’d like you to hold my hand sometimes.”

He could feel Hongjoong’s smile against his forehead. “Oh, yeah?”

Seonghwa hummed contentedly and wrapped himself around Hongjoong, worn out and fighting sleep. This felt easy. With Hongjoong’s private kindness to soothe the aches away.

“I can do that, love.” The whisper of another kiss. “Sleep well, my sweet prince.”

“Goodnight, my pirate,” Seonghwa mumbled against his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Seonghwa blamed Gahyeon for his morning wood. And maybe that wasn't totally fair, but Seonghwa blamed her anyway. Because if she hadn't interrupted on the ship, he wouldn't be so pent up.

Hongjoong slept soundly with his arm slung over Seonghwa's chest, cheek squished into the pillow, and mouth pouted around slow steady breaths.

Seonghwa wriggled his way closer and hooked his leg over Hongjoong's thighs. The sunrise cast weak light through the sheer curtains and Seonghwa felt bold. Being in his own room in his palace, having survived an assassination attempt and three months at sea gave him courage. And wouldn't his father hate it if they missed breakfast?

That particular thought of defiance made Seonghwa kiss Hongjoong's cheek and roll his hips slowly against his thigh. The friction felt good and Hongjoong didn't stir, so Seonghwa held onto his arm and continued the motion.

Hongjoong didn't react at all while soft sighs and high whines escaped Seonghwa's lips and he rutted against his solid thigh.

Only when Seonghwa whispered a needy, "Captain," did he inhale sharply, grab the side of Seonghwa's face, and open his eyes.

He blinked twice, slow, then a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, darling, I'm not dreaming am I?"

"No," Seonghwa slid his hand down Hongjoong's back to cup his ass. "Kiss me?" Hot arousal coiled in his gut and he’d made it halfway to desperate before Hongjoong woke up.

Hongjoong turned onto his side and pulled Seonghwa's leg higher on his hip to align them. Soft and sleepy kisses, a little clumsy, melted Seonghwa.

"Touch me," he mumbled between kisses, pulling Hongjoong's nightshirt up to spread his hands over the tight muscles in his chest and abdomen. "Take off your clothes."

Hongjoong giggled and leaned back enough for Seonghwa to pull his shirt over his head. "Aren't we expected at breakfast?"

Seonghwa made a noise of complaint and tugged on Hongjoong's sleep pants. "It's Gahyeon's fault. She interrupted." He pressed his thumbs into the flesh over Hongjoong’s hip bones, which earned him a small gasp. “I don’t want to go to breakfast. Just want you.” He knew anyone else would call his pout dramatic and pitiful, but Hongjoong kissed him.

“Oh, my darling, You’ve got me, I’m here.” He pulled Seonghwa’s hands from his hips and held them against his chest. "But is that a good enough excuse for the king?" He kicked his pants off and helped Seonghwa out of his.

"It’s his fault too." Seonghwa pulled his own shirt over his head. "If he didn't want me to sleep with a pirate, he shouldn't have married me off to one."

Another giggle. "What's gotten into you?"

Seonghwa took his hand and held it between them. "I want your fingers, Captain."

Hongjoong blinked at him in unguarded surprise. "Fuck, Seonghwa that’s- Are you sure?"

"Yes." Seonghwa's heart raced and he needed to do this now before he lost his conviction.

Hongjoong pushed himself up and found a jar of coconut oil on the floor beside the bed. "You don't have to do this." He unscrewed the lid with a glance at Seonghwa. "I don't expect you to want this." He looked uncertain, skeptical. "You have a choice, love, I'm sorry if I've pressured you."

Seonghwa shook his head. “You haven’t pressured me." He dipped his hand in the oil and wrapped it around himself with a light sigh at the slight relief. "I'm sure about this, but you don't have to if you don't want to." He just needed something. Even just to keep rutting against Hongjoong’s thigh with the sound of his short breaths and muttered curses to thicken the air.

"Oh, darling, I want to," Hongjoong rushed to say. "I want to ruin you for anyone else. I want to watch you fall apart on my fingers and hear you cry my name like you love me."

He replaced the hand around Seonghwa's length before Seonghwa had time to fully process the words. He moaned low and held onto Hongjoong's arms. "Captain," he sighed, "Spoil me? You said- We don't have anything to do today, so please-" He caught a short breath. "Please? Spoil me?"

Hongjoong pulled him into his lap and coated his fingers with oil before he screwed the lid back on and tossed the jar away. "My precious darling." A kiss that pooled liquid heat in Seonghwa's gut. "You're going to drive me out of my fucking mind."

He pumped Seonghwa slowly, not tight enough, teasing. His mouth trailed down the side of Seonghwa's neck to nip light marks over his collarbone. The warm slickness of his fingers glided down the cleft of Seonghwa’s ass and made him shiver.

He didn't notice the first fingertip push into him because Hongjoong licked delicately over his sensitive nipple. When he did notice, it still felt strange, but everything else felt good enough that Seonghwa didn't mind.

"So good for me, love," Hongjoong exhaled sharply. "So nice, beautiful, you feel so nice."

The fingertip wiggled a little, teasing, pressing circles and inching deeper in barely perceptible intervals. His hand slowed on Seonghwa's dick, drawing a heavy sigh from Seonghwa’s chest.

"Talk to me, Hwa," Hongjoong prompted. "Tell me how you're feeling."

Seonghwa's hands skidded restlessly over Hongjoong's shoulders and upper arms. "Strange," he gasped. "It's just… odd."

Hongjoong hummed and kissed his mouth sweetly. "Tell me if it hurts, honey. Tell me if it's bad."

"Mhmm," Seonghwa agreed. He dropped his head into the curve of Hongjoong's shoulder, much more interested in the hand still absently stroking his dick than the finger in his ass. He realized it somehow made it to the last knuckle and Hongjoong twisted it shallowly in and out in a way that took Seonghwa's breath if he focused on it.

The hand around his dick stalled and Seonghwa bucked his hips forward into it, but that also pushed him back against Hongjoong's finger and sent a tremor down his spine.

"Hongjoong," he gasped. "Give me more."

A soft giggle. "Greedy," he sighed fondly. But the hand around his dick didn't tighten like Seonghwa expected. Another finger pressed slowly beside the first.

Seonghwa’s nails dug into Hongjoong’s skin and he arched against the burning stretch. “Wait, wait,” he gasped, “It hurts.”

The fingers stilled and Hongjoong kissed his lips “Alright, precious. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” The pain abated in sweet kisses and teasing touches and ticklish whispers. “Relax, love. Let me make you feel good. There you go. Easy, beautiful, just like that.”

Seonghwa reached down to guide Hongjoong’s hand up and down his length. “Feels good,” he spoke against Hongjoong’s skin. “I like the oil.” It smelled nice and made everything feel a little dreamy.

Hongjoong hummed. “That’s right.” He reached around Seonghwa to find the jar again and all at once his fingers slipped out of Seonghwa’s ass, leaving him cold and empty, and that felt even stranger. He made a noise of complaint, and Hongjoong hushed him. The fingers pressed in again, deeper than before, or perhaps Seonghwa’s perception just changed with all his focus on it. But the wet slide made him sigh.

And really, when he focused on it, it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt sort of nice. He didn’t really care for the wet sound of the two fingers pushing slowly in and out, scissoring, pressing against his walls. But the feeling was pleasant.

“It’s not bad,” he told Hongjoong. “It doesn’t hurt.” He didn’t quite see the allure. Hongjoong's mouth on his dick felt so much better than this, and he didn’t really think the volume of a cock versus two fingers would make much of a difference in the overall feeling of it.

Hongjoong giggled. “Good.” He shifted his arm and reached a little deeper. “I’ll have to settle for ‘not bad’.”

Seonghwa considered reaching between them to touch himself, but he didn’t want to offend Hongjoong if he thought this was supposed to do something for him. But he should express that, shouldn’t he? He promised absolute honesty.

A sudden blinding pleasure shook his entire body and he dug his fingernails into Hongjoong’s shoulders. “Fuck,” he gasped, blinking rapidly as the world came back into focus around him. “What the- What was that?” he demanded weakly.

Hongjoong smiled triumphantly. “I assume it was your prostate, darling.”

His fingers pressed a certain way and a high moan tore from Seonghwa’s throat unbidden. “Fuck,” he repeated, breathing hard, brain feeling mushy.

Hongjoong giggled deviously. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.”

“I don’t curse,” Seonghwa insisted.

Hongjoong pressed his fingers again and a full-body shiver pushed him back further onto his fingers and made his perception of reality narrow to the amused and adoring smile on his husband’s face. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped.

Hongjoong giggled again, loud and uninhibited. “How close are you, sweetheart?” He left a wet kiss on Seonghwa’s cheek. “I could play with you all day, but I don’t want to overdo it.”

Seonghwa took a few unsteady breaths, the pads of Hongjoong’s fingers hovering just over the place that whited out his vision in breathtaking euphoria. “I- I don’t know.” His hips pushed back against Hongjoong’s fingers without his permission and he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to stop the desperate noise caught in his throat. “I’m- fuck, I think- I think I’m close.”

Hongjoong’s hand wrapped loosely around his throat. “Alright, my darling. I’m here, I’ve got you, Hwa. It’s alright.”

Seonghwa’s eyelids fluttered, his head filled with cotton, and his mouth wouldn’t form coherent words. “Captain,” he managed, but it sounded broken and needy.

Hongjoong threw his head back with a low groan and a string of curses. “You’re trying to kill me, love.”

Seonghwa rolled his hips to rub their cocks together and swallowed Hongjoong’s next moan in clumsy kisses as he worked himself back and forth between beautiful feelings.

“Sweet prince, would you touch me?” Hongjoong’s voice only dropped this low and rough in moments of deep arousal. “Wrap your pretty hand around my cock, precious-” his breath caught as Seonghwa followed his instructions and wrapped a hand around both of them to stroke clumsily, the slide eased by the remaining oil on Seonghwa’s hand and his dick. “Yes, love, fuck. Just like that, beautiful. Just like that, darling.”

The mind-numbing pleasure singing up and down Seonghwa’s spine neared too much too soon and he pressed his wet cheek against Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Captain,” he gasped. “Hongjoong-”

Hongjoong pulled his head up by his hair, just this side of pain. “Look at me, love. I want to see your face.” He looked flushed, just as desperate as Seonghwa felt, meeting every roll of Seonghwa’s hips to fuck up into Seonghwa’s hand. “Look at me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered, but he fought to keep them open. Tears clumped his eyelashes and his mouth felt dry from panting. “Hongjoong,” A broken cry, a plea, a confession, a question, and an answer.

The weight of the sky and the heat of the stars left him boneless in Hongjoong’s arms, trembling with the cherry blossoms that floated on the wind and the nostalgia of the wide night sky’s shifting constellations and winter’s icy frost patterns on the windows. His head floated somewhere in the stratosphere with crystal clouds and sparks of lighting that shocked at the edges of his nerves.

“Seonghwa,”

He was dimly aware of the ragged sound of Hongjoong’s voice and warmth smeared over his stomach. Dimly aware of Hongjoong’s hot breath on the top of his head. Dimly aware of the racing heartbeat beneath his ear.

His whine sounded distant when Hongjoong withdrew his fingers, but clearer when he shifted to get up. “No,” Seonghwa begged. “Stay. Just for a moment. Don’t leave me.”

Hongjoong kissed the top of his head and stroked his back. “Hush, my love, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to abandon you.”

Seonghwa squeezed his arms around his husband’s waist. “I would be very unhappy if you left me.” The truest thing he could say with his lungs full of water and his bones made of sand. They never promised love.

“Your Highness?” Yunho stopped Seonghwa on his way to the study after avoiding everyone all morning and sneaking his lunch directly from the kitchens. “I understand your sisters’ fascination with pirates. I’m sure they haven’t experienced anything like us.”

That didn’t sound promising as a beginning to a question. “But?” Seonghwa prompted.

“But they seem rather enamored with Mingi and I’m afraid he’ll say something to upset them,” Yunho finished.

“Where are they?” Seonghwa didn’t want Mingi near his sisters. Or San or Wooyoung. Or Yeosang on a bad day. But Mingi most of all.

Yunho led him to a small parlor where Mingi reclined on a sofa with Fix on his shoulder, and Siyeon, Yoohyeon, and Gaeul gathered close in rapt attention.

“So you trained him the same way as a dog?” Siyeon asked in wonder. “By giving him treats?”

Mingi smiled, hat still shading his eyes. “Yes. But parrots are much smarter than dogs. The trick is getting them to understand what you want.”

Yoohyeon nodded importantly and Siyeon sighed a soft “Aha.”

Seonghwa crossed his arms. “It’s a bird,” he used his most bored voice. “It’s a trained bird. Like a menagerie, or a circus.”

Mingi frowned and offered Fix a nut from a bowl on the side table. “I seem to remember this bird saved your life.” The parrot’s wicked beak cracked the nut with a loud snap that made Yoohyeon and Gaeul jump.

Seonghwa’s sisters looked at him in awestruck fascination.

“What happened, Hwa?” Yoohyeon asked.

“The bird saved your life?” Siyeon sounded much more interested in the bird’s abilities than in Seonghwa’s life.

“Tell us,” Gaeul clasped her hands together. “Please, Hwa?”

Seonghwa shot a glare at Mingi. “A dangerous pirate tried to lure me into a trap.” Seonghwa waved a dismissive hand. “I needed to call for backup, so I told Fix to bring my husband.”

Siyeon narrowed her eyes. “Why were you out alone?”

“He shouldn’t have been.” Yunho stepped forward with a polite bow of his head. “He was supposed to stay with us, but he did everything he could to lose himself in the crowd.”

“It worked,” Seonghwa said shortly.

Yoohyeon recrossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap. “That’s a bad habit, Hwa.” She addressed Yunho, “He’s always been bad about losing his escorts.”

Siyeon snorted. “I taught him everything he knows.”

Seonghwa made a face. “That’s not true. And you learned everything from Jiu in her rebellious stage.”

“Look how long that lasted,” Siyeon sat back on the sofa defiantly. “I’ve perfected all her amateur techniques.”

The door burst open and Yujin ran in. “Hwa?” she cried and threw her arms around Seonghwa’s neck.

He wrapped an arm around her awkwardly. “Are you alright?”

Jongho jogged through the door after her and froze when he saw three other princesses, Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa.

“The dirty pirate was chasing me.” Yujin hid halfway behind Seonghwa, clinging much more than usual, obviously frightened.

“Jongho?” Honestly, Jongho would be the last one Seonghwa would be worried about. As much as he liked a good explosion and as easy as it would be for him to break a skull like a watermelon, he usually had a gentle disposition. Especially around women from what Seonghwa observed during their time ashore.

Jongho stepped up to them and sank to one knee. “I apologize, your Highness’s.”

“Explain yourself,” Seonghwa prompted, keeping his arm protectively in front of his youngest sister.

Jongho exhaled a short laugh. “I didn’t mean to cause alarm, princess. I just wanted to help.” He held up a pair of lace gloves. “You left your gloves in the dining room and I couldn’t find you to return them.”

Seonghwa almost laughed, but Yujin’s fingers dug into his shoulder. “You’ve dirtied them. I can never wear them again.”

Jongho’s eyes widened and he blinked in surprise. “No, your Highness,” he fanned them out and offered them to her. “They’re clean. They’re still perfectly white.”

Yujin peered around Seonghwa’s arm. “How can they be? Your hands are black as coal.” She intended it to bite and Seonghwa could tell it worked by the sag in Jongho’s shoulders.

“Yes, princess. But I swear they’re clean.” He set the gloves on a padded footrest and spread his fingers. “I handle too much tar and gunpowder. I’m afraid it’s stained my skin.”

Yujin sniffed, unbelieving, but Yoohyeon picked up the gloves and examined them. “They’re clean,” She confirmed.

“You big baby,” Siyeon scolded as Jongho stood up. “These pirates don’t mean us harm.”

Yunho hummed his ascent. “But there are those who do, so I suggest you keep your guard up.”

The princesses nodded seriously and Seonghwa patted Yujin’s shoulder as she left to sit down beside Yoohyeon. Seonghwa would defend them. If it came to that. But he didn’t think it would. It wouldn’t be wise of anyone targeting him to harm his sisters. It would only start a war and Hongjoong was right. No one wanted that. Really, Seonghwa would be the only one in danger.

The loose collar of Seonghwa’s shirt put the marks Hongjoong left on his neck and clavicle on proud display. The few people strolling the library fell silent and Seonghwa felt all eyes on him. The prince who married a pirate. The prince who slept with a pirate. And liked it.

“Gahyeon,” he addressed his sister lounged in an armchair with a book he recognized as the worst poetry ever written. “I forgive you.”

She exhaled a short laugh and snapped the book closed. “I’m not sure father will forgive you.”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together. It seemed like a great idea in the moment; to skip breakfast and stick it to the king, but now it seemed foolish and immature.

Before he could ask just how mad his father was, Jiu skipped up to him balancing a fat baby on her hip. “Say hello to your uncle Seonghwa,” she told the child, who raised one hand and flapped it in greeting, an absolutely vacant expression in his wide eyes.

“Oh, good day to you, my good sir.” Seonghwa accepted the baby and bounced it in his arms. “What a proper gentleman.” The baby turned his head to keep his eyes on his mother but didn’t fuss. A bubble of drool ran down his chin, and he grabbed at Seonghwa’s sparkly earrings. “No, no,” Seonghwa smiled, pushing his hands down. “Not for you. No grabbing.”

Gahyeon rolled her eyes and disappeared between the tall bookshelves.

The baby stuck a fist in its mouth and stared at Seonghwa with wide, unfocused eyes. Jiu beamed at him and brushed his thin, wispy hair back from his face. “Isn’t he precious?”

“As long as he’s not crying,” Gahyeon called from behind a shelf.

Seonghwa laughed and bounced the baby again. “No, you’re a happy baby, aren’t you?”

The baby took his drool-soaked hand out of his mouth and wrapped his tiny fingers around one of the ruffles on Seonghwa’s collar. Jiu cooed. “The best thing to come out of my marriage.”

Seonghwa patted the baby’s bottom and studied his oldest sister’s face. She looked proud of her child, adoring. “How is Chanyeol?” he asked. Wooyoung and Yeosang would be keeping him busy and out of the king’s way, as discussed.

Jiu’s smile slipped. “Fine. He’s fine. We’re fine.” She looked pointedly at a particularly dark hickey on Seonghwa’s neck. “I’m so glad you love your pirate.” A short laugh. “I must admit, I’m jealous.”

“No, don’t be.” Seonghwa shifted the baby closer to his chest. “He’s wonderful to me, spoils me, gives me everything I ask for.” The baby smacked his wet hand against Seonghwa’s collarbone and made a noise of delight. Seonghwa giggled and bounced him again. “But he’s cruel to everyone else,” he continued. “I’ve seen him maim and torture without batting an eye. He kills without a thought, he murders on a whim.”

Jiu hummed. “But he loves you.” She poked her baby’s cheek and he shrieked again in delight with a wet clap of his hands. “That would be enough for me, I think.” She laughed off Seonghwa’s concern with a toss of her head. “Chanyeol is a good man. He’s a gentleman, he doesn’t offend anyone, he makes pleasant conversation, he’s clever and polite and nice to look at.” She paused to pull her bottom lip between her teeth. “I am lucky.” She put her smile back on and rubbed the baby’s back to make him babble something that sounded like ‘mama.’

Seonghwa gasped dramatically and lifted the baby over his head to rub their noses together. “What a smart boy! Yes, that’s your mama!” He settled the giggling baby back against his chest. “Can you say ‘Uncle Seonghwa’?” He bounced the baby. “Uncle Seonghwa?”

“I have a list of girls you can choose as a paramour.” The king’s voice almost startled Seonghwa into dropping the baby. He hadn’t seen his father when he walked in.

“Paramour?” He stuttered, holding the baby close to his chest.

The king eyed him up and down with the kind of toxic superiority that made Seonghwa feel like a scorned child. “You need to take a lover. I have a list of acceptable choices.”

“I’m not going to take a lover,” Seonghwa said, but his voice came out weaker than he wanted it to. The baby smacked its wet fist against his collarbone again and giggled. Seonghwa bounced him gently.

“You need an heir.” The king took a step toward them through the shelves of books, and Seonghwa inched in front of Jiu reflexively. “That pirate won’t give you one.”

Seonghwa hadn’t considered his lineage. In situations like his, mistresses and paramours were common and accepted, but Seonghwa didn’t want one. The very clear mental image of the foreign princess he would marry someday - with large eyes, long hair, and small breasts - had faded and greyed. When he tried to picture himself with a noble girl, he could only conjure up images of Hongjoong.

“I’m not going to take a lover,” he repeated, tasting the truth of the words as they left his mouth.

“You will.” A statement of certainty that no one in their right mind would argue with, but Seonghwa must have lost his mind somewhere at sea. He handed the baby back to Jiu and stood tall and defiant. A prince did not compromise his values. A prince lifted his chin and stood his ground.

“I will not,” he announced. “I have six sisters. I will name one of their children my successor.”

The king bristled in outrage. Jiu hushed the baby’s sudden fussing. “You’ll invite a succession war is what you’ll do.”

“Then Jiu’s son is my successor,” Seonghwa decided. He took a proud step in front of Jiu to shield her. “I’ll put it in writing. Give it my seal.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” The king’s mouth twitched. “You don’t have the authority. A prince does not defy his father, Seonghwa.”

Cold fear in Seonghwa’s chest froze him for a moment. But Hongjoong wouldn’t be afraid. He’d laugh in the king’s face, spit at his feet. “A prince does not betray his morals,” Seonghwa said softly. “I will remain faithful to my husband.”

“To your pirate.” Only a step remained between them now, but Seonghwa met his father’s eyes. “You don’t honestly expect him to do the same.”

“He swore it,” Seonghwa spoke with soft certainty. “He’s never broken a promise to me.”

The king snorted. Ugly and dramatic. Seonghwa flinched. “In the three months you’ve been married?” Another harsh laugh. “He’ll grow bored of you, son. You’re a toy to him. A trophy, nothing more.” The patronizing sympathy in his tone made Seonghwa look away.

The water in Seonghwa’s lungs burned like the sting of salt up his throat. Because if he was honest with himself, Hongjoong seemed fickle in his favorite type of ale, favorite jacket, favorite hat, favorite sword. Why wouldn’t he be just as fickle with his company? If Seonghwa believed Wooyoung - and he did - the captain went through phases of favoring each of them. One season to the next his affections shifted. Why would Seonghwa be any different?

“He promised,” Seonghwa whispered. “He promised he would never abandon me.”

The king laughed again, sharp and pointed as Yunho’s cutlass. “A lie, Seonghwa. All pirates do is kill, steal, and deceive.”

Seonghwa’s head snapped up, but his argument died on his lips at the dark triumph on his father’s face.

“He left tonight. Took his crew and all the supplies I would give him and sailed off.”

Seonghwa took a step back, shaking his head. “No.” He glanced a Jiu, bouncing the fussing baby. “No, he would have told me.”

The king scoffed. “Obviously not.”

Dizziness blurred Seonghwa’s vision. He couldn’t fill his lungs. Hongjoong left him. Of course he left him. Probably to fight off Bang Chan’s crew, or go after the Red Ambassador after all, or seek someone on the list the queen gave him.

But more likely because Seonghwa invited conflict, had become too much of a burden, and didn’t consent to proper sex. More likely because Seonghwa could never be a sailor and could never be more than a soft, entitled princeling. More likely because Seonghwa wasn’t worth the effort.

He swallowed thickly and bowed to his father and his sister before he left the library.

Gahyeon found him in the garden kneeling in a bed of blue flowers. Blue flowers for death. The death of Seonghwa’s naivete.

“Hwa…” She crouched in front of him and pushed the hair away from his face.

He grabbed her hand and pushed it away. “He promised. He said he’d never abandon me. He swore he wouldn’t leave. He promised.” He looked up at her with tears blurring his vision. “He promised.”

Seonghwa saw the ship himself. The unmistakable outline of the Horizon against the blue waters sailing away.

Why did he ever trust a pirate? Oil and water didn’t mix.

Chapter Text

Gahyeon stayed with Seonghwa until the purple sunset faded to black. Clouds hid the stars and the endless darkness of the walled garden felt poetic to the betrayal that ached in Seonghwa’s chest.

“We should go to bed,” Gahyeon broke the oppressive silence. “It’s unseemly to be out so late.”

“Unseemly,” Seonghwa repeated with bitter irony. “It’s unseemly to abandon your husband after you promised not to.”

“I’m sure he had a reason.” Gahyeon pushed herself to her feet and brushed dirt from the flowerbed off her skirt. “I’m sure it will all make sense in the morning.”

Seonghwa scoffed, hurt and upset and wanting to wallow.

“Princess Gahyeon?” An unfamiliar voice called from the entrance to the garden. “It’s late, your Highness. Allow me to escort you back to your quarters.” A man who carried himself as if he had a stick up his ass and spoke with a forced upittyness that sounded about as genuine as Wooyoung’s superstitious “magic power crystals,” strutted toward them with a flourishing bow.

“Just a moment, Han.” She waved a hand at him. “Seonghwa, you’re not doing yourself any favors just moping around.”

Seonghwa scoffed again, refusing to full-out cry for a pirate. “I’m not moping.” He stood and brushed himself off. “I’ll escort the princess to her room,” he told Han.

Han straightened even further - if that was possible - and offered Seonghwa a tight smile in the flickering torchlight. “I’m afraid I must insist.”

Something changed in the air and Seonghwa wished for a weapon. The hair at the back of his neck stood up. This felt wrong. “Where is Maddox?” he asked. “Have you seen him?”

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” Han said brightly. “Haven’t seen your Pirate King around for a few hours either. Rumor has it he left.”

Seonghwa scanned his surroundings for something to use as a weapon while shifting himself between Han and Gahyeon. “He is gone.”

Han’s smile turned to poison in the torchlight. “Lucky you, then.” He dropped the forced elite tone of voice and drew the sword at his hip. “I’ll protect you both.”

Seonghwa pushed Gahyeon away. “Let her go, it’s me you want.”

Han shrugged. “Why not both?”

“Run,” Seonghwa pushed Gahyeon again and she ran out of the garden. Seonghwa ducked to avoid the sword that swung at him. “I’m more valuable to you alive,” He reminded Han. “Take care with your blade.”

Han backed him against a pillar covered with ivy. “Alive,” he agreed. “But nobody said nothing about unharmed.”

Steel rang against the stone where Seonghwa’s arm had been a moment before.

“And I reckon you’d be more docile if I roughed you up a bit.” Han’s smile told Seonghwa this was the most fun he’d had in weeks. Seonghwa wished for San or Yunho. Or even a sword. A sword would be nice.

He spun away from the pillar and picked up a fallen tree branch about the width of a spear, but shorter and bent at one end. It worked well enough to block the sweeping blows of Han’s sword, until Han cracked it in half with a high laugh.

The bustle of guards and Gahyeon’s voice distracted Han enough for Seonghwa to hit him over the head with his stick and rush toward the two guards. “A sword,” he commanded. “Give me a sword.” If Yunho taught him anything, it was how little a soldier could do against a sailor. These newly trained guards wouldn’t stand a chance against a pirate swordsmen.

But they stepped in front of Seonghwa anyway, and Gahyeon screamed when Han gutted the first with a long slice from his gut to his sternum. He collapsed onto his knees, dark blood spilling over the flowers, shiny in the flickering torches.

Seonghwa looked away, sick at his stomach.

Before the other guard could react, Han’s sword plunged through his chest. Han sighed and twisted the blade as the young guard cried his agony. Han shot a look at Seonghwa. “I’ve been missing all the fun.”

A prince did not run away and leave his sister vulnerable. No matter how much every fiber of his body wanted to run.

Seonghwa bent and picked up the first guard’s dropped sword. He stood a better chance than these young men, especially because Han would underestimate him. By the time he stood up, Han had his sword outstretched, an extension of his arm, pointed at Seonghwa’s chest.

Seonghwa swallowed thickly. “Gahyeon, get out of here.” She didn’t move from her hiding place behind one of the ivy-covered pillars.

The first crash of steel sent a spark in the darkness of the garden. The next two did the same, but Han kept his distance, testing Seonghwa’s reflexes, feeling out his ability. Seonghwa didn’t want him to know how good he’d become, so he rushed in, a flurry of glinting steel.

Hongjoong told him Yunho was the best swordsman on the sea, and Seonghwa understood now. He’d become accustomed to Yunho’s finesse and efficiency. Yunho didn’t waste movement. Yunho moved fast and hit hard.

Han fought in the flashy way stage players portrayed pirates. Swashbuckling, dramatic, and nearly a dance. But it threw Seonghwa off enough that Han forced him back into a flower bed. The soft dirt sank beneath his feet and made dexterity difficult. A tree behind him snagged his jacket in the branches. And Seonghwa just wished for Hongjoong to come save him.

But Seonghwa didn’t need someone to save him. He could save himself. If Hongjoong left him, he could defend himself and show the stupid Pirate King that he didn’t need him.

He took the offensive, using a combination of lightning-quick movements Yunho taught him.

Han fell to his knees, disarmed, and Seonghwa pushed him down with a foot on his chest and his blade at the hollow of his throat.

Han swallowed a few times, looking up at Seonghwa and waiting while Seonghwa’s breathing calmed. A dark smile grew on his face, terrible in the uneven torchlight. “You can’t kill me, can you princeling?” he taunted. “You won’t do it.”

And Seonghwa felt frozen. Because he couldn’t take a life. He couldn’t. But it would be the right choice. If he let Han live, Han would run back to Bang Chan and tell him Hongjoong left and Seonghwa was vulnerable. He would come back with reinforcements, a gun instead of a sword, a plan. If Seonghwa didn’t kill him, he might hurt Gahyeon or one of the others.

Han’s laugh struck a fire in Seonghwa’s chest. He couldn’t kill him. However easy it would be to push the blade of his sword through the soft flesh of Han’s throat. He couldn’t silence the mocking laughter.

“Make up your mind. Are you a pirate or are you a prince?” Han goaded.

Something snapped in Seonghwa’s psyche. He withdrew the sword from Han’s neck and pushed it as hard as he could into his leg. Han screamed in pain and surprise. Seonghwa bent to put his full weight on the blade sinking through muscle and bone above Han’s knee. Hongjoong shot the one from the market in the kneecap. This one couldn’t do as much damage crippled. And it would send his message loud and clear.

Han screamed again. The bone cracked with a sickening pop that turned Seonghwa’s stomach.

“I’m the prince who married a pirate,” he gritted out through his teeth. He could feel the sword sink into the soft earth beneath Han’s leg. “And that’s enough.” He kept pushing the sword deeper until the hilt met the warm, sticky blood running over the leg.

He stood and did not look at the way the dirt shone wet around Han, or the bodies of the guards crumpled on the ground, crushing the flowers.

“Gahyeon,” he called. “Go find mother. Tell her what happened.”

Gahyeon looked haunted in the flickering golden light. “Where are you going?”

“To get my sword.” Maybe Hongjoong knew what he was doing. Maybe he left knowing that Seonghwa could defend himself. Maybe he had gone to take out Bang Chan himself. At any rate, Seonghwa wouldn’t cower. A prince lifted his chin and stood his ground. A prince didn’t weep when his husband left.

Gahyeon picked up a bloody sword from the ground. "Take this one.” She followed Seonghwa into the light of the torch and froze. “Hwa, you’re bleeding.”

“No, I’m not.” He could feel cooling blood soaked through the knees of his pants and smeared on his hands and shirt. He hated it.

“Yes, you are.” She touched a tear in his sleeve and pulled her fingers back bloody. “You’re hurt.”

And suddenly, because he saw the cut, it did hurt. He hissed through his teeth and looked around the dark garden. “We need to send someone out here to clean up.”

“You need the physician,” Gahyeon argued.

“No.” Seonghwa pulled her back inside the palace. “It’s fine. It’s not that deep.” It did feel deep. It ached in a way that made his muscles feel weak. But altering anyone else of the threat seemed dangerous if Bang Chan’s crew had infiltrated the palace so completely. And Seonghwa didn’t feel inclined to trust anyone at the moment.

Gahyeon tugged his other hand. “At least come with me to see mother,” she pleaded. “I’m afraid, Hwa, I don’t want to go alone.”

So Seonghwa went with her through the quiet halls of the darkened palace.

“Will she be with father?” he wondered when they neared their parent’s suite.

Gahyeon pressed her lips together tightly. “No.”

Seonghwa knew better than to question her. Because if he asked a question, she’d give him an answer he didn’t want to hear.

Sure enough, a light glimmered under the door of their mother’s private room. Gahyeon knocked lightly but didn’t wait for a response before dragging Seonghwa through the door and closing it behind them.

The queen sat upright in her bed and set her book aside when she recognized her children. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She stood and turned the lamp brighter.

Seonghwa set the sword on the writing-table by the door and covered the cut on his arm. “Mama…” But he couldn’t finish. Mama, my husband left me without saying goodbye. Mama, I watched two good soldiers die to protect me. Mama, I almost a killed a man. Mama, I trusted a pirate and he broke my heart.

“Let me see.” She rushed to his side and pried his hand away from the cut on his arm. “Oh, Seonghwa.” She pulled him to her washbasin and dabbed cold water over the cut. It hurt.

Gahyeon explained what happened in the garden and the queen nodded seriously, unsurprised.

“I’ll send someone I trust out to collect the bodies.” She tore a strip of bandage and wrapped it around Seonghwa’s arm. It hurt.

“Who is left to trust?” he wondered bitterly.

She regarded him with cool shrewdness. “You still haven’t heard anything about Maddox?”

“No. Have you?” He swung his bandaged arm to try to loosen it up and keep it from getting too sore.

She shook her head. “I fear the worst.” That didn’t bode well and settled as uncomfortable nausea in Seonghwa’s stomach. “My spies have identified a few of the infiltrators,” she continued. “I relayed that information to your husband as soon as I received it.”

“My husband is gone.” Seonghwa’s tone sounded flat and expressionless, but his arm throbbed and the edge of a headache increased his nausea.

The queen looked surprised. “Oh. I didn’t realize-” She frowned at his injured arm. “That would explain…” She trailed off and took Gahyeon’s arm to lead her to a chair. “Sit down, child, you’re white as a sheet.” She poured a cup of wine from a pitcher beside her bed and wrapped Gahyeon’s hands around it. “Drink. You’ll need your strength.”

Seonghwa sat in the small chair next to her. “Mama, I don’t know how I’m going to fight off all these pirates.”

She paused midway through pouring him a cup of wine. “Why on earth would you have to fight?”

Seonghwa tossed his hand, agitated. “Because I’m the only one in this palace who knows how to fight a sailor.”

“There are plenty of good swordsmen here, Hwa,” Gahyeon pointed out bluntly. “You’re not the only one.”

“Yunho is the best swordsman on the seas and he trained me.” Seonghwa squinted at the sword balanced on the writing desk and wondered how this night might have ended differently if Hongjoong hadn’t apologized for making light of Seonghwa’s hard-earned sword fighting skills. How far he might be on Bang Chan’s ship by now if Hongjoong hadn’t told Yunho to train him. But Seonghwa didn’t want to give him any credit for saving his life. “Pirates don’t follow rules. It’s a different kind of fighting. “

“Hush, my son.” His mother handed him the cup of wine and picked up a hairbrush from her vanity. “You don’t need to fight anyone.” She smoothed his hair with deft fingers and began to brush it. “You’re safe here, Hwa.”

He tilted his head back and allowed himself to be mothered. To be doted upon. To be cared for. “I’d begun to think the safest place for me was at Hongjoong’s side,” he admitted.

“It is,” she hummed, working the brush gently through a knot. “He’ll always protect you. He told me so.”

The hairbrush’s coarse bristles against his scalp soothed him and his mother’s soft voice centered him, but his feelings still felt jagged around the edges. “Then why did he leave?”

She sighed and moved to stand behind Gahyeon and unpin her hair. “Sometimes it can be difficult to see the bigger picture when you focus on the details.”

Gahyeon helped with the pins and stretched like a contented cat when the queen began to brush her hair. “I’ve told him to stop moping, mama.”

The queen hummed to herself. “You’re allowed to feel your emotions, my son. If it hurts, let it hurt, but don’t torture yourself by dwelling on it.”

Seonghwa frowned. “What am I supposed to dwell on?”

“You told me in your letter that he is kind to you. That he is fond of you.” She smiled the sort of gentle smile only a mother can wear. “Dwell on pleasant things, dear. There’s no need to make yourself miserable.”

But it hurt just as badly to think of the ways Hongjoong showed him kindness. The sweet words, the careful touches, the security of his arms. The ways he said he was fond of Seonghwa. Silly things. Trivial things. Things that didn’t matter.

Seonghwa stood up. “I’m going to retire.”

The queen nodded. “Be careful, Seonghwa.”

As if he would be anything else.

When Seonghwa neared his bedroom, he heard the unmistakable grunts and thumps of a fight. He opened the door slowly, but a body on the floor stopped him from opening it all the way.

In the middle of the room, a servant Seonghwa didn’t recognize rolled over the bed to escape someone. Seonghwa waited for the other fighter to enter the sliver of the room visible through the cracked door.

Seonghwa didn’t know who he expected, but he didn’t expect Hongjoong. With a knife. And blood smeared on his cheek and sleeves. And only one boot on.

He tackled the other man to the ground and held the knife to his throat. “How many of you are there?” he demanded.

Seonghwa forced the door open to walk inside. “You didn’t leave,” he accused.

Hongjoong looked up at him. “Seonghwa?”

That momentary distraction gave the attacker enough opening to reverse the hold and tear Hongjoong’s knife out of his hand.

Seonghwa didn’t stop to think, he picked up the overstuffed green velvet chair and hit the man over the head with it. He collapsed into a heap on the ground and the knife in his hand skidded over the floor to rest at Seonghwa’s feet.

Hongjoong pushed himself to his knees slowly, checked the pirate’s pulse, and shook his head at Seonghwa. “Give me the knife.” He gestured to the knife on the ground.

“You’re going to kill him.” Seonghwa didn’t want to watch that. He’d seen enough death today. Enough pain. He picked up the knife anyway.

“Yes,” Hongjoong agreed. “I swore I’d slay anyone who endangered you.” He held out his hand expectantly.

Seonghwa’s throat stung and his eyes felt hot. His arm throbbed and he felt sick. “You also swore you wouldn’t abandon me.”

Hongjoong tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, confused. “I didn’t abandon you.”

“But I saw your ship. My father said you left. I thought…” Seonghwa trailed off, looking down at the knife in his hands.

“Oh, my love.” Hongjoong stood and took the knife delicately. “My sweet prince.” He threw the knife and it landed with a sick, wet thwack in the assassin’s throat. “I’m so sorry I distressed you.” With the same hand that threw the knife, he reached up to touch Seonghwa’s face. “I tried to warn you, darling. But I couldn’t tell you. The trap wouldn’t work if you knew.”

The trap. It made sense. To draw the pirates out of hiding while they thought Seonghwa was helpless.

Seonghwa wasn’t helpless.

He stepped away from Hongjoong - avoiding the slick puddle of blood beneath the body still mostly blocking the door - and held up a hand to stop him from coming closer. “It almost worked in their favor.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong looked confused until he noticed the bloodstains camouflaged in the dark fabric of Seonghwa’s pants and jacket. “Oh God, Seonghwa,” he sounded suddenly breathless and horrified. “Are you hurt?”

A raw laugh forced its way out of Seonghwa’s throat. “You promised you wouldn’t abandon me. Multiple times. You said, “I’m not going to abandon you.” And then I saw your ship sailing away.” He laughed again and it tasted bitter in the back of his mouth. “If Yunho hadn’t taught me how to fight a pirate, I’d probably be dead.”

Hongjoong looked shell-shocked. “What happened?” His voice sounded distant, small.

Seonghwa shook his head. “I almost killed a man.” He looked down at his trembling hands. “If a doctor doesn’t tend to him, he will die.”

Guilt and shame crashed over him in a sudden wave. A prince is gentle and merciful. A prince is calm and collected. A prince does not display his power through violence. A prince does not inflict pain.

Seonghwa sank slowly to the edge of the bed and curled in on himself. “I broke his bones,” he whispered. “I heard them crack.” The horror made him tremble. The scream of raw pain echoed in his ears. “I pushed the sword into the ground beneath him.” And watered the flowers with blood. And left him there helpless.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said softly, “You cannot be faulted for self-defense.”

“I needed you.” Seonghwa raised his voice. “I needed you and I thought you left. My father told me-- I saw your ship sailing away. I saw it.” He stood, breathing hard, nearly yelling. “He’s going to make me take a lover, Hongjoong, I don’t want a lover. I don’t want some gold-digging noble girl.” He laughed mirthlessly, spitting his words. “I’m a fool. I want to go back to sea with you. I want you to steal pretty things for me and kiss me in front of your crew to make them jealous. I want you to look at me the way you do after you’ve won a fight - like I’m something precious and beautiful - and call me ‘darling’ and ‘love’-” He choked and realized his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He shut them tight to keep the tears from falling. “I’m such a fool,” he gritted through his teeth. “It’s all a power play to you. I'm just your newest toy, aren't I? You'll grow bored of me. I’m some bauble to put on display or brush aside when you want.”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong spoke urgently, warm hands cupping Seonghwa’s cheeks, and like a foolish idiot, he leaned into the touch. “Seonghwa, my love…” Hongjoong stood a little shorter than Seonghwa without his boots, but Seonghwa never thought of him as small. Now, he looked diminutive. Heartbroken. Tiny. His thumb wiped a stray tear off Seonhwa’s cheek. “If you are a bauble, you are a diamond.” Honesty shone through his bottomless eyes. “That’s the hardest kind of stone, you know.” The weak twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “It usually survives.”

As kind as that sentiment came across, it wasn’t what Seonghwa needed to hear. He pushed Hongjoong’s hands away and took a step back. “We never promised love.”

Something close to pain crossed Hongjoong’s face. “We never promised love,” he agreed. “But Seonghwa,” his lip trembled and he crossed his arms over his chest with a deep exhale. “I’m so very fond of you. I…” He shook his head. “I apologize. For all of this. For dragging you into this mess. For asking for your hand.”

Seonghwa stared at him, not knowing where to begin to process this turn. He realized he’d never seen Hongjoong this unguarded and vulnerable outside their physical intimacy.

“It was wrong of me. I honestly didn’t expect your father to agree. I only wanted insurance that he wouldn't turn back on the treaty.” Hongjoong exhaled a short laugh. “I had a hunch you would be fierce, but I didn’t imagine how endearing- how lovely--” He turned around to pull the knife from the dead body’s throat and wipe it clean on the poor man’s uniform. “You don’t deserve any of this, sweet prince. You deserve some pretty noble girl with a tight cunt who can write you poetry and bear you sons.” He stood stiffly. “You deserve some pretty noble girl who isn’t afraid to admit to herself that she loves you.” His face had hardened back to its impassive mask, but his dark eyes glittered in the lamplight.

“Captain,” Seonghwa whispered. The water in his lungs weighed more than the iron anchor on Hongjoong’s ship. He couldn’t breathe. “Do you-”

“Don’t ask,” Hongjoong turned away, “Please, don’t ask.”

Seonghwa swallowed thickly and wet his lips. “You promised me respect, honor, and fidelity.” He felt a little weak in the knees, so he perched on the edge of the bed again. “You promised me kindness. You promised you wouldn’t leave me.”

Hongjoong took an unsteady breath and set his jaw. “Yes. I did.” He stepped over to tap the dead body by the door with his foot. "But not love." He did not look at Seonghwa as he tugged on his missing boot and began to gather up the bodies on the floor. “I’m going to clean up. Don’t wait up for me.”

Seonghwa splashed cold water on his face and changed into his nightclothes without thinking about anything in particular. He tried to fall asleep quickly, but the bed felt cold and empty without Hongjoong and he saw blood every time he closed his eyes.

He laid still and quiet when Hongjoong returned. He stared unseeing at the dark wall and listened to the familiar sound of his husband undressing. The bed dipped, but Hongjoong didn't come close enough for Seonghwa to feel the warmth.

The blankets shifted and Seonghwa closed his eyes as Hongjoong leaned over him and kissed his cheek softly. "We did not promise love and I could not ask it of you, my darling prince, but I do wish for it," he whispered.

Seonghwa thought falling in love must be a little like drowning. Fear and panic as the lungs filled with water. A desperate, clawing fight to break the surface and breathe again. A burning ache in the chest and a cloying weariness from defying nature.

Seonghwa trembled beside his husband under the warm duvet. He felt like he should say something, should tell Hongjoong about the bubble of conflicting feelings in his gut. How it hurt to think he might have left. How some part of Seonghwa glowed in the moments Hongjoong called him "mine" and pulled his wrist possessively. How everyone seemed to think Hongjoong loved Seonghwa except the king. And how hearing his shrewd assessment of Hongjoong's true intentions cut Seonghwa deeper than Yunho's cutlass.

But Seonghwa was drowning and he couldn't cough up enough water to speak.

Chapter Text

Seonghwa studied his reflection in the long mirror while he buttoned a fitted blue waistcoat that had been his favorite before his wedding. How quickly everything could change. How quickly he went from a porcelain prince with matching suits and hair clipped neatly above his ears to a tanned scoundrel with hair that curled at the base of his neck almost long enough to tie in a short ponytail wearing ill-fitting, stolen women’s garments.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong knelt to tie his boots. “You said something last night-”

“I said a lot of things last night.” It came out sharper than he intended. “I meant most of them.”

Hongjoong stood slowly and picked up Seonghwa’s silver hairbrush to fiddle with. “You said your father would force you to take a lover.”

Seonghwa smoothed his hands over his waistcoat. “That’s what he wants. I told him I wouldn’t.” He did not look at Hongjoong’s reaction, bending over a shallow drawer in his armoire to choose a brooch.

“You told him you wouldn’t take a lover?” Hongjoong sounded surprised. “You can, darling. I won’t stop you. You need a son. You need-”

“I need that bottle.” Seonghwa pointed at a decorative bottle of perfumed oil on a shelf across the room. He didn’t want to hear what he needed. He didn’t want anyone to tell him what he needed.

Hongjoong fetched the bottle. “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t have an heir.”

Seonghwa pinned a large amber brooch to the ruffles at his throat. “Jiu’s son is my heir. I’ve decided.” He would put it in writing and give it his seal and entrust it to his mother for safekeeping. “My mother will agree.” He didn’t know that for sure, but she usually supported his personal decisions.

Hongjoong sighed, holding out the cologne for Seonghwa to take and meeting his eyes through the mirror. “I’ve been speaking with your mother.”

A few spritzes of the cologne filled the air with a fresh scent Seonghwa always liked. Hints of spice that spoke of exotic places he’d never go, adventures he’d never have. How quickly everything could change.

“You were intended to marry a princess. Not a criminal.” Hongjoong set the perfume bottle down on the writing desk with a clink. “I know that’s how you think of me.”

“That’s not how I think of you,” Seonghwa argued cooly, “I think of you as my husband.”

Hongjoong picked up the hairbrush again and twirled it restlessly in his hands. “I can’t fulfill you. Even if you wanted fuck me, it’s not the same. Girls are different. You need a girl who-”

“I don’t want a girl,” Seonghwa spoke over him. “I don’t want a gold-digging-”

“I’m not going to hold you back,” Hongjoong interrupted. “I’m sure there are some very nice girls out there with good intentions-”

“You’re trying to get rid of me,” Seonghwa realized. “Three months and you’re bored with me? Trying to push me off on some girl?” He hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“I am not bored of you.” The hairbrush hit Hongjoong’s palm hard enough to make Seonghwa flinch. “I’m just trying to think about your future-”

“My future, not our future.” Seonghwa turned his back to the mirror. “If you don’t want me, say it. I’m sure my father would be overjoyed to have our marriage annulled.”

Hongjoong’s face twisted into a grimace. “Why would you think I want that?”

Seonghwa exhaled sharply through his teeth. “Why wouldn’t you? If you’re a hardened criminal like you claim-”

“Like I claim?” Hongjoong straightened, maybe a little taller than Seonghwa with his boots on. “As if you don’t cower and tremble every time I save your life.”

“I saved my own life last night,” Seonghwa spat. “I killed a man, Hongjoong. I saved myself and my sister because I thought you left me.”

“I didn’t leave you.” Hongjoong spread his arms helplessly, a dangerous furrow on his brow. “I’ve kept every promise I’ve ever made to you.”

“And you think you know what’s good for me.” A sarcastic lilt in Seonghwa’s voice as he walked away to find delicate diamond earrings. “You think you know what I want.”

“I never claim to know what you want,” Hongjoong protested. “You never tell me what you want.”

Seonghwa fastened one earring and hit the table beside the armoire with his fist. “I want to be married to a good man.” He fastened the other earring and checked his reflection again in the pause that followed.

“A good man,” Hongjoong echoed softly and shook his head with a sharp exhale. “I will never be a good man and you will never be happy.”

Seonghwa shut his mouth with a snap and straightened his neck scarf as he walked out the door. It closed behind him with a satisfying thump.

Hongjoong was not a good man and Seonghwa was a fool for drowning.

Unbearably tense silence reigned at lunch.

Hongjoong didn’t join them because his presence should remain a secret, but he “left Yunho and San behind to watch over Seonghwa until his speedy return.”

Yunho and Gahyeon didn’t look away from each other often. San stayed mostly quiet and dramatically miserable across the table from Seonghwa.

“Why haven’t we accepted the proposal?” the king demanded, chewing loudly.

The queen moved food around her plate. “We don’t stand anything to gain from-”

“We stand to gain an ally,” the king interrupted. “No matter he might give up the ghost any day now. If he wants to marry my daughter, give her to him. I have four more to make better matches.” Like his daughters were a form of currency. Seonghwa bit his lip.

Siyeon made a face. “Father, he has four wives already and they all have children.” She’d always been able to argue with calm logic and Seonghwa admired her for it. “He’s too old to have any children now and when he passes, there will be a massive upheaval from the other wives all wanting their son on the throne. They’ll kill each other and me so I don’t threaten them.”

“Nonsense.” The king spat onto the edge of his plate. “You can find some estate to run to when the Yellow King croaks. Keep yourself out of trouble.” He glanced up at Siyeon. “I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.”

Siyeon raised her eyebrows and shared a look with Jiu. “It would be wiser to continue delaying the engagement until the Yellow King is dead.”

“He could live another ten years,” the king argued. “I’m not going to offend him because you’re scared of a few other petty women.” He waved a hand at the queen. “Accept the proposal.”

Yunho tapped the table thoughtfully. “If I may, your Majesty.”

Seonghwa’s head snapped up in a panic. If Yunho said something offensive and set the king off, things could go very badly for Seonghwa very quickly.

With the king’s tight nod of acquiescence and look of great disdain, Yunho continued. “I agree with Siyeon. It would be unwise to accept the proposal.”

Seonghwa’s panic intensified. He silently begged Yunho to stop. Though he marveled that Yunho learned his sisters’ names when their father couldn’t often tell them apart.

“However,” Yunho said, “It would also be unwise to refuse the proposal.”

“Then what, pray tell, is your brilliant suggestion?” the king asked through his teeth.

Yunho smiled gently. “I’d like to ruin your daughter’s reputation, your Majesty.”

A collective gasp pulled all the air from the room.

“What is he trying to pull?” Yoohyeon hissed.

“He’s not at all Siyeon’s type,” Gahyeon scoffed under her breath.

Yunho held up a hand. “In rumor only. That’s all it would take.” He turned his appeal to Siyeon. “Whatever narrative you choose. The pirates took advantage of you, or perhaps you became infatuated.” He glanced very briefly at Gahyeon and Seonghwa didn’t miss it. “Either way, the Yellow King couldn’t marry you if you lost your virtue.”

Siyeon stared at Yunho like she’d never seen a human person before.

“She couldn’t marry anyone if she lost her virtue.” The king spat again. “Then what good is she?”

Yujin coughed on her drink at the end of the table and Seonghwa wished he could rub her back and tell her value meant more than usefulness to their father. Because of course, they never told the king what happened. It wouldn’t have helped and would have made Yujin a pariah. Thinking about it put a foul taste in Seonghwa’s mouth.

Yunho bowed his head to Siyeon and to the queen. “Just a thought.”

The steward usually stayed in his office at the end of the servant’s quarters. The royalty wasn’t supposed to come down here, but Seonghwa felt anxious in these halls without Maddox and he really needed someone to confide in about the nebulous state of his feelings for his husband.

The word “prince,” hissed behind a door left slightly ajar gave Seonghwa pause.

“More of a threat than we thought, obviously.” A smooth voice said from the small room.

Seonghwa looked both ways down the corridor and leaned against the wall beside the door to listen.

“Haven’t heard from Seungmin either.” Another voice said, closer to the door. “He was supposed to nab the prince last night.”

A drawer closed somewhere in the room. “Chan won’t like it.” The first voice said. “He’ll be angry. What happened to Han.”

Seonghwa’s heart beat loud in his chest.

“Pretty prince has some bite to his bark.” The second voice remarked. “Maybe we should kill him. Save Chan the trouble.”

“That’s not the plan. That’s not our orders, Changbin.” Another drawer closed and the first voice sounded agitated. “He’s more valuable alive.”

Changbin buzzed his lips. “I’m still not convinced the Pirate King would fight for him. Seems more likely to me that he’d shoot the prince himself rather than risk Chan getting him.”

Seonghwa hung his head and pressed his lips together. Didn’t Hongjoong value power over everything else? Hadn’t Yeosang said something similar? Seonghwa felt powerless. And he hated feeling powerless.

“Could be,” the first voice reasoned. “But everyone here’s saying they’re in love.”

Changbin laughed. “In love? Hongjoong? He sold his soul to the sea and the sirens ate his shriveled, black heart with their breakfast. Can’t be the Pirate King and love.”

Seonghwa took a breath and continued down the hall toward the steward’s office. He wanted to run to Hongjoong’s arms and tell him the terrible things he heard. He wanted his husband to stroke his hair and call him “beautiful” and “darling” and “love.” He wanted his husband to kiss his cheeks and say “your safety is my first priority.” He wanted to feel warm and comforted and loved.

An iron grip closed around his wrist, and he swung around instinctually to smack the aggressor. But Hongjoong caught his arm and pulled him into a servant’s common room. “What are you doing back here?” Hongjoong closed the door behind them.

“I was going to ask the steward about my attendant.” Seonghwa lifted his chin. He shouldn’t have to answer for this. He could roam his castle as he wished.

Hongjoong looked at him carefully and stepped in to place a comfortable hand at Seonghwa’s waist. “You’re upset. What happened? Was it your father?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “No. And San was very well-behaved at lunch.” He couldn’t think of a good way to relay what he overheard, so he put on a smile. “I’m not upset.”

Hongjoong cupped his cheek. “You promised honesty. Don’t lie to me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa had to turn his head. “I overheard two of Bang Chan’s men. He wants me alive, so that’s something-”

“Where are they?” Hongjoong stepped away, hand going to his hip for a weapon that wasn’t there.

Seonghwa really didn’t want Hongjoong to kill them. He’d already killed two last night. And Seonghwa just wanted to forget that he married a murderer, a thief, and a criminal. “They said you sold your soul to the sea.”

Hongjoong stared at him. “Where are they?”

“They said the sirens ate your heart,” Seonghwa stalled.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong shook his head in tight dismissal. “Sirens aren’t real.” He stepped forward, too close to Seonghwa, too threatening. “Where are they?”

“I thought you didn’t have a heart,” Seonghwa confessed. “I would have believed them at first, but I think you do have a heart.” He took Hongjoong’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Because you protect your crew and you protect me. You’re not heartless. You do it to defend what you care about.” He realized it was true as he said it.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong freed his hand. “Where are Bang Chan’s men?”

Seonghwa put himself between Hongjoong and the door. “And if you do care about me, then you must have a heart,” he reasoned. “You’re not heartless.”

“Of course I care about you.” Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to protect you right now. Tell me where they are.”

Heavy footsteps down the hall froze Seonghwa. He would recognize his father’s heavy footfalls anywhere. And he realized a few things simultaneously. He shouldn’t be here in the servant’s wing. Hongjoong shouldn’t be here at all. The likelihood of the king entering this common room seemed high considering the many rooms branching off and probably containing one or a few of his secret lovers. And if the king found them here nearly arguing, Seonghwa could wave goodbye to any notion of going back to sea with his husband, or ever seeing his husband again.

Seonghwa panicked. He pushed Hongjoong against the wall by the door and kissed him. The king might not recognize them. He might not see them. He might walk right by.

Hongjoong pushed Seonghwa back, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“Please, Captain,” Seonghwa begged. “Just kiss me.” He pressed Hongjoong further into the wall and Hongjoong allowed it. He let Seonghwa’s mouth move against his. He tolerated the arm braced on the wall by his head and the firm pressure of Seonghwa’s other hand on his shoulder.

Of course, Hongjoong could throw Seonghwa halfway across the room if he wanted to, so Seonghwa didn’t see any harm in tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Or pressing their bodies together chest to thigh. Or sliding his hand up the curve of Hongjoong’s shoulder to angle his jaw.

“Darling,” Hongjoong mumbled. “Why-”

The door opened and Seonghwa startled at the noise and pressed his forehead against Hongjoong’s. He prayed his father would walk past.

“Seonghwa?” The harsh tone made Seonghwa take a full step away from Hongjoong, caught and guilty. The king noticed Hongjoong. “What are you doing here?”

Hongjoong peeled himself off the wall and looked at Seonghwa with dark accusation. “I could ask you the same thing, Majesty.” He spread his hands to indicate the room. “What’s a king doing in the servant’s wing?”

“What were you doing to my son?” the king spat, defensive. Seonghwa took a step toward Hongjoong.

Hongjoong giggled, mouth twisted in a haughty sneer. “What was your son doing to me, you mean.” He glanced at Seonghwa. “It’s a shame you interrupted, I was curious to see where that would go.”

The look the king turned on Seonghwa could wither a plant. “You have a private room, boy. A prince keeps his decency. A prince does not put on public displays of…” he waved a hand, “Filth.”

Seonghwa bowed his head. “I’m sorry, father,” his voice sounded small even to his own ears. “I wasn’t thinking-”

“Filth,” The king repeated, scowling at Hongjoong, who only raised his eyebrows in petty amusement. “If you must be physical, don’t do it where anyone might see you.”

Seonghwa bowed again and kept his eyes fixed on the wood floor. “It won’t happen again, sir. I don’t know what came over me.” His heartbeat raced and he felt sick.

Hongjoong’s arm snuck around Seonghwa’s waist and he leaned into the comfort of the embrace in spite of himself. “If it offends you so much to see your son in my arms, you shouldn’t have married us.” He sounded bored. A sweet kiss to the top of Seonghwa’s head. “I think I have the right to fuck my husband anywhere I damn well please.”

The king’s scowl intensified. It could wither a whole tree. “I thought Seonghwa had you pinned.” And the way he said it, so tightly, so strained, Seonghwa could tell it didn’t come out easily. It was a struggle for his father to imply that he was capable of any sort of dominance. He only insinuated that Seonghwa could possibly be the one in power to knock Hongjoong down a peg. Blood rushed past Seonghwa’s ears.

A high giggle; the breathy kind that made a small zing of heat shoot through Seonghwa’s body. “So he did.” His hand left Seonghwa’s waist to wrap loosely around his neck. “I still have the right to ride my husband’s cock wherever I damn well please.”

Seonghwa gasped. He must have forgotten to drink enough water with his lunch, because he felt light-headed and dizzy from dehydration. The mental image Hongjoong’s words conjured did not help.

“Your mother will be disappointed,” the king scolded. “To know you so easily fall prey to lust.”

Seonghwa raised his eyes. “I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with lust for one’s spouse.” And he couldn’t deny that he felt it. That sometimes, he just wanted.

Hongjoong laughed, high and whimsical. “Beautifully put, darling.” He used his hold on Seonghwa’s throat to angle his head and speak at the edge of Seonghwa’s jaw. “Perhaps you should finish what you started.” A few lazy kisses pressed into Seonghwa’s skin. “Now that we’ve established it’s not a sin.”

The king made a disgusted sound and strutted out of the room with a flip of his cape.

Hongjoong continued kissing just under Seonghwa’s jaw until the sound of his footsteps faded away. Then, he stepped back all at once, leaving Seonghwa cold and slightly breathless.

“You promised honesty,” Hongjoong growled. “You promised not to fake it, not to play it up for dramatics.” If Seonghwa didn’t know better, he’d say Hongjoong looked hurt.

His sudden anger made Seonghwa take another step back. He shook his head. “I didn’t fake it. I didn’t-”

“You shoved me against a wall,” Hongjoong interrupted, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. “You don’t do that. You’re never that demanding.”

Seonghwa looked at him for a moment. Sure, he rarely instigated any intimacy between them, but he didn’t think it was fair to assume that Seonghwa couldn’t.

He closed the distance between them. “You played it up too,” he accused. “And I’m honestly surprised you’d even implicate that you would let me top.” If Hongjoong only cared about power, surely he wouldn’t ever entertain the idea.

Hongjoong’s hand at his throat steadied him. Centered him. Though he didn’t think Hongjoong intended that. “My dear, sweet prince,” threatening words dipped in sugar and hissed through clenched teeth. “Your cock is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen and you’re a damned fool if you think I don’t dream of riding you until you cry.”

Seonghwa’s brain snuffed out like a candle in a strong breeze. He wrapped a fist in the front of Hongjoong’s shirt and shoved him back the few steps to the wall. “Kiss me,” he ordered.

Eyes wide, Hongjoong’s mouth fell open before Seonghwa covered it with his own. Seonghwa didn’t usually kiss like this; rough and harsh and possessive. Teeth and stolen gasps of hot breath.

When he leaned back and braced a hand on the wall beside Hongjoong’s head, Hongjoong stared at him with shock and awe and breathless hunger. Seonghwa wet his lips. “I meant it. Maybe I needed a little fear to push me.” He leaned in to growl against Hongjoong’s ear the way the pirate always did to him. “But I’ve wanted to do this. Wanted to kiss you like you’re mine.”

Hongjoong shivered. “Yours,” he breathed. He seemed to remember himself and pushed Seonghwa back so he could step away from the wall, brushing himself off. “Fine. Good.” His mask of haughty amusement lifted the corners of his mouth. “As long as you wanted to.”

He walked away like he had somewhere to be. Seonghwa felt a small hopelessness cold in his chest. Like the sting of a papercut. Negligible, a tiny inconvenience, but omnipresent and unignorable.

It felt just a little bit like rejection.

He found Yunho speaking pleasantly with Jiu’s husband in the corridor. Seonghwa nodded politely to his brother-in-law and pulled Yunho away to walk with him.

“Don’t think I don’t see you looking at Gahyeon,” he scolded.

Yunho smiled beguilingly. “I’m not sure what you mean, your Highness. Is there any harm in looking at the princess?”

Seonghwa smacked his arm. He felt restless. Too big for his own skin. Itchy. “She’s very much off-limits, Yunho. Don’t even try.”

Yunho’s smile turned sly as they walked. “What if she approached me?”

“No.” Seonghwa walked faster. “She wouldn’t.”

A shrug, and then a concerned frown. “What’s bothering you? It’s not me and Gahyeon.”

Seonghwa stopped just inside the door to the garden and put a hand to his forehead. “You were Hongjoong’s favorite. He said so.” He held up a finger before Yunho could protest. “I just want to know why. What did you do? What made him like you?” He needed to know. He needed a checklist. He needed Hongjoong’s warm affection.

Yunho shook his head. The warm breeze from outside blew through the open doors to ruffle his hair and make the beads and shells tied and braided into it clink together. “We knew each other the longest. Mingi and I were the only ones to know him before he was the Pirate King.”

Seonghwa crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “When you slept with him, what did you do?”

Yunho tilted his head, surprised. “I don’t- I mean, nothing crazy.”

“What do I have to do for him to love me?” Seonghwa blurted.

Yunho softened, something like pity behind his expression. "Oh, Seonghwa. I'm not the one who can answer that question."

Seonghwa didn’t want pity. He hated it. He kicked himself for his idiotic foolishness and set off again briskly down the corridor. Yunho kept up. "If you lay a finger on Gahyeon, I will have you arrested and hanged for piracy," he gritted through his teeth.

Yunho's bright laugh echoed off the stone walls. "I'll keep that in mind."

The familiar path to the foodstuffs storage room gave Seonghwa time to think. He’d never been able to tell exactly what Hongjoong thought about him, but he realized he never asked. He thought the pirate would probably be honest if Seonghwa asked him a direct question.

And really, he hadn’t left. He stayed to help keep Seonghwa safe. He talked to the queen daily to learn whatever her spies drudged up. He’d been kind when Seonghwa needed it.

So offering him a nice bottle of imported whiskey seemed like an appropriate olive branch. They could talk, maybe. Seonghwa could try to understand his husband’s reasoning.

The long storeroom lined with cabinets and closets and pantries would be intimidating to anyone who didn’t know what they were looking for. But Seonghwa snuck in here all the time with Gahyeon to steal sweets when they were young. He made a bee-line for the back corner where he knew the alcohol was kept.

A foul smell made Seonghwa turn up his nose. Something must have gone bad. Rotten.

He opened closets and cabinets, searching for the offending smell, and yelled in surprise when something large and heavy fell out of a small closet.

A body.

Seonghwa knelt beside the stinking corpse and covered his mouth with a trembling hand.

"Maddox," he whispered. "They killed Maddox."

Chapter Text

A frown creased the queen’s delicate brow. She folded her hands together at the square table in the study. Lamplight illuminated the grey hairs at her temples and the fine lines around her eyes. She looked between Seonghwa and Hongjoong with the resolute dedication of a woman in power.

“Bang Chan is ten leagues or so west of the Crescent.” She tapped a place on the map opened in front of them. “I have it on good authority he’s coming this way.”

Hongjoong studied the map with a calculating distaste. “If we leave tomorrow evening we can meet him on this side of the channel.”

The queen nodded. “That would be best. I’ll have my husband send a navy fleet to back you up.”

Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “No. I'd like to avoid the attention that would bring.”

Seonghwa traced the lines on the map with his eyes. This side of the channel put them in waters under his father’s jurisdiction. But engaging at open sea seemed unwise to Seonghwa. “If he’s coming here, we could wait for him. Meet on land. Work out some agreement.”

Hongjoong giggled, high and patronizing. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not going to work anything out.” The danger in his voice sent a chill down Seonghwa’s spine. Hongjoong spread his hand over the edge of the map, addressing the queen. “I’ll ask for two dozen men to come with me. Good gunners if you have them.” He glanced at Seonghwa. “I like a smaller, specialized crew for raids, but I would like numbers in our favor for this fight.”

“That sounds wise.” the queen agreed. “We have a small squadron training with muskets. From what I understand, they’re not very accurate or very quick, but perhaps they could be of service?”

Hongjoong nodded slowly. “That will do. Bayonets and swords as well.”

Seonghwa shifted in his seat, uncomfortable and restless. “How large is Bang Chan’s crew?”

“Hard to say,” Hongjoong sighed. “He has his seven as I do, but he also takes on anyone he deems useful for a moment.” He thought about it. “If memory serves, I shot his boatswain, you arrested his sharpshooter after he tried to drown you, and I slit his navigator’s throat last night.” A small, purse-lipped pause. “I didn’t see the man you killed-”

“I didn’t kill him,” Seonghwa insisted. “I didn’t- I could have, but I--” It weighed so heavy on his conscious. He didn’t kill him. Just forced a sword through his leg hard enough to break bone and pin him to the flowerbed. Just tore such an agonized scream from his lungs it still chilled Seonghwa’s blood.

Hongjoong hummed dismissively. “He didn’t make it to the noose.”

Seonghwa stared into the flame of the oil lamp illuminating the study. “His name was Han,” he remembered quietly.

Hongjoong made an impressed noise. “Then that takes care of the sailing master too.” He leaned forward over the table. “But it’s the first mate we’ll need to be cautious of. Changbin, unless something’s changed. I think that leaves Hyunjin and Minho. Dangerous, but not as good as San and Yunho.”

Seonghwa kept his mouth shut. He had too much blood on his hands already to tell his husband he overheard Changbin’s desire to kill him and be done with it. He’d tell his mother later and she could have him arrested quietly. He didn’t like to think of Hongjoong as a murderer and he felt emotionally raw already. What he wanted was for Hongjoong to hold him and touch him softly and say sweet things and kiss his cheeks and call him ‘love’ and show him kindness.

“Which one killed Maddox?” he wondered, voice breaking on the name.

Sympathy behind Hongjoong’s dark eyes. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart, we’re going to kill them all.”

And maybe that should have been comforting, but it made Seonghwa feel sick. He looked at his mother, who shook her head gently. “It’s the same as a noose,” she said, covering Seonghwa’s hand on the table. “More efficient. Perhaps more merciful.”

But it wasn’t the same as a noose. It wasn’t anything like a noose. A hanging meant justice had been served. A hanging meant a criminal had been tried and found guilty. A hanging meant the law had been enforced, and served as a warning to dissuade others from following the same path to destruction.

There was no justice in pirates slaughtering pirates. Thieves stabbing murderers. Scum killing villainy.

“I’d like a new sword,” Seonghwa interrupted whatever Hongjoong had been saying to the queen. “The soldiers’ blades are too stiff and my rapier is too flimsy. It was meant for decoration.” He met Hongjoong’s eyes. “I want a sturdy weapon, Captain.”

Hongjoong blinked twice before he shook his head. “You’re not coming with us, darling. You’ll stay here where it’s safe.”

“It’s obviously not safe here.” Seonghwa pulled his hand away from his mother’s and gripped the side of the table. “You can’t leave me.” Too much panic leaked into his voice.

Hongjoong’s brow creased and he opened his mouth to argue, but the queen spoke first. “Seonghwa should stay with you, Captain.” And no one could argue with her unyielding gentleness. “I believe there is no safer place for him than at your side.”

Hongjoong frowned, but Seonghwa felt vindicated. “I can hold my own,” he said. “I can fight. I’d just like a better sword.”

The queen reached over the table to pat his shoulder. “We’ll get you a sword, my son. The best they can make.”

When they returned to Seonghwa’s bedroom, Hongjoong kicked off his boots and left them in the middle of the floor. “Your safety is my first priority.” he shrugged off his jacket and left it in a heap next to his shoes. “This isn’t going to be like the fights you’ve seen. This is personal. We’re going to make sure it hurts.”

“I’m good with a sword, you’ve said so yourself.” Seonghwa placed the discarded boots against the wall and toed off his shoes next to them. “And I’ve been saying for a long time that I feel safest at your side.”

“You’ve been saying that?” Hongjoong paused with his shirt halfway off.

Seonghwa looked away, draping the discarded jacket over the back of a chair. “Maybe not out loud,” he admitted. "Not to you."

Hongjoong scoffed and tossed his shirt aside. “You don’t tell me anything.” He splashed water from the basin in the corner on his face. “You didn’t tell me you wanted to kiss me like that. All… possessive.” He looked at Seonghwa. “I wouldn’t have stopped you if you tried, but you didn’t tell me you felt that way.”

Seonghwa hung his own jacket neatly in the armoire. “Why would I tell you that?”

He felt Hongjoong’s stare on his back as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. “Why wouldn’t you tell me how you feel?”

He shrugged the waistcoat off and hung it in the armoire. “Because you don’t care.”

His back hit the wall before he realized Hongjoong pushed him, and the hand around his throat squeezed just tight enough to steal his breath.

“Never accuse me of apathy, Seonghwa,” he growled. “I do care. I care so fucking much.” He grabbed a fistful of Seonghwa’s shirt and threw him toward the bed. “You’re out of warnings. Strip. Lay back against the pillows.” His orders left no room for argument.

Seonghwa’s hands trembled as he pulled his shirt over his head. Fear chilled him, but a jittery heat settled low in his stomach. He pushed off his trousers and folded them quickly. Hongjoong unscrewed the lid of the jar of coconut oil while Seonghwa stepped out of his undergarments and perched himself against the pillows on his bed, legs drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them.

Hongjoong looked at him darkly. “You think I don’t care about you? Think I don’t want to know what you’re thinking all the fucking time?” He pulled Seonghwa’s legs down and apart. “Darling, I’m going to make you cum so hard your ancestors feel it.” He crawled into the space between Seonghwa's legs. “And you’re going to tell me how you feel every step of the way.”

Seonghwa reached out to brace his hands against Hongjoong’s chest. “Wait,” he begged, “Wait, please, I don’t want you to fuck me.”

It occured to Seonghwa that he felt the same apprehension he felt in this same bed on his wedding night. But everything had changed since then and the apprehension took on a different form. Hotter and less hesitant. More aware of the acute pleasure he could feel under Hongjoong’s cruel hands.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “No, love. I wouldn’t.” He reached past Seonghwa to set the open jar of oil on the side table. “I don’t need to fuck you to ruin you,” he murmured under his breath.

“What are you going to do to me?” He trembled with something he would not call excitement, but couldn’t call fear.

Hongjoong spread his warm hands over the tops of Seonghwa’s thighs. “You were upset once because you listened to Wooyoung. He told you I was mean.” His thumbs pressed into the tense muscle of Seonghwa’s thighs, massaging just this side of pain. “I am mean.” He continued to massage Seonghwa’s thighs, moving to find new spots of tension. “But you like it when I’m soft, don’t you, love?”

“Yes, Captain.” Seonghwa’s voice came out weaker than he intended and he closed his fists in the sheets beside him.

The harsh pressure faded to light touches; strokes of his fingertips, the light, ticklish scratch of his nails. “Do you trust me, Seonghwa?” When Seonghwa didn’t answer immediately, he elaborated. “Do you trust me to take care of you? To make you feel good?”

“Yes, Captain.” Seonghwa shivered and goosebumps rose on the sensitive skin of his inner thighs when Hongjoong’s hands passed over it too lightly.

Warm breath ghosted over his mouth when Hongjoong leaned down to brush their noses together. “Sweet prince, you like it when I tease you?” His hands smoothed solidly over Seonghwa’s waist and his thumbs pressed into the skin over his hip bones.

Seonghwa tilted his head up just barely to kiss him. “Yes, Captain.” He couldn’t honestly call the hot feeling in his gut apprehension. Seonghwa didn’t feel afraid. Not apprehension, but anticipation.

Hongjoong’s hands climbed up his chest and his palms skidded over his nipples and made him gasp. Hongjoong swallowed the sound with another slow kiss and raised his head to look at Seonghwa with dark, bottomless eyes. “I’m going to tease you, my darling.” His thumb skimmed the edge of Seonghwa’s jaw. “I’m going to show you how much I care.”

“Please, Captain,” Seonghwa breathed. His chest felt fluttery and tight. He wanted to believe Hongjoong cared. He wanted so badly to be married to someone who cared. He wanted with a deep, nameless desire that ached in his bones when Hongjoong touched him like this. Careful. Fond. Reverent.

Another soft kiss that stole Seonghwa’s breath. “Don’t worry, my love. I’m here. I’ve got you.” A few more soft kisses as his hands wandered Seonghwa’s body. “You like this, don’t you, beautiful? You like when I touch you like this?”

Seonghwa sighed heavily when light fingertips traced up his forearm. “Yes, Captain.” He liked the way Hongjoong’s eyelids fluttered when he used the title. He felt proud to notice the beginning of a tent in Hongjoong’s trousers. And he made a small sound when Hongjoong brushed a careless thumb over his stiff nipple.

He would have a litany of marks on his neck and shoulders if the way Hongjoong’s teeth scraped over his skin was any indication. “Tell me how you feel, precious.” His tongue soothed a stinging bite over Seonghwa’s collarbone.

Seonghwa’s hand threaded through Hongjoong’s hair and twisted the long strands at the back around his fingers. “I feel so good,” he sighed. “I hope it's not too much trouble-” He cut himself off with a high whine when Hongjoong’s soft tongue dragged over his sensitive chest.

Hongjoong knew exactly how to make Seonghwa’s mind feel clouded and mushy. “It’s never any trouble, love.” He raised his head to look at Seonghwa, dark hunger written all over his face. “You don’t ask for nearly enough. I start to think you don’t want me.”

“No, I do,” Seonghwa protested, eyes wide, tightening his hand in Hongjoong’s hair and bringing his other hand to his shoulder. “I do want you. I always want you.”

Hongjoong giggled, high and breathy. “Then tell me so.” He smoothed the backs of his fingers down Seonghwa’s cheek. “I don’t want to take advantage of you. I love it when you’re confident and demanding.”

Seonghwa trembled with the swoop of his heart. He didn’t know Hongjoong felt that way. He might be right, that they should be more open about the way they feel.

He rested his hands tentatively at Hongjoong’s shoulders. “I- Can I have your fingers?” Seonghwa whispered. “Please, Captain?”

A hungry, gratified smile showed Hongjoong’s sharp teeth. “Of course, darling. But not just yet.” He traced his fingertips up Seonghwa’s throat and slowly closed his fist so it rested firm and solid over Seonghwa’s skin, but didn’t cut off his air. “We’re going to take our time tonight, sweet prince.”

Seonghwa covered his hand at the base of his neck. “I like it when you hold me like this,” he confessed.

Another small giggle widened the smile on Hongjoong’s face. “I know.” He left his hand there while he dragged his mouth over every inch of skin between Seonghwa’s shoulders and hips, whispering sweet praise and filthy desires as he went. “You’re so hard for me, beautiful.” His hot breath over Seonghwa’s length curved against his stomach made him shiver. “Talk to me, Hwa. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Seonghwa drew a couple sharp breaths before he could muster words. “I want- Please, Captain.” He swallowed thickly, willing his voice to come out as more than a thin whine. “I think about the way you look at me sometimes,” he admitted. “Like you’re going to eat me raw. I think-” He took a shuddering breath. “I think you’re so handsome, but I don’t tell you because pirates aren't supposed to be beautiful, and I’m afraid you’ll be insulted.” Hongjoong sat up and blinked at him in shock, but Seonghwa couldn’t stop the words once they started. “And I think the way your head falls back and you curse under your breath when I have your cock in my mouth is the hottest thing in the whole world.” He exhaled a shy laugh and looked away. “And now I’m thinking about the way your cock feels in my mouth.”

A pause just long enough for Seonghwa to wonder if he said too much.

“Fucking shit, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong breathed, staring at Seonghwa like he’d never seen him before. “How the fuck are you real?” He leaned down to cup his face. “You really think I’m handsome?”

Seonghwa pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Yes. You’re so beautiful.” He reached up a tentative hand to trace the curve of Hongjoong’s cheek. “I want- Could I please suck your cock?” His heartbeat raced past his ears. “If you’ll allow me, Captain.”

Hongjoong stared at him while a string of harsh expletives fell from his mouth in a hoarse whisper. He sat back shaking his head. “You don’t mean that. I’m not really upset with you. There’s nothing you need to make up for.”

His chest jumped with his quick breaths and Seonghwa found himself drawn to the swell of his pectorals. “May I touch you?” he asked. “Please, Captain?”

Hongjoong nodded vacantly, looking on in unguarded awe as Seonghwa spread a hand over his collarbone and dragged it over his chest. He must not be as sensitive as Seonghwa, but he still let his eyes fall closed with a sigh when Seonghwa rolled a nipple between his fingers.

Power buzzed under Seonghwa’s skin. Because he could make a savage pirate captain whine with a brush of his lips. “Will you take off your trousers?” He asked. “Please, I’d like to-”

“Fuck.” Hongjoong seemed to wake up, and pushed Seonghwa back down on the bed. “Look what you do to me,” his unsteady voice sounded just a touch desperate. “I’m trying to prove how much I care about you and you’ve got me out of my fucking mind.”

Seonghwa couldn’t form a response before Hongjoong wrapped his mouth around Seonghwa’s dick and sank so deep Seonghwa could feel the back of his throat spasm around the sudden intrusion.

Everything felt too intense and Seonghwa tangled his fingers through Hongjoong’s hair, tugging to slow him down. But Hongjoong didn’t slow. Seonghwa felt the coil of heat in his stomach winding too tight too fast. “Hongjoong,” he gasped. “Captain, I’m- Please, I’m close.”

In the next moment, Hongjoong sat back wiping saliva from his mouth on the back of his hand while the impending euphoria of Seonghwa’s orgasm faded back to a dull heat. Seonghwa gaped like a fish.

He made a pained noise and blinked at Hongjoong in betrayal. “I didn’t- I-” He wrapped a hand around himself, needing the stimulation, but Hongjoong knocked it away.

“I know, my dearest.” He pinned Seonghwa’s wrists to the bed beside him. “Just trust me, alright? You said you trust me.”

Seonghwa took a moment to catch his breath, head reeling. “You’re edging me,” he realized. “Like Wooyoung.”

“No,” Hongjoong cooed, rubbing soothingly over Seonghwa’s thighs. “Not like Wooyoung at all. And I don’t want anyone else on your mind right now, my love.” Almost a threat.

Seonghwa felt too needy and too wound up for the critical thinking it would take to parce out the motivations for Hongjoong’s possessiveness.“Please take off your trousers, Captain,” he pleaded. “I want to suck your cock.”

Hongjoong's head tipped back to look up at the ceiling for strength. "I thought you wanted my fingers."

Seonghwa's mouth pulled into a pout. "I do." He wrapped his hands around Hongjoong's waist to see if he would stop him. He didn't. "I also want to watch how good I make you feel." Seonghwa began to unfasten the trousers.

Hongjoong looked like he wanted to protest, but couldn't think of a reason. When the trousers slipped past his hips, he sprang free, just as hard as Seonghwa. That did something to Seonghwa's chest, and he spread his hand to trap Hongjoong's dick against his stomach as he crawled forward to kiss him.

A small noise from Hongjoong's throat encouraged Seonghwa to grip his jaw with his free hand and lick into his husband's mouth. He swallowed another helpless noise, and Hongjoong wrapped his arms around his shoulders and waist to pull him closer. He rocked his hips against Seonghwa's hand and dug his fingertips into his back.

Power sizzled under Seonghwa's skin and made him bold. "Do you like it when I kiss you, Captain?" He trailed his lips over the sharp edge of Hongjoong's jaw. "Do you like it when I touch you?" He curled his fingers around Hongjoong's dick.

Hongjoong shuddered, breathing hard. "I do," he said. "You don't even know-" he cut himself off with a gasp when Seonghwa pressed his thumb just under the head of his dick. He rolled his hips into Seonghwa's fist and lifted his head with the most debauched look on his face. Half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, pink lips parted around short, quick breaths. It set a fire in Seonghwa he didn't know he was capable of feeling. "Seonghwa?" Half a moan. "Tell me you understand how much you mean to me and how I-" he shivered and bit his lip against another low sound that sent shockwaves of desire through Seonghwa's body. "I'm so- so fucking fond of you. Do you understand?"

Seonghwa kissed him. Sweet and intentional. "I think I'm beginning to." He released Hongjoong's dick and laid back against the pillows, open and unashamed. He ducked his chin alluringly. "How do you want me, my pirate?"

Hongjoong stared at him, trying to decipher the question. Seonghwa didn't back down, didn't look away. Hongjoong took an unsteady breath. "On your hands and knees."

It sounded like a question, but Seonghwa complied with only a small spark of fear, turning over so his knees sank into the mattress. He felt vulnerable and exposed, but arched his back a little anyway. Hongjoong would take care of him. He trusted his husband. He believed that Hongjoong cared.

Warm hands nudged his legs farther apart and spread sweet-smelling coconut oil between his thighs, avoiding his ass. He looked over his shoulder. "What's that for?"

Hongjoong rested his hands on Seonghwa's hips and looked at him with an unguarded honesty that took Seonghwa's breath. "I promise I'll take care of you, Hwa. However you want. Whatever you want, love, just name it." He squeezed Seonghwa's hips slightly. "But allow me this selfishness just once." He pushed Seonghwa's legs back together and kissed the center of his back as if Seonghwa were made of glass and might shatter any moment. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you."

Seonghwa believed him. His thighs tensed when the hard girth of Hongjoong's cock pushed between them, slick with more oil, but he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The heat of Hongjoong’s skin as he leaned over Seonghwa's back felt comfortable and welcoming.

Safe

"Hongjoong?" His voice came out more sure than he expected it to. A hum of reply, but he could feel his husband tense. "Would you please- if you don't mind, or-"

"Tell me what you want, sweet prince."

Seonghwa turned over his shoulder to see Hongjoong's face and steeled himself. He could say the words. He could ask for what he wanted. "I want you to fuck my thighs as though you were making love to me."

Hongjoong’s mouth worked around soundless words. “You want me to…” He looked so totally disarmed, so completely raw, Seonghwa wondered if he might cry. His hands shaped over Seonghwa’s hips and waist while his lip trembled. “You know I care, don’t you?” Seonghwa almost didn’t catch the whispered words. “You know how much I- How much you mean to me? How important you are to me?”

“Yes, Captain.” Seonghwa thought he did understand. With the throbbing heat of Hongjoong’s dick between his thighs and the defenseless, unadulterated adoration on Hongjoong’s face, Seonghwa thought he understood.

“Seonghwa,” And the way he spoke the name; breathless, helpless, and reverent. “My love…”

Seonghwa rolled his hips back, still needy and a little more desperate than he wanted to admit to himself. “Make love to me, Captain.”

Hongjoong inhaled sharply and nodded, adjusting his hold on Seonghwa’s hips. “Keep your legs together for me.” He rocked forward a few times and the smooth glide of the oil felt nice on Seonghwa’s skin.

The gradual build of momentum wrapped Seonghwa’s mind in a haze, but he kept his thighs pressed tightly together. Each long, deep stroke of Hongjoong’s dick hit the backs of his balls and coaxed small whimpers from his throat.

This shouldn't feel as good as it did. It shouldn't make his arms shake and his eyelids flutter. It shouldn't sent hot shivers through his body, or push him toward the sheer cliff of relief. But it did. Oh, it did.

Hongjoong didn’t attempt to hide his pleasure either. “Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good. You’re so precious, darling.” But it didn’t have the same composure as his usual filth. He sounded lost, fucked out, a little delerious.

He wrapped a solid hand around Seonghwa’s dick when Seonghwa collapsed to his elbows, arms trembling too much to hold him up.

“Got me out of my fucking mind, Hwa,” Hongjoong gasped, pumping his fist in time with his accelerating thrusts. “My beautiful prince. My- fuck, I’m so close, honey.”

Seonghwa’s eyes fell shut, face pressed into the sheets, hands curled into fists. He knew he might snap any moment, might plummet from the heavens at speeds to shame the birds. He felt hot and breathless and shaky, but sparks burst behind his eyelids and every nerve in his body sang. “Please,” he panted. “Please, Joong. I want to cum like this. Make me cum, Captain.”

He heard a garbled moan that might have been his name before he felt the slick heat of Hongjoong’s release between his thighs as Hongjoong rode out his high. But it was the thought of Hongjoong finishing because Seonghwa made him feel good that pushed Seonghwa over the edge.

Seonghwa fell through shooting stars and comets, through clouds and rain and floating petals. Falling felt like flying until the bone-crushing impact. Seonghwa’s mind stayed blessedly empty for a moment, collapsed on the sheets with the warm weight of his husband halfway across his back.

Hongjoong recovered first and shifted to reach a damp cloth from the basin. He rolled Seonghwa over gently and cleaned him up softly, mumbling reassuring nonsense and cooing over the slight irritation on the inside of his thighs. “I’m sorry, I should have used more oil.” Hongjoong kissed the tender skin. “I’ll find some ointment.”

It took a great deal more effort than it should have for Seonghwa to move his arm and flap around to find Hongjoong and stop him from standing up. “No, don’t leave me,” he groaned into the sheet. “It’s fine. I’m fine, just stay.” He peeled his eyes open to see his husband lean over him and pet the hair away from his face. “Stay with me.”

“I’m here, love. I’m not going anywhere.” The soft smile that crinkled the edges of Hongjoong’s eyes filled Seonghwa’s lungs with water so fast he couldn’t even begin to cough it up.

Panic made him grasp at Hongjoong’s hands and try to sit up. “I’m drowning,” he gasped. “I’m drowning.”

Hongjoong hushed him with gentle concern. “You’re safe, Seonghwa. You’re not drowning. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

Warmth spread to each of Seonghwa’s fingertips and filled him with a fluttery sort of hysteria that stung behind his eyes and sat like a lump in his throat. “Hongjoong,” he blinked his tears away and clung to his pirate.

Seonghwa thought falling in love must be a little like drowning. But he didn’t know what would happen now that he floated limply in the water. So he held onto Hongjoong like a lifeboat and hoped for the best.

“The bird understands complex commands,” Siyeon explained to Jiu’s husband across the table.

Chanyeol’s forehead creased with confusion and Yeosang patted him on the shoulder. “Like you’re trained to do whatever princess Jiu tells you. It’s the same principle.”

Yunho elbowed Yeosang hard in the ribs, while Wooyoung giggled from the other side of the table and Jiu turned every shade of red.

“I’m sure the world would be a better place if everyone listened to the princesses,” Yunho said to smooth the room. Seonghwa didn’t miss his glance at Gahyeon or Gahyeon’s small smirk.

He nudged his sister. “You know he’s a criminal, right?” he hissed. “I’ve seen him run men through with his sword.”

Gahyeon hummed. “I’m sure he’s a savage in a fight, but he is a gentleman when it suits him.”

Seonghwa clicked his tongue and reached for his wine. “I will arrest him if he looks at you oddly.”

A light snort hidden behind Gahyeon’s hand. “For admiring my irresistible charm? That's a terrible reason to hang.” She giggled and leaned closer to whisper. “Though if I had to guess, I’d say he’s hung.”

Seonghwa choked on his wine and waved the server over to refill his glass.

Yoohyeon tapped the table beside Seonghwa's plate. "Is Gahyeon sleeping with that pirate? The tall one with shells in his hair?" she whispered.

Seonghwa froze with his wine glass halfway to his mouth? "Is that a possibility?" he gritted through clenched teeth.

Yoohyeon shrugged noncommittally. "They've been undressing each other with their eyes all week." She poked at her food. "I figured something would give before you sail away again."

Seonghwa took a long drink of his wine, even if it was drier than he liked. The bitter taste settled over his teeth and turned his expression sour, aimed at Yunho, who conveniently ignored him.

"Seonghwa." The king's voice startled Seonghwa and made all his sisters lift their heads in unison. "A prince does not overindulge in food or wine."

Seonghwa looked down at his plate and the half empty glass in his hand. "I don't- I've not eaten more than my share and this is only my second glass of wine," he tried to defend himself.

The king’s tone could cut stone. "A prince does not make excuses."

Seonghwa flinched. He could feel Hongjoong's eyes on him, but he didn't look up as he set the glass down. "Yes, sir."

"You've lost your manners in the company of heathens." The king glared down his nose at the pirates. "Captain Hongjoong, you've ruined my son."

Hongjoong picked up a piece of bread and sighed heavily. "Not nearly as often as I'd like to, Majesty."

Beside Seonghwa, Yoohyeon gasped and Gahyeon smacked his thigh under the table. “Father is a terrible mood already, it’s not safe to push him,” Yoohyeon mumbled.

“If your pirate kills our father, I’m sailing on the ship with you.” Gahyeon whispered conspiritorially. “Yunho would allow it.”

Seonghwa exhaled an indignant huff because why did Gahyeon know his name? And the thought of her on the pirate ship made his skin crawl. “Women on boats are bad luck,” he hissed.

“He will not return with you.” The authority in the king’s voice made it an absolute. “My son will remain in the palace.”

“No,” Seonghwa protested, a gut reaction more than anything else. When he realized he spoke out loud, he straightened his back and bit his lip. “I believe the safest place for me is at my husband’s side-”

“You’re going to stay here and perform your duties as a crown prince.” The king’s fist hit the table and Seonghwa flinched in sync with his sisters. “You’re going to find a girl and secure your lineage.”

“Jiu’s son is my heir.” Seonghwa looked at his half-filled wine glass instead of his father, but his voice didn’t waver. “I will not have a paramour.” He felt Hongjoong’s gaze and looked up to see an odd expression on the Captain’s face.

The king’s fist hit the table again and Seonghwa looked down at his plate. “You will.” The king insisted. “This defiant streak must end immediately. A prince plays his role and fulfuls his duties. This selfish insubordination cannot continue.”

Seonghwa’s heartbeat echoed in his ringing ears. He had duties and obligations. He’d already skirted them for ‘fun’ and adventure. He was never meant to marry a pirate.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but Hongjoong spoke first. “I don’t claim to know much about princes and palaces.” No humor in his tone, and he spoke directly to Seonghwa. “But I know you’re a far better man than me. And farbeit from me to hold you back.”

Seonghwa’s chest constricted around his drowned lungs. Hongjoong would let him go. He left the choice to Seonghwa. But Seonghwa knew his choice.

He lifted his chin. A prince stands tall and proud. A prince makes the most of every opportunity to defend his country. A prince acts with a clear mind and clean conscious. A prince does not cower in the face of scum and villainy.

“I am most useful to my people alive and I am most likely to stay that way if I return to sea with my husband.” Seonghwa spoke with confidence he didn’t know he was capable of.

The king’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You’re the best swordsman in the Five Kingdoms. You’re perfectly safe.”

A small smile tugged the corners of Seonghwa’s mouth. “Thank you, father. But I am not the best on the seas.” He couldn’t remember the last time his father admitted his ability in anything. “My power and influence is greater from my husband’s ship as well.” He nodded at his mother. “Even as a prince, I hold sway over kings because they know you would defend me should anything happen.”

The king’s face contorted through a few emotions and landed on fury. “And why would I defend my contentious, obstinate son?”

Power prickled under Seonghwa’s skin. Enough to make his heart race. “Because a king puts his country first. A king considers his people. And a king does not throw power to the side for petty disagreements.”

Gahyeon and Yoohyeon inhaled sharply and looked at Seonghwa with panicked alarm. He could still feel Hongjoong’s gaze, but he didn’t look away from his father’s smoldering anger.

“Petty disagreements?” he repeated. “The future of the kingdom is a petty disagreement to you?”

Seonghwa lifted his chin. “Jiu’s son is my heir. I will remain by my husband’s side.”

“Your husband is a wanted criminal. A murderer.” The king’s fist hit the table again, but Seonghwa did not flinch. “You would stand complacent to his crimes?”

“I cannot be called complacent to murder.” Seonghwa spoke with authority he’d never weilded before and it felt intoxicating. The power under his skin sparked and popped. “My husband’s crimes are the very reason you arranged our marriage, and the very source of our influence over the Five Kingdoms.” Seonghwa spared a glance at Hongjoong, who watched him with enraptured admiration. “Should he renounce his ways, we would lose a great deal of power.”

The king sputtered, red in the face with rage. “He is a filthy, low-life pirate!”

Seonghwa braced his hands on the edge of the table, leaning toward his father at the other end. “And I am a highborn crown prince.”

“I’ll have them executed. All of them.” An empty threat.

“You made a treaty.” Seonghwa snarled. “You gave your word.”

“I gave my word to my people to keep them safe from pirates-”

“The people have not suffered a pirate attack since our wedding-”

“The people hate to see their prince arm in arm with vermin-”

The chair scraped the floor behind Seonghwa as he stood and hit the table with the flats of his hands. “Father, I love him.”

A collective gasp stole the air from the room. The king gaped, red in the face and dumbstruck. The pirates looked between Seonghwa and the king with entertained detachment, and Seonghwa’s sisters looked at him with unfiltered awe and terror.

Seonghwa made the mistake of glancing at Hongjoong. He blinked at Seonghwa with his mouth ajar, shock and bewilderment written on his sharp features.

“I love him,” Seonghwa repeated, and pulled his chair back in to take his seat. “I love him, and I won’t hear any more slander on his upbringing or his character.” Power rang in Seonghwa’s ears, vibrating under his skin in a way it never had before. He felt lighter, free in some way. He brought a bite of food to his mouth and ignored the stares.

He loved his husband. No one could fault him for that.

Chapter Text

Seonghwa sliced his new sword aimlessly through the sticky air. Not a cloud in the sky, but the sun beat down and pulled steam from the recently swabbed deck of the Horizon. Sweat plastered Seonghwa’s overgrown hair to the back of his neck and made his shirt stick to his skin in odd places. Sweat also made his grip on the soft leather hilt uncomfortable.

As promised, the sword was beautiful; a pointed pommel sharp enough to do damage if Seonghwa hit someone over the head with it, a sturdy blade flexible enough, but not flimsy, a sweeping knuckle-bow that Seonghwa suspected the smith intended more for decoration than function, but he had to admit, it did look pretty. Exactly what he asked for.

But Yunho had been too busy to entertain him and the two dozen extra soldiers on the ship made it feel too small. In the two days since they left port, he’d already fought every soldier who dared to accept his challenge and humiliated them all so thoroughly, that he ruined his chances of a rematch to pass the time.

He still didn’t like to approach his husband at the helm, or pouring over maps with Mingi and Yeosang, or discussing strategy with Yunho and Jongho, so he occupied himself with tidying the cabin. And Hongjoong’s quarters. And the galley. And the supplies in the hold. And when he found a pile of used pistol rounds in a dusty corner under the stairs to the forecastle, he sat in the shade of the upper deck and threw them at the parrot. The bird seemed to like the game of avoiding the rounds and brought some of them back clamped in its sharp beak for Seonghwa to throw again.

Now, in the boiling afternoon sun, Seonghwa was bored. And hot. And irritable.

He sliced the air with his sword as if that would rid him of his aggression.

It did not.

The parrot dropped a chunk of wood on the ground at Seonghwa's feet, squawking "Prince," and a long series of "Fuck you's."

Seonghwa threw the chunk of wood and the parrot dodged it, then tried to land on Seonghwa's arm. He batted the bird away and sliced the empty air at his side.

He could use the sword as an excuse to enter the navigation room. Even sitting at Hongjoong's feet and listening to sailing terms he didn't understand would be better than melting away under the hot sun doing nothing.

He passed Yunho and Jongho doing something very important with the ropes, but doubled back after he passed to lean behind the stairs and hear what they could possibly be saying about his sister.

“She did, I swear,” Yunho sounded excited in a way Seonghwa only saw in the anticipation-filled moments before a fight. “She said if I wrote her and sent the bird she would write back.” Jongho scoffed, but Yunho continued. “We’d have to be close enough for Fix to fly to the palace, but we are sometimes. When we’re near Aurora.”

Seonghwa suspected Gahyeon and he frowned deeply, sweeping the sweaty hair from his forehead.

“And then what happens?” Jongho asked. Something heavy hit the deck with a dull thud. “You write back a forth a little. I can’t imagine we’ll be welcome at the palace any time soon.”

“They can’t kick Seonghwa out. They have to let him visit. Even if none of the rest of us can go in.” Yunho reasoned, still excitable. “She snuck onto our ship once, she could do it again.”

Seonghwa glowered. The last thing Gahyeon needed was a secret romance with a pirate. He could imagine the scandal when someone found the letters. She might be disinherited. Depending on the king’s mood, he might consider it treason.

Seonghwa walked away before he heard any more. He wanted his husband to pet his sweaty hair and tell him nothing bad would happen. That nothing could hurt him on this ship.

"Can't eliminate the possibility…" Hongjoong trailed off when Seonghwa stepped into the navigation room. "What do you need, my dear?" he asked, but his smile felt tense and his posture looked awkward leaned over the map on the table.

Seonghwa crossed the room to set his new sword in the corner with a couple of Yunho's. "Just putting this away." He paused beside Hongjoong on the way back to the door. "I think I'll die of boredom," he spoke low so Yeosang wouldn't hear, and leaned in to wrap his arms around his husband. "I've resorted to playing fetch with Mingi's demon bird."

Hongjoong raised a hand between them to stop him with a nervous giggle. "You're a sweaty mess, Seonghwa." His hand hovered as if he debated touching Seonghwa's shoulder, but he dropped his hand and took a step away. "Why don't you take a bath?" he suggested, not unkindly. But it felt unkind. Because it was a dismissal.

Rejection rattled sharply in Seonghwa's chest. It had been like this since they boarded the ship. Hongjoong had been stiff and distant. Seonghwa never should have said the word 'love'.

They never promised love.

Seonghwa took a breath and forced a smile. "Perhaps I will." He inclined his head with too much respect. "Good day, Captain."

Wooyoung's ink-covered bare chest glistened when Seonghwa entered the kitchen. He looked up in mild alarm with a knife in one hand and a large fish in the other. "Prince Seonghwa?"

Seonghwa leaned against the counter. "I need a bottle of wine. Maybe two." He ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. "And a bath. I can't imagine a good way to carry heated water to the Captain's quarters, but I don't want a hot bath anyway. Cool water would feel more refreshing in this hellish heat."

Wooyoung looked at him for a moment before he set the fish down. "Are you alright?"

Seonghwa frowned. "Wine." He tapped the counter with the flat of his hand. "A barrel of water." Another tap. "In my room as soon as possible."

He spun on his heel and climbed the stairs with more aggression than necessary.

Even if Hongjoong didn't love him back, he didn't have to be so stiff about it. Seonghwa kicked a pile of rope on his way to the Captain's quarters. Hadn't he said they should talk about how they feel? Didn't he all but beg to know what Seonghwa thought?

The far corner of the room, opposite the bed, now housed a large, heavy, wooden bathtub with a modesty screen painted in watercolor flowers. A small basket of oils and soaps sat on the floor beside it, a gift from Yoohyeon.

Seonghwa regarded the bath with disdain for a moment. It wasn’t the bath’s fault that Seonghwa made the rash and impulsive decision to declare his love for a pirate. Nor was it the bath’s fault that Hongjoong wouldn’t touch him. Not even while they slept.

Two soldiers carried a barrel of water in and filled the bath. Wooyoung left two bottles of wine like an appeasement offering. Seonghwa knew he should apologize, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He locked the door and peeled his clothes off. They would need to be washed. He could use the bathwater after he finished bathing.

The cool water soothed him and made breathing a little easier. He tipped his head back over the rim of the tub with his arms balanced on the sides. Heat always made him irritable. Hongjoong probably didn’t mean to act any differently. Probably, Seonghwa had been reading too much into it. Probably, Hongjoong still felt fondly about him.

He drank the wine from the bottle and the sweet taste heightened his optimism. He scrubbed his skin with pleasant soaps and shook his wet hair out of his face. The air outside the bath still felt hot and sticky and Seonghwa didn’t have anything better to do than prune up in cool water. Seonghwa didn’t have anything to do at all. So he soaked, sipping at his wine until the bottle grew light.

Hongjoong must still care. Seonghwa believed he cared. If the way he touched him had anything to say about it. Seonghwa ran a hand over the skin of his inner thigh, no longer red or irritated. Something in him wished the mark lasted longer. So he would have tangible proof that his husband cared.

Seonghwa set the empty wine bottle on the floor beside the bath and sloshed forward to try to reach the small table beside the bed without leaving the tub. The memory of the feeling of Hongjoong’s cock between his thighs made his head feel light and his chest feel empty. He wanted.

But he wouldn’t bother Hongjoong. Not after a clear dismissal. The tips of his fingers could just barely reach the jar of oil on the table. He managed to roll it toward himself and grinned triumphantly when he didn’t need to get out of the bath.

Situated on his knees, halfway bent over the edge of the tub, he could reach behind himself with an oiled finger. His eyes fell closed on an exhale as it went in much easier with the sweet oil. Sweet oil and sweet wine and sweet soap. If only he could have a sweet pirate, everything would be right.

Seonghwa lost himself in thoughts of Hongjoong. Hongjoong being possessive with a hand around Seonghwa’s throat. Hongjoong smiling kindly and petting Seonghwa’s hair. Hongjoong’s sneering growl when someone questioned his authority. The short, breathy noises and halted curses that fell from Hongjoong’s lips when Seonghwa did something right.

A harsh wave of desire crashed over him. He wanted to watch Hongjoong’s face while he fell apart. And if his cock felt so good just between his thighs, how much better must it feel inside?

Seonghwa wanted Hongjoong to fuck him.

He scrambled clumsily out of the bath. Surely the Captain wouldn’t be opposed to Seonghwa interrupting for something like this. Surely he would welcome the interruption. He said he wanted this. From the very beginning.

The sheer blouse and leather corset were right where Seonghwa hid them under the bed. He dried himself quickly and dressed in front of the mirror. He knew he looked good. A hand through his hair a smear of coconut oil on his lips. Irresistible. The corset tapered his waist and the sheer fabric of the blouse showed his skin underneath except where the rouching made it thicker. Hongjoong would like it.

Seonghwa strutted across the deck with confidence and authority. The door to the navigation room stood slightly ajar, so he pushed through with a grand flourish.

Yeosang and Mingi stared at him open-mouthed, but Hongjoong stood frozen over the map. “Seonghwa?” High and unsteady.

Seonghwa draped himself around his husband, pulling Hongjoong’s hands to the soft leather at his waist and pressing his lips to the skin under Hongjoong’s jaw. “You told me not to wear this until I’m ready to take your cock,” he made his voice as low and sultry as he could manage. “I want you, Captain.”

Hongjoong shuddered and pushed Seonghwa away enough to look at him. “Darling, sweetheart, what…” His eyes narrowed and he swept a thumb over Seonghwa’s cheek. “Are you feeling alright?” He pressed the back of his hand to Seonghwa’s forehead. “You feel warm. Are you feverish?”

Seonhwa batted his hand away and pouted. “No. I’m not sick.” He didn’t look sick. He looked beautiful. He’d checked in the mirror. “I was fingering myself and I just thought-”

Yeosang coughed and Mingi took a few steps back. Seonghwa realized he shouldn’t have said that out loud and pouted harder, eyebrows drawing together.

“I just want you, Hongjoong,” he said, grabbing at Hongjoong’s shirt. “I’m ready and I want-” The ship swayed and Hongjoong had to squeeze Seonghwa’s waist to steady him on his feet.

The Captain didn’t look happy like he should. He looked mortified, a little pale, mouth working around soundless words before he said softly. “Seonghwa, have you been drinking?”

Seonghwa buzzed his lips and frowned. “I’m fine. I’m not sick.” He felt more than a little hurt that Hongjoong didn’t seem excited about this. He should have been excited. This should be the most exciting thing for him. "I'm not sick."

Mingi cleared his throat behind Seonghwa and Hongjoong glanced at him before he cupped Seonghwa’s face between his hands and swallowed heavily. “Seonghwa. My love…” he shook his head tightly. “You can’t get drunk on my ship.”

“I’m not drunk.” Seonghwa pouted. “I don’t- I only had some wine, that’s all.” He giggled suddenly at the pun. “I’m only whining because I had some wine.”

But Hongjoong must not get the joke, because he looked heartbroken. “You are not above the rules, my prince.” He pulled Seonghwa in to rest his face in the curve of his shoulder. “You can’t get drunk on my ship.”

Seonghwa realized what that meant after Hongjoong tugged him away from the helm and Yunho joined the rest of the crew and the soldiers on the deck with the cat-o-nine-tails whip coiled in his hand. He looked from Seonghwa to Hongjoong, concerned and confused. “Captain?”

Hongjoong’s hold on Seonghwa’s waist tightened. “I propose half the usual consequence.” His voice carried authority, but a bitter bite to it made his dissatisfaction clear. “Not because of Seonghwa’s station, but because I think he’ll learn his lesson in six.”

Murmurs throughout the crowd chilled Seonghwa despite the heat of the sun still beating down on them. “Hongjoong? No. I don’t want- I can’t- I don’t like it.”

The raw pain on Hongjoong’s face did not console Seonghwa in the slightest. “All in favor of six lashes instead of twelve.”

“No,” Seonghwa repeated, beginning to panic. “No, please, Captain.”

Enough ‘ayes’ made Hongjoong exhale sharply and squeeze Seonghwa’s waist. “Yunho.”

Yunho nodded and stepped closer with a rope to bind Seonghwa’s hands.

“No.” Seonghwa shook his head and clung to Hongjoong’s shirt. He felt too hot. They couldn’t do corporal punishment in this kind of heat. And now Seonghwa thought he might be sick. “No, no no no. Please, no.”

Hongjoong detangled Seonghwa’s fingers from his shirt and held his hands. “Yunho is going to tie your hands to the rigging.” His thumbs rubbed circles into Seonghwa’s wrists. “It’s for your safety. You can’t move around. He needs to know where you’re going to be.”

“No,” Seonghwa trembled, heat behind his eyes and up the back of his throat made him dizzy. “No, Captain, please. I don’t want it. I don’t like it. Don’t hurt me, please.” He choked on a harsh breath. “You promised. You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Hongjoong shut his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. “And I’m not. I’m not holding the whip.” He loosened the laces at the back of Seonghwa’s corset. “But there are rules. You knew the rules and you knew the consequences.” He unclasped the busk of the corset and handed it to Wooyoung standing close by. “I can’t save you from yourself.”

Seonghwa felt numb. Cold despite the burning sun. “But you’re the Captain.” He raised his arms obediently for Hongjoong to remove his shirt. “You make the rules.”

Pain flashed across Hongjoong’s face as he handed the shirt to Wooyoung. “The rules are what keep a ship running smoothly. The rules can save lives. They’re there because we need them.” He took Seonghwa’s hands again. “I am held to them just as much as every crew member. And you.” He shook his head. “You have to understand, Seonghwa. With all these soldiers…” He glanced around the crowded deck and extended his hand toward Yunho for the rope. “I need their respect and their loyalty. If I let this go unpunished, I lose that.” He frowned at the rope in his hand and cupped Seonghwa’s cheek. “This will hurt you for a little while. But if my crew doesn’t follow my orders, you could die.” He wrapped the rope around Seonghwa’s wrists. “And I’m not willing to risk that.”

He stepped back to give Yunho space to take the rope around Seonghwa’s wrists, but Seonghwa felt choked and anxious. Afraid in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. “No.” He followed Hongjoong. “Not Yunho.” He grasped Hongjoong’s arm with his bound hands. “Do it yourself.” It seemed only fair. Yunho wasn’t even allowed to touch him, why should he be allowed to whip him? “Whip me yourself.”

Hongjoong shut his eyes and mouthed a few curses. “Darling, I've barely touched a whip since I became Captain.” He removed Seonghwa’s hands from his arm. “I could seriously hurt you. Yunho knows what he’s doing.” He looked at Yunho, who nodded solemnly. “Yunho will go easy on you. He won’t break skin. He won’t leave a scar.” Pointed words aimed at Yunho more than Seonghwa.

Yunho bowed his head. “Aye, Captain.”

Seonghwa’s heart hammered in his chest. “Then hold me.” He tugged at the ropes and his skin felt raw underneath. “I don’t want to be bound. Hold my hands. Stay with me.” He looked at the tiny wicked knots and frayed rope of the whip dangling by Yunho’s boots. Tight nausea lurched in his stomach and made his voice breathless. “Stay with me, Captain, don’t leave me. Please? You promised. You said you wouldn’t leave me and you said you wouldn’t hurt me…” But he never said he loved Seonghwa. They never promised love.

A nod at Yunho, and Hongjoong tugged him gently toward the rigging. “Hush, sweet prince. I’ll stay. I’m here.” He removed the rope and rubbed the red marks around Seonghwa’s wrists. “Stay still, alright?” He spoke softly. “Plant your feet. It’s only six. It will be over quickly.”

“Count for me, your Highness.” Yunho’s deep voice made Seonghwa shiver.

The warm hands around Seonghwa’s wrists squeezed, and the crack of the whip made Seonghwa gasp, but a fraction of a moment lagged between the sound and the sudden sharp, white-hot pain that raked down Seonghwa’s back.

A shaky exhale emptied Seonghwa’s lungs and he couldn’t seem to fill them again.

Hongjoong’s thumbs stroked the sides of his wrists. “Count, darling. You’re doing so well.”

“One.” Seonghwa forced the word out with more effort than should have been necessary.

“There, see?” Hongjoong cooed. “It’s not so bad.”

But it was so bad. Seonghwa felt frozen, paralyzed. The stinging pain didn’t fade before the next snap of the whip.

Fire across Seonghwa’s back. Burning and consuming and stealing the breath from his lungs. He felt dizzy. He felt sick. He thought a bad hangnail was the worst pain a person could feel. Or sore muscles from overexertion. Or shutting your fingers in the heavy library door. But nothing he ever felt held a candle to this.

Hongjoong squeezed his wrists and an attempt at an encouraging smile twisted his mouth.

“Two,” Seonghwa shuddered.

“Yes, my darling, you’re doing so well.” Hongjoong’s voice wrapped comfort around him, but Seonghwa couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

The third crack of the whip pulled a wounded noise from Seonghwa’s chest. Hongjoong gripped his wrists tighter as he swayed on his feet. “I can’t- I feel sick. I can’t breathe, I’m- God, it hurts.” His voice trembled with his body. His weak knees might give out any moment. "It hurts."

Hongjoong hushed him gently. “I know, dearest, I know. It’s alright, It’s almost over. Halfway there. You can do it. Stay with me, Hwa.” He kissed the top of Seonghwa’s hanging head. “Count, love. That was three.”

“Three.” It sounded tight and strained to Seonghwa’s own ears. He fought Hongjoong’s grip on his wrists. He wanted to run. Run to their bed and hide under the covers. Run all the way back to the palace and lock himself in the highest tower where he’d never see a pirate again.

But Hongjoong’s grip held strong. “You have to stay still. I’m here, honey, I’ve got you.”

The whip cracked again and Seonghwa’s knees gave out. Choked sobs shook his shoulders as Hongjoong knelt in front of him and cupped his cheek.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright. It’s alright.” His mouth twisted and his eyebrows knitted together in a pained grimace. “Say four, darling.” Seonghwa strangled out something that might have been the number and Hongjoong made a small wounded noise. He looked past Seonghwa at Yunho. “Faster.”

The whip cracked and Seonghwa cried out. He knew he was bleeding, the whip had torn skin on his back to ribbons in a ghastly, sadistic display of horror. It throbbed with every rapid heartbeat. He closed his fists through Hongjoong’s shirt and rested his forehead on them.

"I'm here, precious. It's alright. It's almost over." Hongjoong’s voice sounded unsteady. “Five. That was five. Only one more.”

Seonghwa made an effort to say, “Five.”

The next snap of the whip came immediately and Seonghwa screamed into Hongjoong’s shirt. He sobbed, so lightheaded and nauseous he couldn’t move. The pain consuming his back canceled out any other thoughts. It hurt.

“There, love. It’s over. It’s all done.” Kind words and soft kisses pressed to his head. Seonghwa babbled incoherently and Hongjoong petted his hair and rubbed the side of his neck. “I know, my darling, I know it hurts. I've got you. I love you, Seonghwa. I'm right here.” A gentle kiss to his forehead. “Can you sit up? I can carry you…”

But Seonghwa shook his head and the movement made him choke back bile.

“That’s alright, precious. Take your time.” he sat up straighter and his voice took on a harsh, commanding tone. “Dismissed.”

Footsteps on the deck seem to reverberate in the throbbing pain of Seonghwa’s back. He curled his fists tighter in Hongjoong’s shirt. “Hongjoong?” he sobbed.

“Yes, love, I’m here.” He lifted Seonghwa’s face between gentle hands.

Seonghwa felt his face crumple and his lip tremble. “Don’t leave me.”

Hongjoong looked so injured. "No, never, my love. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.” He brushed Seonghwa’s hair from his face and wiped his tears with the soft pads of his thumbs. “I love you. I've got you. It's alright, my darling prince. I love you."

Seonghwa cried harder.

He didn't register anything else until, lying on his stomach on their bed, Hongjoong forced a cup of water into his hands. "Drink, precious. You've been crying for a while. You'll dehydrate."

Seonghwa took a few shuddery breaths and drank a few gulps of water. A heavy medicinal smell filled the room and Hongjoong's warm hands spread a cool salve over Seonghwa's back.

"It's not bad, Hwa," he soothed. "It'll heal quickly. Yunho went very easy on you.”

Seonghwa whimpered pitifully while Hongjoong touched the raw skin on his back, even if the ointment brought some relief from the pain throbbing with his still-pounding heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and drained the rest of the cup. “I hope you proved your point,” he spat bitterly. “I hope it was worth it.”

Hongjoong knelt in front of him with a raw expression on his face. “Do you think I enjoy this?” His mouth twisted into a terrible sneer. “Do you think seeing you hurt like this doesn’t kill me?”

Seonghwa let his face fall against the sheet with a pained noise. “I don’t know what I think.” He sniffed twice before he registered the warm tears on his cheeks. “I don’t know anymore.”

Wind-chapped lips kissed the tears from his cheeks and warm, soothing hands cupped his head. “No, sweet prince, don’t cry. Don’t cry any more, precious.” Hongjoong sounded distraught. Heartbroken. Vulnerable. “It hurts. I know it hurts, Seonghwa. I wish I could take it away. But I’m right here, darling. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Seonghwa forced his sore eyes open to search his husband’s face for a lie. “We never promised love.” His voice came out hoarse and broken.

"Even so." Hongjoong cupped his cheeks and swept the pads of his thumbs over the tear tracks. “I didn’t promise love, but I give it freely.” He pressed his forehead to Seonghwa’s. “If you’ll accept it.”

Seonghwa inhaled a ragged breath. Pirates didn't fall in love and princes didn't wish they would. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” Hongjoong whispered. “Seonghwa, my darling, I love you.”

Seonghwa pushed him away, throat burning, but eyes dry. “I’m upset.” He chose his words carefully. “It hurts me that you’ve been so distant.” He met Hongjoong’s heartbroken eyes. “Every time you reject me cuts deeper than I’d like to admit, even to myself.” He covered Hongjoong’s hand on his face to hold it there. “If you love me, tell me so. As often as you can.” A breath rattled through his lungs and stirred the pain in his back. “And do not dismiss me. Show me kindness.” He let his eyes fall closed, breaths still unsteady. “That’s all I ask, my Captain.”

“I would bring you the moon if you asked.” Hongjoong’s voice sounded just as raw as Seonghwa’s. “You are right to be upset. I'm sorry for the way I treated you.” He sounded genuine as he kissed each of Seonghwa’s closed eyelids. “I just couldn’t bear to learn that you didn’t mean it when you told your father…” He trailed off and Seonghwa opened his eyes to see Hongjoong’s dark eyes shining, his lower lip quivering. “It kills me to see you hurt like this, it’s a knife through my heart.” His thumbs stroked Seonghwa’s cheeks softly. “I didn’t intend to fall in love with you, my prince. I didn’t intend…” He shook his head and ducked it to take a deep breath. “Did you mean it?” The question hung on a silver thread of silk, ready to break in a light breeze.

Seonghwa reached out to cup his husband’s face and sweep a thumb over his cheek. “We didn’t promise love.” Hongjoong looked at him with such a deep melancholy it struck him dumb for a moment. “But I give it freely as well,” he managed.

“Say it,” Hongjoong whispered. “Please.”

Seonghwa wet his lips. “I love you.”

As if a cord had been cut, Hongjoong collapsed. He buried his face in Seonghwa’s neck, soft sobs shaking his shoulders, hands clinging to Seonghwa’s arms. Seonghwa held him and inhaled the salt-fresh scent of the sea in his hair. Felt the wetness of his tears on his skin. Felt the broken apologies and promises whispered into his shoulder more than he heard them.

“It’s alright,” he found himself saying. “I’m here, I’ve got you. I love you, Hongjoong. You’re safe. You’re beautiful. You’re mine.”

Seonghwa held onto him like a lifeboat and thought that if falling in love was a little like drowning, then being loved in return must be a little like washing up on the beach. Disorienting and frightening in not knowing what to expect, but beautiful and safe and warm and wonderful.

Hongjoong was right - as per usual - and Seonghwa’s wounds mostly healed by the time they spotted Bang Chan’s ship Levanter on the horizon.

He’d all but forgotten about the fading stripes across his back by the time he convinced Hongjoong to fly a white flag and arrange a meeting with the other pirate Captain.

But the skin still felt raw where his blue waistcoat bunched his loose shirt against it. And the pearls at his neck declaring his innocence choked him a bit. And his silver earrings weighed his head down. And his shoes pinched his toes a little as he crossed the slim plank onto the Levanter. And his fingernails looked ragged and dirty as any pirate’s when he shook Bang Chan’s hand.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Hongjoong,” he said with the kind of false enthusiasm one used to trick small children into eating their vegetables. “Never took you as the type for loyalty,” he paused to take in Seonghwa’s appearance, and Seonghwa felt like he imagined a stud-horse felt in spring. “But I’m glad you settled down.”

Hongjoong snorted. “Cut the shit, Chan. You hate small talk as much as I do.”

“I’m so glad marriage hasn’t changed you.” A sly grin spread over Bang Chan’s face. He looked trustworthy in the way that quicksand looked solid before one sank too deep to escape. A strong nose and full lips. A sharp jaw and round cheeks. A red scarf covered his forehead and most of his hair.

He led them to the ship’s cabin - a confident swagger in his step - but stopped in front of the open door. “Since this is a diplomatic meeting, we won’t be needing weapons.” He withdrew two pistols and handed them to the sailor waiting by the door.

Hongjoong scoffed, but handed over a pistol and a knife to Yunho, who accompanied them for security.

Seonghwa knew he had more weapons than that, and he wasn’t foolish enough to think Bang Chan didn’t either. “I think we should leave all weapons outside.”

Chan’s eyebrows disappeared under his bandana. “Felix said you had some spunk to you.” He pulled a hand knife and a smaller throwing knife from his sleeves and handed them dramatically to the sailor. “There you are, Highness.”

Hongjoong shot Seonghwa a frown, but pulled a knife from his boot and another pistol from the back of his jacket and dumped them unceremoniously in Yunho’s arms.

Seonghwa cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.

Chan laughed. “So demanding, this one.” He reached into his long jacket and set a throwing ax on the growing pile of weapons in the sailor’s arms.

It took a nudge from Seonghwa for Hongjoong to give up the small crossbow tucked under his arm inside the heavy jacket.

Seonghwa decided any remaining weapons would be difficult enough to reach that it would give him time to find cover if this came to blows.

“Not so subtle to hide a pistol down the front of your breeches,” Hongjoong used a haughty tone Seonghwa only heard him use in the presence of the king.

Chan’s grin widened. “That’s my dick.”

Hongjoong sniffed with a knowing sweep of his eyes. “You’re not that big.” An iron grip around Seonghwa’s wrist pulled him into the cabin. “We don’t have time for a pissing contest,” Hongjoong said over his shoulder. “Every moment I spend on this dump of a ship is time I’m not dedicating to ruling the Five Kingdoms and the Seven Seas.”

The cabin looked much like the one on the Horizon, but smaller and more cluttered with mismatched chairs around a narrow table in the middle of the room. Seonghwa took a seat beside Hongjoong and Chan dropped into the chair opposite with a heavy, overcompensated drama.

“So you called this parlay to save your own skin and hand the pretty prince over without a fight?” He leaned over the table on his elbows.

Hongjoong’s amused smile looked dangerous. Seonghwa lifted his chin and spoke first. “We wanted to offer you the opportunity to surrender.”

Chan stared at Seonghwa in surprise for a moment, then exhaled a harsh laugh. “You’re just precious, aren’t you?” He tilted his head to the side and reappraised Seonghwa. “Did you teach him all these tricks yourself, Joong?”

Hongjoong drummed his fingers on the table. “He’s not a dog. He’s the single most powerful man alive right now.” He leaned forward over the table, face a few breaths from Chan’s. “And you’d do well to remember that.”

The corners of Chan’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t break eye contact. “Oh, I’m aware of his influence. I’ve been paid royally by kings for his capture.” He leaned in so their noses brushed. “And you’d do well to remember that.”

Seonghwa felt his heartbeat in his throat, but Hongjoong didn’t back away. “Good.” The cruel mirth in Hongjoong’s tone set Seonghwa’s teeth on edge. “I’d hate to kill you and not gain a fortune from it.”

Chan sat back with a sneer. “I’d like to see you try.” He regarded Seonghwa again. “I don’t want you to think all pirates are like Hongjoong.”

“No, I see very clearly that you’re a different brand of pirate altogether,” Seonghwa deadpanned. He sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for Hongjoong. His life might have gone very differently if he’d been married to any other pirate.

Chan pressed his lips together. “I would treat you the way you deserve, your Highness.” Too much respect in the title for it to be genuine. “Whatever you wish for would be yours.”

Hongjoong bristled, but Seonghwa placed a hand over his arm and sat forward. “I’m afraid I’m extremely high maintenance.” He tilted his head with a tight smile. “I have expensive taste and require a lot of attention.”

“And I’m sure I could lavish you with all the attention you want.” Chan braced an elbow on the table to prop his chin in his hand. “I’m sure this fool isn’t good enough for you.” He said it in a forced whisper as if Hongjoong couldn’t hear him. “Dumpy ship, motley crew, no real purpose except to scare people.”

Seonghwa looked around the cabin. As far as he could tell, Hongjoong’s ship seemed opulent in comparison. A broken, yellowed window pane let in a hot breeze that threatened to topple a stack of loose papers on the desk. Candlewax pooled on the floor underneath a large candelabra with stumpy yellow candles. Even the soot-black deck of the Horizon looked cleaner than the patchy sun-bleached cedar of the Levanter.

“Those aren’t quite selling points for you, Captain,” Seonghwa said calmly. “The Horizon is a beautiful ship, and better maintained than this outdated converted trade vessel.” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa with a mix of surprise and admiration. “I haven’t had the opportunity to meet the entirety of your crew,” Seonghwa continued, “But the ones who tried to drown me or run me through with a sword didn’t make the best impression.” Chan sat back in his chair, eyes narrowed at Seonghwa. But Hongjoong’s smile widened when Seonghwa glanced at him. “As for purpose,” he placed his hand on top of Hongjoong’s on the table, “My husband wanted absolute power. And I believe he’s achieved it.”

Hongjoong exhaled a breathy giggle. “Oh Seonghwa, I adore you.”

Chan scoffed. “Then you do have a weakness.”

“Oh, no.” Hongjoong picked at his fingernails. “I would consider my husband a great strength of mine. My better half as it were.” He looked up with a wide grin. “You should see him fight, Chan. It’s really something.”

“I thought you didn’t have time for this.” Chan drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m not going to surrender and I’m sure you’ll go batshit if I touch your silly prince. So what are we doing here?”

“Correct.” Hongjoong shifted to stand. “I wouldn’t have bothered, but Seonghwa wanted to give you a chance.”

Chan sniffed. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not about to face a noose for little prince playing dress-up.”

Seonghwa folded his hands on the table. “I’m afraid you’re wrong.” He would hang. Seonghwa would make sure of it.

“No,” Chan tilted his head with a sly smile. “You have no power here without Hongjoong to back you up. Wouldn’t it be a shame if something happened to him?”

In the blink of an eye, both pirates shot to their feet with pistols in their hands.

Seonghwa stood, head whipping between them until he realized they wouldn’t shoot unless further proked. He frowned at Hongjoong. “Where did you hide your pistol?”

Hongjoong’s mouth spread in a wide grin. “Same place he did.” He tilted his head. “Only my pistol is smaller than my dick.”

Chan growled, but Seonghwa stepped between them before either of them could shoot. “My Captain,” he bowed his head to Hongjoong. “Please go back to your ship. I assume there will be a firefight and I want to give you a head start.”

Hongjoong shifted his gaze between Seonghwa and Chan, pressed his mouth into a tight line, lowered his pistol, and nodded slowly. “If you touch a hair on his head I’ll make you beg for death,” he spat at Chan before he left.

Chan regarded Seonghwa coldly. “You’re not what I expected.”

That brought a smile to Seonghwa’s face and a sizzle of power under his skin. “Thank you.” He did not turn his back to Chan as he walked to the door. “But your bigger mistake was challenging the Pirate King.”

Chan exhaled a mirthless laugh. “I’ve crossed that harmless kitten before.”

Seonghwa pushed the door open with a hum. “But you haven’t crossed his prince.”

Cannons boomed, shaking the deck as Seonghwa paced in Hongjoong’s quarters. He couldn’t let Hongjoong kill Chan. It wouldn’t mean anything. Just another name on a list that not even Hongjoong kept track of. It wouldn’t be justice.

But Chan wouldn’t walk willingly to the gallows. Nor would he fall for an obvious trap. It would have to be something clever. Something witty.

Seonghwa paused in his pacing to make a note. He would need his mother’s help to pull this off. And Gahyeon’s if he wanted it to be clean. The crew would have to be on board too. And the bird…

He whistled to call the parrot and it swooped through the open window to land on the back of the chair. “Prince,” it squawked with a tilt of its head.

“Catch.” Seonghwa tossed his earring and Fix caught it in his beak.

“Good,” Seonghwa held out his hand. “Good boy.” The parrot dropped the earring into Seonghwa’s outstretched palm and Seonghwa stroked his head. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. You’re not so bad, are you?”

The parrot curled its head in and spread its feathers. “Fuck you.” But it didn’t have the same bite as it usually did.

Seonghwa bent over the small table to make another note. Gahyeon would be overjoyed.

The door flung open and Seonghwa startled into a defensive stance. But Hongjoong stood in the doorway looking like every one of Seonghwa’s fantasies. Sweat glistened at his temples and the hollow of his throat. The hunger in his dark eyes and the curl of his lips struck Seonghwa immobile.

“We won then?” Seonghwa guessed, voice a bit breathier than it should have been.

Hongjoong shut the door and locked it. “For now.” He took a swaying step toward Seonghwa. “We didn’t sink them.”

“Good.” Seonghwa set down his pen and reached up to undo his neck scarf, but paused with his fingers hooked under the lace fabric. “Do not kill him.”

“Am I taking orders from you now?” Hongjoong asked incredulously. “Bossy enough in front of Chan, I can’t have you forgetting who’s the Captain.” A threat hid in there somewhere.

Seonghwa took off the scarf, which caused his shirt to fall open a bit as he sank to his knees. “Please, Captain.” He really didn’t intend it to sound so seductive, but the desire on Hongjoong’s face made it worth it. “Don’t kill Bang Chan. Allow me to serve justice.”

Hongjoong stopped two steps away, looking down at Seonghwa. “I’ll kill him however humanely you ask, darling, but I must kill him.”

“He must hang,” Seonghwa countered. “Captain, I ask this of you; let him hang for his crimes. Do not dirty your hands.”

Hongjoong looked at him in silence for a moment. “It is not becoming for a prince to grovel before a pirate.”

“Come closer.” Seonghwa reached out to touch Hongjoong’s thighs when he stepped close enough. “You underestimate the ways I would become undignified for you.” He pressed his cheek to the front of Hongjoong’s trousers. His hands climbed to cup the swell of his ass and he turned his face to nose along the increasingly prominent length of Hongjoong’s cock.

Hongjoong sucked a sharp breath when Seonghwa pressed his hand over the bulge of his erection.

“Is this where you always keep your pistol?” Seonghwa blinked innocently up at him.

Hongjoong’s mouth fell open and his eyes glazed over. “Seonghwa,” He breathed. “I want you so bad, sweetheart. Want to make you cum on my cock. Fuck you so good, precious.” He caressed Seonghwa’s cheek. “Let me love you, my sweet prince.”

Seonghwa felt giddy and hot. “Yes.” He rose to his feet and cupped Hongjoong’s face. “Please, Captain.” He kissed his husband’s mouth softly, but deliberately. He’d never been more sure of something. “I want it. I want you to fuck me.”

Chapter Text

Euphoria.

The warmth of Hongjoong’s body so close to Seonghwa’s, the weight of his cock on Seonghwa’s tongue, the way he panted and cursed into the skin near Seonghwa’s hip... Bliss.

The cursing intensified when Seonghwa swallowed around him to keep from choking on his own saliva while he supported Hongjoong’s hips over his head. Seonghwa wanted him to fall apart. And every passing moment, the finger pressing halfway inside him felt more distracted and disjointed.

Seonghwa squeezed Hongjoong’s hips and hollowed his cheeks.

“Fucking shit, Hwa, Goddamn.” Hongjoong rolled away on the bed breathing hard as he maneuvered himself right-side-up and hovered over Seonghwa’s face. “Your mouth, your fucking mouth.” He dropped his face into Seonghwa’s chest.

“Am I the best you ever had?” Seonghwa wanted to know. For some reason, he needed to be the best.

“Yes.” Hongjoong shuddered through a sigh. “Fuck, yes.” He positioned himself between Seonghwa’s legs and hooked them over his shoulders. “Look what you do to me, darling, I’m out of my fucking mind.” His finger found its way back down the cleft of Seonghwa’s ass, this time more intentional. Seonghwa keened at the smooth glide. “Grab a pillow, sweetheart,” Hongjoong instructed. He positioned the pillow under Seonghwa’s hips. “This will help, but you’ll still be sore tomorrow.”

“I don’t know, Captain.” Seonghwa stretched his arms behind his head and arched his back. “I’m in pretty good shape. I think I can handle it.”

An amused smirk. “We’ll see.” A second finger beside the first punched the air from Seonghwa’s lungs. Hongjoong knew the place that made Seonghwa’s toes curl, and purposefully avoided it except for light brushes. Seonghwa whined in complaint, but Hongjoong seemed more interested in scissoring his fingers to stretch him.

A devious smile twisted Hongjoong’s mouth as he wrapped his free hand loosely around Seonghwa’s throat. Seonghwa tangled his fists through the sheets before Hongjoong lowered his head to kiss Seonghwa’s stiffened nipple. At the same time, he pushed a third finger alongside the other two. A high whine escaped Seonghwa’s mouth. Hongjoong giggled and curled his fingers just so.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa gasped. “Hongjoong…”

“Perfect,” Hongjoong whispered into his chest. “You’re so perfect precious.”

The stretch of his fingers felt strange, but addictive. Seonghwa found himself rocking his hips down to chase the feeling. “More,” he pleaded. “Please, Captain.”

Hongjoong lifted his head with an oddly vulnerable look in his dark eyes. “I’ll take care of you, love. I’ll make it so good, my darling.”

His kiss seared Seonghwa’s mouth; soft tongue and sharp teeth and hot breath. Hongjoong’s fingers retreated and Seonghwa whined at the smell of the sweet oil. He felt the slippery tip of Hongjoong’s cock bump against him and he wrapped his legs around Hongjoong's waist.

“Alright?” Hongjoong pressed his forehead to Seonghwa’s, lips a breath apart.

“Make love to me, Captain,” Seonghwa spoke low, a little authoritative. He knew what he wanted.

Hongjoong made a small sound before he pushed slowly inside. He didn’t meet much resistance, but Seonghwa felt a slight burning stretch and his hands flew to Hongjoong’s waist. Hongjoong kissed his cheeks and stroked his hair. “It’s alright my love. Relax for me. There you go.”

Hongjoong’s dick outscaled three of his fingers and Seonghwa couldn’t explain to himself why that excited him so much. Or why it felt good. Or why he wanted more. He used his grip on Hongjoong’s hips to pull him closer, deeper, bit by bit, until Hongjoong trembled, their hips flush and Seonghwa’s heart racing out of his chest.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Seonghwa breathed after a moment.

“Fuck.” Hongjoong giggled. “You feel so good. So fucking good, I’m-” Seonghwa could feel him pulsing, twitching. “I’m not going to last, Hwa. I love you. I--” He shuddered with a flury of curses when Seonghwa clenched around him experimentally. “Can I move? Fuck, I’m gonna die, sweetheart.”

“Yeah.” Seonghwa took a deep breath to relax and traced his fingertips down Hongjoong’s chest. “Yeah, you can move.”

The slow, shallow rocking motion of Hongjoong’s hips pulled undignified noises from Seonghwa’s throat. He pressed a fist against his mouth, but Hongjoong pushed it away. “No, I want to hear you.” His voice sounded tight. A little desperate.

Something in the angle of Hongjoong’s hips changed and Seonghwa’s back arched off the bed, hands fisted in the sheets, thighs clenched around Hongjoong’s waist, head thrown back with a surprised, “Fuck.”

Hongjoong giggled and rolled his hips a little faster, a little deeper. “Beautiful. So beautiful, so perfect for me.”

Hearing his own voice in a series of pitiful whines made Seonghwa’s head spin because he hadn’t intended to make any such noise. But the near-constant pressure against his prostate and the smooth drag against his rim turned his brain to mush.

He felt full in a way he didn’t know was possible. Complete in some undefinable facet of his being. It took his breath and made his heart skip. He pried his eyes open and moaned low at the sight of Hongjoong’s chest swelling with every rapid breath and his pink mouth open as his dark eyes drank in the sight of Seonghwa sprawled below him.

“Is it good, honey? Tell me what you want.” As soft as the words sounded, a fire burned behind them and made Seonghwa’s heart skip a beat.

“So good. so…” The intimacy of the moment hit Seonghwa all at once. His chest felt too full of emotion. It spilled out from his eyes and down his cheeks. He reached up to his husband’s face and shoulder. “Kiss me,” he begged.

Hongjoong’s soft mouth covered Seonghwa’s, insistent and hungry. His hips rocked harder, pulling out farther before they pushed back in with practiced precision. Seonghwa’s hand tangled in his hair and pulled the long strands at the back whenever a particular thrust hit especially good. He felt desperately impatient but also wished for this moment to last forever. He felt close to his limit, but he didn’t want it to end.

He shaped his other hand over the generous swell of Hongjoong’s ass and squeezed. Hongjoong gasped and snapped his hips harder, which made Seonghwa cry out.

“Sorry, precious.” He slowed, breathless, and Seonghwa realized he’d been intentionally holding back. He’d been trying to be what he thought Seonghwa wanted. He’d been mindful not to hurt him. “Is this alright? Is it too much?”

A swell of emotion burst buoyant in Seonghwa’s chest. “More,” he sighed into Hongjoong’s mouth. “Give me more. Please, Captain, I need-”

But Hongjoong already knew, and already picked up the pace, pushing deeper than Seonghwa would have thought possible.

He kissed the tears from Seonghwa’s cheeks. “So pretty when you cry, love. So beautiful.” He lifted Seonghwa’s knee over his shoulder, effectively bending Seonghwa in half and opening him up to go even deeper. “Only for me,” he growled. “All mine.”

“Yours,” Seonghwa repeated, grasping for purchase on his smooth skin. “Fuck.” The new angle melted Seonghwa’s bones into putty and turned his muscles to lead.

He understood the hype now. He understood why everyone wanted this. But he couldn’t regret waiting. His fingers dug into Hongjoong’s flesh and he wished he had the words to thank the pirate for being patient with him. If they’d done this too soon it wouldn’t mean the same thing. It wouldn’t feel like love.

“I’m- Joong, please,” he begged. “Captain. I’m so close- Please.”

Hongjoong’s warm hand wrapped around Seonghwa’s aching dick and thumbed at the head at odds with the hard tempo of his hips. “Yes. Fuck, Seonghwa, yes.” His hips stuttered a bit. “Cum for me, darling.”

Seonghwa clung to Hongjoong’s body as everything went silent and exploded like a cannon shot simultaneously. The earth fell away and Seonghwa floated on a tranquil sea of bliss. He loved Hongjoong so fully and so deeply he could taste it. The metallic taste of lightning that buzzed under his skin and spread all the way to the tips of his fingers and the tips of his toes.

He registered Hongjoong’s endless stream of curses, the sudden chilly absence of Hongjoong’s cock inside him, and sticky heat across his stomach. But he couldn’t move.

Hongjoong dropped beside him breathing hard. “Holy fucking shit,” he whispered. “I love you, Seonghwa. So much, so fucking much.”

Seonghwa used all his remaining energy to roll to his side and cup Hongjoong’s cheek. “I love you.” He pouted a little, eyes falling closed. “I wanted to say it first.”

Hongjoong giggled breathlessly and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Next time, dearest.”

It wasn’t fair. Seonghwa didn’t have any brains left. “Next time, I’ll top and then you won’t have any brains left,” Seonghwa mumbled.

He heard Hongjoong take a deep breath. “I’d like that, precious.” He used the corner of the sheet to wipe the worst of the mess from Seonghwa’s stomach, and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

“You’re not going to leave me,” Seonghwa slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Hongjoong kissed his forehead, his cheeks. “No, my love. I’m not going anywhere.”

Seonghwa’s last waking thought was to wonder how much worse his life would have been if he married some soft foreign princess with long hair and wide eyes and small breasts. And then to laugh at his past self because now he would choose Hongjoong every time.

-----

Yunho sighed, and frowned at Gahyeon talking with San and Wooyoung on the opposite side of the deck. “I don’t take orders from you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa straightened his jacket and called for Hongjoong. They didn’t have much time before Chan caught up to them, and Seonghwa needed everything to be ready.

Hongjoong looked down at him from the upper deck. “I’ve made it clear I don’t like this.”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Seonghwa insisted. “It’s no more dangerous than you pretending to leave me unguarded in the palace.”

Hongjoong squinted sourly. “Do what he says for now, Yunho.”

Yunho nodded, but his expression made it clear he didn’t agree with Seonghwa’s plan. “Chan is smarter than this.”

“You underestimate how much people underestimate me.” The whole plan banked on Chan’s unwavering belief that Seonghwa was a vapid, naive, materialistic prince. And the fact that Seonghwa could pull that off.

Yunho exhaled sharply and bowed to Gahyeon when she approached Seonghwa to tell him, “I’ll need a few hours.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That’s probably all we have.” He glanced at Yunho, now across the deck with San and Wooyoung, and sighed. “If father finds out you fancy a pirate, I can’t save you.”

Gahyeon grinned. “But you won’t tell him. You won’t stop us.”

Seonghwa put on a serious face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gahyeon giggled and patted him on the back. “That’s why you’re my favorite brother.”

He didn’t bother to ask whether she included brothers-in-law in that contest. He would take the compliment for what it was.

Seonghwa climbed the stairs to the higher deck and crossed his arms at Hongjoong. “You have to understand how you killing him isn’t justice.”

“Justice?” Hongjoong repeated. He stopped a step away from Seonghwa. “I’m not putting your life on the line for justice.”

“If all goes well, I won’t have to touch him.” Seonghwa tried to keep calm and level-headed. “He won’t come near me.”

“And if it all goes to shit, I could lose you.” Hongjoong sounded volatile. A storm on the sea with rising waves and strong winds.

But Seonghwa knew the way to navigate a storm was to face the waves head-on. “You’re not going to lose me,” he insisted. “I’ll be right back. It won’t take long.”

Hongjoong scoffed. “I’m not going to stay here and hide like a child.” His obviously bruised pride made him sour. “I’m going to help.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “No. Chan would recognize you. The whole thing would fail.”

Hongjoong stomped to the edge of the upper deck. “I hate this. I hate feeling helpless when the simplest solution is just slitting his throat or putting a bullet through his head.”

“I understand.” And Seonghwa did. He spent months bored and useless on this ship. “But it won’t take long. A matter of minutes and I’ll be back in your arms.” Hongjoong growled his disapproval in response, and Seonghwa approached him slowly to place a hand on his shoulder. “Allow me this justice, Captain,” he said softly. “Allow me to keep this blood from your hands.” He took one of Hongjoong’s hands and brought it to his mouth to kiss the knuckles.

Hongjoong twisted his hand away and grasped the sides of Seonghwa’s face. “You want me to be innocent.” He shook his head tightly. “I’m not, Seonghwa. I lost that long ago.” A short, mirthless giggle. “One more stain on my soul won’t make a difference.”

“It makes a difference to me,” Seonghwa told him. “There must be justice. There must be order. A prince does not condone violence or stand complicit to murder. Violence is not always the answer.” He wet his lips. “If one more stain won’t change your fate, maybe one bright spot will. Maybe-”

“I will never be a good man, and you will never be happy.” He sounded haunted, pain behind the twist of his mouth.

Seonghwa covered his hands and smiled gently. “This is a step. And I assure you, I’m very happy.” He kissed Hongjoong’s mouth. “I’ll be safe.”

“You had better be.” The threat in that made Seonghwa smile. His pirate loved him.

Gahyeon showed Seonghwa her checklist. “I’ve done the best I can with Jongho. He hates the gloves, but his skin is black, Hwa.”

Seonghwa looked for Jongho in the lineup awaiting Chan’s ship to dock. Jongho looked uncomfortable and sulky, picking at his white gloves and servant’s uniform. Yunho stood next to him, cleaned up. No shells or beads in his gleaming, brushed-out hair, a pressed uniform, and an easy posture. Yunho could pass for a royal attendant. He spoke animatedly and laughed with another man Seonghwa didn’t recognize. He stood as tall as Yunho, less natural in a uniform, but not uncomfortably so. His eyes crinkled when he smiled and his face looked jovial and honest.

“Who is Yunho’s friend?” Seonghwa asked.

Gahyeon tilted her head. “You mean Mingi?”

Seonghwa realized he’d never seen Mingi without his wide-brimmed hat to cast his face in ominous shadow. He approached them and recognized the pale, crescent scar on Mingi’s cheek. “It should be any moment now,” he told them. “You have your weapons hidden?”

Mingi patted a pile of linens. “All set.”

Yunho lifted the corner of a jacket in a stack of clothing to reveal a sword hilt. “This might work.” He nodded respectfully at Gahyeon. “Thank you for your help, your Highness.”

Gahyeon smiled prettily. “I’ll braid your shells back into your hair when it’s done.”

Yunho ducked his head with color high on his cheeks and at the tips of his ears. “Thank you, princess.”

Seonghwa frowned at both of them, but said nothing. He would ignore it and therefore not be responsible for it. “Yeosang and Wooyoung will stay with Hongjoong on the Horizon to make enough noise for a distraction.” He looked around “Has anyone seen San?”

A shout from the other end of the line-up, followed by a loud crash. Seonghwa and Gahyeon rushed to the source of the noise.

“Your mother’s a whore!” San shouted at the soldier sprawled on the ground in a mess of silverware.

The soldier scrambled to his feet and jabbed a finger in San’s face. “You take that back.”

Before Seonghwa could ask the cause of the quarrel, a green streak dove from the sky to land clumsily on Seonghwa’s arm. “Fuck ‘em all,” Fix squawked.

Seonghwa took a deep breath. Showtime.

“Clean this up,” he ordered San and the soldier. “Thank you for your help, Gahyeon.” He patted her shoulder and pushed her in the general direction of the castle. She shot him a look, but he clapped his hands and addressed the company. “Let’s move.”

The Levanter looked pale next to the Horizon. Bleached out and soft in the way new hide is before it’s tanned to leather. Seonghwa nodded to Yunho, who returned the nod with a raise of his eyebrows that asked if Seonghwa really wanted to do this. Seonghwa took a deep breath and boarded the ship.

No-one stopped him. The crew members stared while Seonghwa strutted like he owned the ship. Chan met him halfway across the deck with bewilderment written all over his face. “Prince Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa sighed dramatically. “I can’t do this anymore. I simply can’t.” He knew he could put on a good performance. He waved his hands. “All the pirating and the vulgarity.” He made a noise of dissatisfaction. “You’ll treat me right? Give me everything I ask for?”

Chan nodded with a short laugh. “Of course. Yes. You’ll want for nothing on my ship.” And so the trap was set.

Seonghwa beamed at him. “Thank you, Chan, I knew I could count on you.” He clapped his hands and his entourage of disguised soldiers and pirates boarded the ship carrying piles of clothes, furniture, and other novelties. “I’ve taken the liberty of bringing all my things.” He tucked his chin beguilingly. “If you’ll just tell me where to put them.”

Chan stared at the costumed soldiers and pirates with baffled distaste. “We’re not going to have room for all that.”

Seonghwa put a hand to his heart. “No room? But I’ve only packed the bare essentials.” He needed the entire company to board the ship before he gave the attack signal.

A familiar freckled nose appeared beside Chan, hobbling unevenly on a wooden peg leg. “What’s going on?”

“The prince is coming with us.” Chan waved a hand at the waiting entourage. “But we need to do something with all this.”

Felix frowned. “It’s a trap.”

“A trap?” Seonghwa looked around, confused. “Is Hongjoong coming after me?”

Chan clicked his tongue. “We can’t fit the chairs or the vanity,” he told Seonghwa. “I’m not sure about all the clothes.”

Seonghwa pouted. “I hope you have comparable chairs then. I’m very particular about where I sit.”

Yunho approached Seonghwa when everyone boarded the ship, as scripted. “Your Highness,” he bowed, speaking in a light, proper tone with clear enunciation. “If the pirates find out you’ve snuck away-”

In absolute perfect timing, the Horizon’s cannons fired a round. The sound shook the Levanter and the crew checked for damage. There wouldn’t be any. Yeosang and Wooyoung wouldn’t waste the ammunition. But Seonghwa’s entourage hit the deck with overembellished panic. Seonghwa cowered behind Chan, and Yunho bumped Felix to knock him down.

“Changbin,” Chan yelled over the ruckus of soldiers and pirates overplaying their fear. A solid man with a severe expression approached and bowed his head. “How quickly can we ready the cannons?”

Changbin shook his head. “Not quickly enough, sir.”

Chan pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Give everyone a gun and prepare to fight. Have Minho take the prince below to guard him.”

Seonghwa whistled for Fix. They had a very short window of time to pull this off. He nodded at Yunho, who waved a hand at Mingi, who drew a sword from the pile of clothes and tossed it to Yunho. The signal. Yunho caught it as the soldiers and the other pirates drew their weapons and contained or incapacitated most of Chan’s crew before they armed themselves.

Seonghwa had his own new rapier drawn and ready by the time Chan realized the ruse. “You sick bastard.”

The click of a flintlock from the deck froze them both. “I told you so.” Felix aimed the gun at Seonghwa, grimacing as he knelt on his peg leg. “This one’s crafty.”

“Bang Chan, you’re under arrest for piracy, attempted regicide, and crimes against the crown.” Seonghwa proclaimed, sword at Chan’s neck.

“Hyunjin,” Chan shouted.

Seonghwa hit the floor before he realized he’d been tackled. He kept hold of his sword, but Hyunjin pinned his arm down despite Seonghwa’s flailing. “San!” he called, and threw an arm up to shield his face from a punch.

San knocked Hyunjin off Seonghwa’s chest and wrestled him onto the deck. Seonghwa pushed himself to his feet, but Chan was nowhere to be seen. The soldiers had most of the crew tied up, and seemed to be doing well for themselves. Yunho clashed swords with another pirate, Minho, Seonghwa assumed. Jongho dragged Felix kicking and screaming to the other prisoners.

But Seonghwa couldn’t let Bang Chan escape.

A flurry of green feathers descended to land on Mingi’s outstretched arm. Mingi smiled wide. “Fix on!”

The parrot swooped between flashing blades to peck at faces and pluck out eyes in a glorious display of terror that would keep Seonghwa awake at night for weeks to come.

Yunho put a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I didn’t think this would work.”

Seonghwa feared it might not have. “Where’s Chan?”

A low boom shook the ship. Chan and Changbin must be firing the cannons. Seonghwa shared a look with Yunho and they both rushed down into the belly of the ship.

The gunports were not nearly as well maintained as Jongho kept the Horizon’s, but Yunho still found a cannonball to hurl at the pirates loading a second cannon. It hit Changbin solidly in the stomach and knocked him down.

Seonghwa clashed swords with Chan. “If you think I won’t hurt you, you’re wrong, princeling.” Chan fought ferociously, all sudden, hard swings that made Seonghwa’s bones ache from the ringing of his sword. “As far as anyone knows, I’ve got you here. That’s all that matters. I could hire an imposter to be seen from a distance.”

Seonghwa blocked a blow that would have taken his head off and took a few steps back. “I don’t believe I could be easily impersonated.”

Another hard swing backed Seonghwa against a wall. “We’ll see.”

Seonghwa ducked and rolled away before Chan freed his sword from where it was embedded in the wood. He made it halfway up the narrow staircase before Chan caught up with him. The walls on either side made getting any momentum difficult and backing up the stairs took more brainpower than Seonghwa had to spare.

One step up. The sharp sounds of steel on steel rang in his ears, deafening.

One more step. His muscles protested the tight movements, and blocking a swipe at his legs made him hit his elbow hard on the solid wall.

One more step. Chan’s sword glanced off the wood just a hair’s breadth from Seonghwa’s boot.

One more step. “Mingi,” he called. He needed help. Pain in his ankle burst behind his eyes as Chan landed a good blow. Without the high boots to protect him, Seonghwa would have been down for the count. “Fix!”

One more step. He’d almost reached the top of the stairs. The parrot screeched and Seonghwa pulled off one of his glittery cufflinks. “Fetch.” He tossed it at Chan and the bird dove like a falcon.

Seonghwa scrambled up the remaining steps and limped to the nearest wall to take his weight off his ankle. “San?” He didn’t think San would hear, it came out weak and breathless.

But San dropped from the rigging and swept his arm to indicate the imprisoned pirates. Everyone but Chan and Changbin. “We’ve done it, your Highness.”

Mingi leaned his large rifle on his shoulder as he dashed up to them. “Did you find Chan?”

“Yes.” Seonghwa pointed at the staircase. “Help Yunho with Changbin.”

Mingi swung the gun off his shoulder with a bright smile, and San followed him, twirling a pistol.

Wooyoung’s bright laugh carried over the deck. “It worked!” He squatted in front of a bound pirate and taunted him by sticking his tongue out and poking his shoulder with the tip of his knife.

Yeosang followed him to examine the prisoners. Seonghwa looked over at the Horizon. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay on your ship.”

Yeosang shrugged. “We thought we’d help, but it looks like you’ve got it taken care of.”

A shout made Seonghwa whip around with his sword ready. Hongjoong stood behind Chan and forced him to his knees with a knife to his throat.

“No,” Seonghwa shouted. After everything almost worked. Hongjoong couldn’t kill him now.

Seonghwa had no illusions about the man he married. He knew the crimes Hongjoong committed were innumerable and the lives he’d taken were numberless. He knew Hongjoong’s conscience didn’t protest to murder. He knew the blood on the Pirate King’s hands would never wash out.

But Seonghwa wanted to be married to a good man.

He ran toward them, hand outstretched. “No, don’t-”

“Don’t kill him?” Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa with dark, bottomless eyes. “You know he deserves it. Deserves everything I would do. The noose is too quick for him.”

“Captain…” Seonghwa pleaded.

Hongjoong lifted his chin with a harsh exhale. “If you’re going to arrest him, you’d better do it quickly. If he moves, I will slit his throat.”

Two of Seonghwa’s soldiers rushed in to tie Chan up. Seonghwa’s eyes never left his husband’s.

Mercy. Love. Hongjoong had him in his hands, had a knife to his throat, had every opportunity. But he didn’t kill him. Because Seonghwa asked him not to.

Hongjoong’s crew helped the soldiers escort the imprisoned pirates off the ship, leaving Seonghwa and Hongjoong alone.

“There.” Hongjoong spread his hands and kicked at the deck. “You’ve arrested your pirate.” He leveled a searching look at Seonghwa. “Will you do this every time I try to kill someone?”

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around himself. “You may never be a good man,” he spoke carefully. “But you often do the right thing.”

Hongjoong scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You already accuse me of kindness, I can’t have you accusing me of nobility as well.”

A smile warmed Seonghwa’s face. “I would never besmirch your reputation like that.”

Hongjoong wrapped his arms around Seonghwa and pulled him close. “You make me want to be a good man,” he whispered like a secret.

Seonghwa grinned into his shoulder. “I think you’re already well on your way.” Because good men defended those they cared about. Good men stood up for what they believed. Good men showed both kindness and discipline. Good men kept their promises.

Seonghwa didn’t think he could ask for anything more.

-----

Endless blue sea stretched out in every direction and the wind blew sharp spray into Seonghwa’s face. The sun beat down hot on his tanned skin. He dropped heavy coils of rope at his feet and he swept long hair off his forehead where it didn’t reach the ponytail at the nape of his neck. His arms felt sore from hard work, but he much preferred it to boredom and uselessness.

“What are you thinking about, love?” Hongjoong asked, a few steps away, leaning over the railing of the ship.

Seonghwa hummed. “You look very handsome today.” And he did. A nice jacket with an ostentatious trim that somehow belonged on his shoulders, intricate beading on his waistcoat. He wore fine things well. He looked more like a gentleman than a pirate.

“I thought you might like it.” Hongjoong tossed his hair. “I feel rather regal.”

Seonghwa bowed deeply with a flourish. “The Pirate King, ruler of scum and villainy.” He took Hongjoong’s hand to place a kiss above the clunky rings, and smudged dirt on the frayed and yellowed lace at his sleeve cuff. “I am honored, your Majesty.”

Hongjoong’s smile lit up brighter than the hot sun. “I adore you, my pirate prince.”

Seonghwa counted himself lucky. The prince who married a pirate.

The prince who fell in love with a pirate.

The Pirate Prince.