Shihan drabble challenge, the last week 2 of 2
Week Four Part 2 of 2(of the of the month long shihanaday drabble a day self challenge)
100 (the second picture shown) for ranwae - Persuasion
He could do this.
He was, after all, Choi Siwon, man of many talents, appearing in his first music video at sixteen and filming his first drama at eighteen. Both cameo roles, but that’s beside the point.
The point is that merely one year later, while other guys were at home playing Starcraft, he was being cast in a movie (an epic one at that, as the critics later labeled it) with mega super star Andy Lau.
He could do this. He’s got it.
Squaring his shoulders, he approached Hangeng.
The other man turned and, with lips set in a firm line of disapproval, said, “No,” effectively shooting Siwon down, even before he got the chance to utter a single word to plead his case.
Dejected, Siwon pursed his lips out further as he turned back around.
Maybe he needed to practice his pout in front of the mirror more.
184 Abracadabra, inspired by rayflo comment that "He was staring at 'something' next to the hand...for sure!"
In actuality, Siwon really loved Hankyung as a blond.
Of course, Hankyung was still the same soft hearted person he always was, but when Siwon awoke to find blond hair spread out across his pillow in bed, it was almost like he was with a completely different person.
Not that Siwon would trade Hankyung for anybody else (except maybe two Hankyungs), but the feeling itself was intimately thrilling.
Plus, Siwon loved running his hands through Hankyung’s hair and loved the extra soft textures from the massive conditioning they did to seal in the color. Free of product earlier that day, it had felt great under his roving hands.
It was slightly jarring to see, his hand slide through the once dark stable colored locks, but it was still exciting.
Speaking of excitement, Siwon angled his concentrated focus on Hankyung’s crotch.
Maybe he should take up magic or something. Doesn’t that usually make things like, say, pants disappear?
230 - Religious Sightings
“Geng! Geng!” Siwon called out, as he excitably gestured Hangeng over.
“Look over there!” Siwon pointed, “Guess who’s in the crowd!”
“…My mom?” Hangeng asked as his beaming mother waved to them from two rows down.
“Nooo, I’m talking about Jesus sitting next to her! Do I look okay?” Siwon asked, immediately straightening and patting down his clothes. “I haven’t sinned since last night,” he said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.
“Yeah, but you were on your knees when that happened,” Hangeng muttered to himself.
“Did you say something?” Siwon asked, turning bright fevered eyes in his direction.
“No, no, nothing,” Hangeng said, raising his hands up in mock surrender.
He really needed to speak to the manger about giving Siwon a vacation.
232 - The Obvious
“Hyung! Hyung! Let’s take a picture!”
The set for Happiness was nothing but pure chaos. They were told upon the completion of this last frame, they would be able to go home for the day. But unlike the clear and explicit directions they were usually given before a music video shooting, they were told that, aside from the choreographed parts, they were free to do whatever they wanted.
While the lack of orders might have lead to slight disorder and confusion for others, in Super Junior, a free for all meant nothing but complete and utter pandemonium.
Sungmin laughed as he grabbed onto Eunhyuk, spinning each other in tight circles before abruptly letting go and flinging themselves bodily into another random member. Ryeowook steadied whoever suddenly crashed into him and tried to keep an eye on Leeteuk and Donghae, who keep disappearing and reappearing in the oddest positions on set. Deep inside the tornado of chaos that only Super Junior members could create, Siwon saw his chance and called Hankyung over for a picture.
He settled his arm comfortably around Hankyung’s waist and raised the cameraphone up, telling Hankyung to smile.
As Hankyung reached for the phone, Siwon immediately lowered it out of Hankyung’s grasp. He raised it up higher, claiming that his longer arm reach allowed for a better angle.
Siwon dropped a quick kiss on Hankyung’s check in apology before adjusting the camera again.
Please, Siwon wasn’t stupid. If Hankyung got his hands on the phone, he’d see all the pictures Siwon had secretly, and not so secretly taken of him. And the first picture he’d see was one of himself in the shower that was currently functioning as Siwon’s wallpaper.
192 for wings_strength9 - Depths & shihanaday Contest entry.
The girls had been there for several minutes now - 23, his internal clock silently informed him as it continued ticking on - giggling and squealing and doing an immensely terrible job at spying on him.
He smiled to himself and continued petting the stingray that had nudged its head to fit under the contours of his outstretched fingers. Then, with a quick flicker of movement, he disappeared.
“Ehhhh? Where’s Han Geng?” One of the girls asked, dismay clear in the young timber of her voice as she parted the floating vegetation in front of them that had shielded them from Han Geng’s sharp eyes.
“Whaddaya mean?” One of her friends said as she pushed aside the leafy greens waving innocuously in front of her. “He was just there -” she started.
“But, but but - ” another girl interrupted, disbelief filling in on the empty space of her words, “he was JUST there! How could he have possibly gone somewhere without us noticing?”
With a quick flash of color, she swiftly whirled upon her companions, her forehead puckered into lines of frustration. “I knew it! YOU were too loud!”
“What do you mean I was too loud?! That would be this fatso over here - ”
“Who are you calling fat you, you brill fish?!”
“Oh yeah?! It was this brill fish that didn’t want - ”
“You were the one that - ”
“No way, that was you - ”
“No, that wasn’t that was you! Whose stupid idea was it to come here - ”
“That was YOUR idea - ”
“No it wasn’t!”
“Ladies, ladies,” a soft masculine voice called out, stopping the swirling maelstrom of angry turbulent voices. The girls turned around as one, eyes opened wide and mouths dangling in surprise. Han Geng continued to glide over to them, hands turned up in a motion of placation in front of him, calm smile in place. As he opened his mouth to speak again, another man rapidly approached the small group, the bright fluttering edges of his clothing identifying him as the royal messenger long before he came into audible range.
“Captain!” He quickly saluted. “The king requests your presence at the palace immediately.”
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me,” Han Geng said, his playful tone subdued in the face of the situation. He dipped his head in a farewell before taking his leave with the messenger.
***
Once, a very, very long time ago, when Han Geng had first arrived in the city, and still reached up to rub his fingers against the shiny surfaces of his cadet emblem like a good luck charm, he was at a loss for words. He stood, completely flabbergasted as he looked up and up and up at the thick city walls and the large looming gates that lead into the city.
He couldn’t remember how long he stood frozen at the entrance, his mouth slightly parted in amazement like the country mouse on his first visit to see the city mouse as he stared at the gates before him. It stood like a pair of foreboding stiff armed giants, their arms crossed as they barricaded the way into the city, their dark baleful gaze piercing through Han Geng and preventing him taking a step forward as they guarded the sleeping citizens under their watch.
The gates were not just a physical barricade from outside forces. The gold lined runes swirled around the gates like almost invisible dust motes, heavily spelling them against malevolent forces that hung unseen in the shadows of calamity and despair. As Han Geng ran a hand against the spinning whorls of gold, he quietly shuddered at the leap of magical energy that ran down the length of his body. He quickly snatched his hand back, cradling it close to him as his body tried to shake off the aftershock of the magical current still snapping underneath his skin.
But, that was a long time ago. He no longer had to wait for the guards who walked to and fro on the parapet that sat like a crown on top of the walls to send a message, to be let in. He paused to allow the drawbridge to reach its descent, no longer startled by the death groan it howled as it was lowered. As he strode towards the inner antechamber, the servants that had treated him with cold civility when he first arrived, now bowed in his presence, rushing forward to open doors for him.
The man who sat on the raised dais in the center of the room need not be addressed as any other name except for king. He was a large hulking man, the once midnight blue hair he used to wear down to his waist and shake like a mantle now hung to his shoulders instead and was liberally threaded with silver. He wore power and command as effortlessly as the heavy rings that decorated his hands and when he entered a room, everyone’s eyes were automatically drawn to him. His venerable face bore a long jagged scar that ran from the corner of his eye down to his hairline and was testament of the warrior-king who rode at the forefront of every battle.
It was to him whom men pledged their loyalty to and for him they laid their lives down. It was his city the soldiers called home and his crest they bore on their shoulders with pride.
“Men,” he started, his russet colored eyes resting briefly on each of the commanders that stood at attention before him. “In two days, a powerful storm will stir her fingers into our fair city.” A quick murmur of excitement fanned out among the men and they dropped to an at-ease position at his words, jostling each other as they waited for the King to finish his announcement and choose.
A booming storm that shrieked and displayed her displeasure by striking at the waves in a screaming tantrum did not endanger the citizens of the city at their depths, and was nothing more than a spectacular show for the populace. Whenever it rolled around, the king would allow two families, one from noble lineage and one from the lower echelons to watch the show from a distance of 100 meters away from the surface. Accompanied by at least two members of the royal army, the families would be able to watch the galleon heaving, as it struggled to slice through the water. The hoarse shouts of the men as they cried to each other to lower the sails were muffled through the thrashing waves. Pelting rain carved through their sails and dripped down the dark planes of their faces. They were backlit by the arcs of lightning that flashed across the sky and dark clouds that continued to expel their wrath upon the hapless sailors. The ropes were wet and heavy in their hands, swelling with the pounding rain, as they tried to pull down the heavy folds of their ship’s white sails underneath the heavy press of the storm.
The few were lucky enough to be chosen never saw this. Instead, they only saw the thick underside of the galleon as it tried to keep a steady course, and the flashes of lightning that turned the dark ocean into indigo slices of color. They could only hear the faraway muffled sounds of struggle at a distance, sounding so very much like the refrain slowly cranked out from the shattered remains of a music box.
Guard duty during these times was simple. The names of which noble family to be selected were already in circulation by the next day, and those chosen were on their best behavior, choosing to stiffly watch the show than to suffer the indignity of having to be physically restrained by the commanders of the royal army. Rumors of appalling behavior always swept faster through court than deeds of valiant behavior and political maneuvering ran as thick as the blue blood of nobles. As for the common family, one look at the displeased grizzly countenance of the guards kept them from breeching the distance the king had expressly specified they were not to cross.
Members of the royal guard were allowed to bring family members or loved ones to attend the show as well. It was a duty that many looked forward to for its simplicity and relaxed air.
Han Geng wasn’t chosen this year but he was perfectly content to watch the show on the ramparts of the castle walls. It was a practice he had done the previous year and for all the scores of years before that.
The guards were quick to salute him as he approached and he grinned wryly, returning the greeting.
“Not this year either huh?” a young cadet asked him, his flaxen hair sticking up in odd angles as he took off his helmet. The guards around them grumbled about their unfortunate turn of luck, being called into duty. The young cadet laughed at their retreating backs, yelling over his shoulder that all they had to do was to watch the upturned faces of the citizens, or was that too hard for them as well? The guards good naturedly flipped him off as they walked away and Han Geng settling down to his accustomed place amongst the other sentries on break.
“Are you kidding cadet?” An older gray haired sentry said as he slapped the cadet upside the head. “Han Geng would rather watch the show with us than with the hoity upper class up there.” Han Geng lifted a hand to his chin, appearing to be deep in thought before answering, “Well, they do tend to smell better than you guys but you take what you can.” The off duty guards laughed as they settled down to watch the storm roaring over their heads.
Han Geng could make out the dark blots near to the surface of the water, visual proof that the families made it there safely, but his attention wasn’t on them. Nor was it on the image of the bright white thunder illuminating the ocean.
His eyes instead, focused on the struggling mass of the wooden underside of the ship as she labored under the push and drag of the waves that were more than happy to have her tumbling and splintering into their embrace.
The show was over in less than an hour and as everyone started to drift away, back towards their homes or to head to the pubs that had stayed open late for this express purpose.
Han Geng noticed the tow-headed cadet still turned upward at the stilling surface above them.
“What is it?” Han Geng, asked as he, too, lifted his head up.
“Doesn’t…doesn’t it seem…” the cadet said, squinting his eyes, “…as if something is falling towards us? I can’t tell what it is, but from this distance…it kind of looks like it’s a broken limbed starfish?” The cadet broke off in a laugh, turning to admit it was impossible and to readily agree that what he was seeing was probably the afterimage from the show, but Han Geng was already gone, racing towards the surface.
He pushed his body to propel him through the water as fast as he had moved years ago, when he had been among those picked to accompany the royal family. It had been the princess’s first show and, standing at less than 100 meters away, he had easily caught the body that been flung from the safety of his world and into Han Geng’s own.
As he raced toward the plummeting body that was surrounded by drifting round bubbles of air, he knew very well it wasn’t just any body, but a fragile human one whose collapsible lungs were slowly filling in with the salty brine of sea water that would kill him.
Han Geng reeled a bit as he caught the drifting man squarely in his arms, and his heart struggled against the thundering beat of his memories.
They weren’t the same person. That was impossible. And yet, as Han Geng turned towards the surface, it was hard not to remember the sight of the sleep mussed hair and the brown eyes blinking into awareness at him.
It was hard not to remember that voice that was deep and rich like a cavern, to remember the body that housed the spirit of a brisk young colt, ready and willingly to explore anything set out before him, but who always took a step back to make sure Han Geng was with him.
It was hard not to remember the feel of that smile when it was turned on him, to remember the sweet tang of those lips.
With a noisy gasp of air, Han Geng broke through the surface of the water.
***
[Fanart by wobaozhewo]
It was dark now; the moon reluctant to show herself after the onslaught of the storm, but Han Geng knew the waters like the deep lines on his palms that outlined his fate for him. From deep inside his trove of memories, he knew exactly where a tiny shelf of land lay and where he could protect the precious burden he held in his arms safe from the rolling waves that churned around them.
With a flick of movement that uncoiled tired muscles, Han Geng revisited the small beach, this time carrying someone different in his embrace.
Working mostly in darkness, the stars only affording dim pinpricks of light tonight, Han Geng tried to make him as comfortable as he could, before taking one last lingering look at him.
They’re not the same person, he reminded himself, a litany he repeated as he dove underneath the rolling tide. He assured himself that the boy would be safe here and made a mental note to bring the sharp edged flint with him when he came back tomorrow.
***
In the expanding sunburst glow of the rising sun, Han Geng studied the sleeping face before him.
The boy had the joint blessing of both his parents’ traits, possessing the long limbs of his father and the fine delicate bone structure of his mother.
He was going to put the piece of flint next to the sleeping boy’s head, but then realized that he might overlook it when he woke up, and started searching around for something he could place it on top of. Eventually, he found a small sized piece of kelp and placed the flint on top of it, making sure that it was not close enough that the man might overturn it if he awoken, but close enough that he could not miss it.
When the sun fully stretched out into awareness, Han Geng ducked back under the waves.
***
Throughout Han Geng’s day whenever he had a spare moment, he thought about the boy on the beach. He wondered if the boy had found the small body of clear freshwater yet. It hadn’t taken him that long to find it, but Han Geng shook his head at the bubbling memory. The boy on the beach wasn’t the same one that existed in Han Geng’s heart and that was all there was to it.
When it neared sunset, Han Geng quietly left his home and headed towards the surface.
The boy was staring into the ruby flames of the fire, the flint Han Geng had left for him beside him and the large lazy fish that liked to dwell in the fresh water pond found deeper inside the beach was held upright on a stick next to him, simmering next to the fire.
Han Geng gently breathed out a small sigh of relief and turned towards the ocean, but the small flinch of sound he made as he moved reverberated in the quiet sandy planes of the beach. The boy suddenly rose from his seat and shouted into the murky shadows he couldn’t see beyond the flickering flame, “Who’s there?”
Fear and trepidation ran unchecked in his voice, but the boy pushed forward. “I won’t hurt you.”
Han Geng held his breath and took deep breaths to still the erratic pumping of his heart that had jump started in surprise at the unexpected sound of the boy’s voice.
“Please,” the boy entreated, “I have food. I can share it with you. Please…just…”
Slowly, Han Geng peeked the upper half of his body around the large rock he had been resting upon and the boy that had been crouched down near the open flames of his small fire huffed out a small gust of relief.
The boy straightened up and held out his hands in front of him in a sign of peace.
“You must be cold and the sun has already set. Why don’t you come closer to the fire where it’s warmer?”
Han Geng smiled but shook his head no.
“Then,” the boy said, “You must allow me to introduce myself,” he said as if suddenly recalling his manners. “My name is Andrew,” he said, placing one hand on his chest. “And you? What is your name?”
“I am…” Han Geng started, his voice slow and tongue unused to the language he had not spoken in so long. He was flooded with memories of the sun slanting in through the large bay window and submerging the room, yellow and creamy like the eggs he had for breakfast that morning, and a voice whispering into his ear and leaning over to correct a sentence.
Han Geng swallowed thickly, “Geng.”
“I have to leave now,” Han Geng said as he turned his back on the fire and the lost boy - no, Andrew now - standing before it.
“Wait!” Andrew cried, a note of desperation flittering across the planes of his face. “Where are you going? Must you leave now? Can’t you stay for a bit?”
Han Geng shook his head again though Andrew could not see him make the motion.
“I cannot, but I will be back tomorrow,” Han Geng said before disappearing under the inky blackness of the ocean.
***
The next evening when Han Geng had come again; he noticed that Andrew had built his fire a bit closer to where the waves lapped at the shore.
Han Geng made sure to be more careful when he heaved himself up upon the rock and dangled the bottom half of his body under the gentle press of the waves.
“Geng?” Andrew called out, his accent thick on the unfamiliarity of Han Geng’s name, “Is that you?”
“Mmm,” Han Geng murmured, “It’s me.”
Andrew sighed and leaned back on his hands as he carefully kept his gaze on the dark ocean before him.
“I thought yesterday was just a figment of my imagination but you’re here now, so it’s not.” Han Geng saw him reach out a hand to touch the sharp edged flint that he had placed beside him. “You left this for me, didn’t you?”
Han Geng declined to give an answer.
Andrew shook his head. “No, it must have been you. There’s no one else around for miles…” he trailed off in the face of Han Geng’s continued silence.
“What was I thinking anyway,” Andrew continued again, seemly to be speaking to himself, as he worked on his single thread of conversation. “Insisting to go on this voyage just because someone in my family said they did it years ago…” he sighed, the crinkling edges of frustration set off by the fingers he ran through his hair. “And yet, here I am, marooned and talking to thin air - ”
Han Geng slid his body back into the water.
“Wait, Geng!” Panic filled the timbres of his voice and turned into desperation. “I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just I’ve never fully seen you and you won’t come any closer like I have a disease or something and I don’t know if and I can’t - I just - ”
“You’re not going crazy,” Han Geng firmly said. “Tomorrow.” He paused. “Tomorrow, I will try to come earlier.”
***
Three days. In three days, Han Geng had already caved.
As he made ready to leave his house, an off duty solider called out to him, saluting him by way of greeting.
“Me and the boys haven’t seen you since the show. Haven’t seen much of you around here these days,” the solider said, shifting closer to dig an elbow playfully into Han Geng’s ribs. “A woman keepin’ ya busy?” he asked, fluttering his eyelids in a gross parody of a wink.
Han Geng forced a laugh and said, “No, not a woman.”
“Oh,” the solider said, taking a step back and looking uneasy. “Is it a man? That’s okay too. Listen, a couple of boys in the barracks are like that and they brought their partners right round, very nice -”
Han Geng smiled, offering neither a affirmation nor a contradiction to the soldier’s assumptions. “Where are ya headed to?” the solider asked instead, abruptly changing the topic in the face of Han Geng’s tranquil expression.
Han Geng looked at him, no trace of joking jocundity. “To live out the last of my life.”
He sighed in resignation at his own weakened state as he catered to Andrew’s unvoiced request to keep him company when he wasn’t even - He sighed again.
He clamored onto his rock during low tide, the sun glinting off the wet slick surfaces of his body and he sat and waited, his shoulders slightly hunched over with what he was about to do.
Hours later, as the sun yawned its exhaustion and began to dip across the sky, Andrew came traipsing down the beach, the broken branches of his firewood tucked neatly under his arm and flint inserted into the pocket of his pants. Then, he looked up and caught sight of Han Geng.
“Geng!” He cried, eyes wide with delight as he dropped all the branches he held in his grasp and happily splashed into the waves, spraying seawater everywhere he went.
His movements were awkward as the heavy material of the clothes - that he did not have the foresight to remove - dragged him down.
Andrew’s chest was rising and falling in quick succession when he finally reached the rock where Han Geng was sitting.
“Geng!” He cried again, dimple etching into his face as he smile widely. Then, just as soon as it appeared, it sank underneath the surface of his face and his mouth opened in a small ‘o’ of surprise as he took in the rest of Han Geng appearance.
“You’re a - a - ” he managed to stutter out.
Han Geng offered no response, patiently waiting for Andrew to finish his spluttering, water splashing around his body as it flickered in movement.
“But that’s impossible, you don’t - you can’t - ”
“Oh?” Han Geng said, making up his mind to risk everything for this encounter, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile. “As impossible as little princes falling off boats,” he ventured forth, and going further when Andrew continued to stare in shock. “And not knowing how to swim? Is it as impossible as that, your Majesty?”
Hey!” Andrew retorted, snapping back into attention at the implied insult to his family line. There was no trace of real anger in his voice or countenance as he answered however. “I can too swim! All the members of the Choi family are excellent swimmers. How can we not be? We do live by the - ” The puzzle pieces seemed to finally click together in place for Andrew as his eyes widened again.
“That means you, you were the one that saved me didn’t you - just like you saved - ”
Han Geng cut him off. “Your pants are getting soaked, your Highness. Honestly, who forgets to take off their clothes before running headfirst into the ocean? Did you know that the ocean is made out of really wet stuff?”
Andrew barely got a chance to defend himself before Han Geng rushed him towards the shore with orders to start a fire and dry himself off.
“But hyuuuung,” Andrew said, more than ready to off into his complaint.
Han Geng stilled. “What did you call me?”
“Hyung,” Andrew called over his shoulder. “It means older brother.”
Han Geng nodded, slow and careful as he made sure not to show that he knew exactly what it meant. After all, it had been another boy on this island who had first told, and then later showed, him the intricacies of his native tongue.
“I’ll stay with you until you get the fire going and dry off. And don’t even pretend you don’t know how to, you’ve been doing it for the past two days.”
Andrew pouted prettily and did as he was told. By the time the fire was roaring a deep crimson color, and his clothes were drying off before it, Han Geng had already disappeared under the next swell of ocean waves.
***
“Han Geng, do you realize what you’re asking for?” she said, looking at him though not unkindly, as he made his request.
“Human legs aren’t easy things to get used to. They’re weak and flighty. Not only will it take you a long time to get use to them, but every step you take will feel as though a thousand shards of broken shells are embedded deep into the soft flesh of your feet and every step you take allows them to dig in deeper and embed themselves in your skin.”
Han Geng nodded, his eyes bright and face set in a stubborn line of defiance.
Everyone received one wish in exchange for the pearl of their childhood. Some used it for themselves, exchanging it for transient beauty or marketable talent. Some saved it for emergencies, using it as a last resort when nothing else in the world worked.
It was the first time anyone had ever asked to be human.
“Han Geng,” she asked again, holding his face gently in between her two heavily spelled hands. “Please think about it. You won’t be a human forever. You can only spend half a year topside amongst them but there’s no guarantee everything will work out. He might never know about these feelings and even if he does, he might not return them.”
Han Geng opened his mouth to ask her how’d she known about that but catching the flash of otherworldliness in her eyes, he knew that of course, she knew everything.
“And if he doesn’t, your lifespan will be automatically cut in half.” For they who aged much slower then humans, this would be an eternity he would never get a chance to spend amongst his people.
“But…what if he does?” Han Geng asked, eyes desperately hopeful as he clutched the pearl, his pearl in between his hands.
She sighed. “I don’t know. They’re fickle creatures, Han Geng. They usually don’t. Not the same way as we love them.”
She looked at his steadfast face. “Please think about it.” He was about to disagree, stating that he had already made up his mind every since he had caught him in his arms during that storm. He had known it then and nothing was going to change his mind.
“Please,” she said, almost begging him to reconsider. “Think about it for one day. That’s all I ask,” she could already see the decision set in his eyes and she hurriedly blinked away her tears before he would notice.
He thought about it for a while, not saying anything as he turned the pearl over in his hands. He then nodded once and turned to leave.
The next day, he waited outside her gate, his pearl clutched tightly in his hands and his unwavering answer displayed across his face.
Han Geng woke, his eyes blinking rapidly in the muted lighting of his lonely bedroom.
It had been a while since he last had a remembrance dream, but he didn’t regret his decision.
He didn’t regret it then, just as how he wouldn’t regret it now.
Han Geng closed his eyes.
***
“Do you think they’ll find me?” Andrew asked Han Geng during the second week of his maroon-ment. Han Geng was floating on his back, drifting languidly and serenely by, causing minor ripples in the still waters of the small freshwater pond. The fish were swimming happily around him.
“They will.” Han Geng surety was set his voice as he answered without opening his eyes.
Andrew had been scared out of his wits when during his usual foray into the pond, he found Han Geng idly swimming there instead.
“How did you even get in here?” he asked, bafflement clearly defined in his voice while Han Geng merely rested his arms on the patch of grass surrounded the small pool.
“All bodies of water lead towards the ocean,” was his enigmatic answer as he produced several handfuls of plump clams to scatter at Andrew’s feet.
“Hmmm,” Andrew agreed half heartedly as he continued poking at the swirling flames.
“You brought him here when you saved him didn’t you,” Andrew stated, not lifting his head up from where the large lobster that Han Geng had gifted him with today was steaming by the fire.
“I did,” Han Geng stiffly answered.
“How…long did it take for the others to find him?” Andrew asked, rubbing his hand over the dark stubble on his chin.
“Not very long,” Han Geng carefully answered.
“And you went back with him?”
“I did.”
“Ah. I knew it must have been you, but I didn’t recognize you at first because of, well -” Andrew abruptly switched topics. “Did you know there are paintings of you two hanging in the castle?”
Of course Han Geng knew. He remembered those days, sitting for those portraits, trying to keep a straight face as he thought about what was for lunch. He remembered the warm feel of his hand in his own, and not knowing how to react when that sign of their affections never made it into the painting.
He remembered how much the simple act of walking actually pained him. It hurt more than the time he had been accidentally stung by a monster of a jellyfish and his body went through violent seizures as his mind froze in a deep paralysis. He had lain in the palace sick bay for weeks. It had hurt worse than when he had been run through with a badly shaped swordfish during a bloody skirmish. But, unlike the other wounds, the pain never abated, never fully went away.
With his warm, steady embrace around him though, the wailing siren of pain became muffled and was almost bearable.
Han Geng had spent his days in a daze of brightly colored happiness surrounded by the warm palpitations of love. He was surprised by soft caresses in the hallway, quick darts of kisses in the courtyard before they rounded the corner and joined with the rest of the royal procession, and he remembered laughing until he was breathless. And every night, he made a home for himself in the warm arms that always opened themselves to him.
He had spent half of his ticking time like this, learning their language, though the words never flew from his mouth as fluidly as it did from everyone else, and exploring their bright port city. At night, he laid down next to the man he gave up his world for and smiled. He was content.
Then one day, when the sun beaming down upon them, so bright that Han Geng had to shield his eyes, a rich caravan rolled to a stop in front of their doors. It bore the emblem of the neighboring country and carried with it indispensable goods. Among the large barrels of wine that the country had produced from their vastly superior vineyard, the caravan also yielded the tiny delicate woman that would be his wife.
He tried to hide his troubled expression from Han Geng, but Han Geng knew. He knew what words like treaty and political allegiance meant, and what the contract held between the small dainty hands of his fiancée meant. Han Geng knew what it meant when he could longer face Han Geng the same way again.
Han Geng knew about it the same way that he knew what he felt for her. Mayhaps it was a love born from obligation, of thinking of others before yourself, but it didn’t change the fact that he loved her.
They never spoke about it and Han Geng feigned ignorance upon the matter. He smiled the same way he always had before. He was still the same gentle man that everyone had come to know and respect at court and quietly, secretly, so nobody could blame him, he started to bottle his happiness deep inside himself.
His fiancée was everything a woman of the court should be, graceful, elegant and someone who knew where her rightful place was. Their marriage would cement an unsteady alliance between the two cities. It would stamp out the bubbling cries of war that started at the frontier lines and would establish an easy trade route that would be a favorable economical gain for all those involved.
They continued to live their lives as if nothing had changed, as if nothing was going to end. He still continued to return to their shared paradise every evening as he always had, but Han Geng could see his struggle, how he suffered to lie on two accounts.
He struggled with making the choice between happiness and duty, between want of an individual and the want of a nation, between the promise they had made as they laid in bed together with their hands intertwined and the promise that had been made when he became the first born prince.
So on the last day of the half year that Han Geng had been granted, he made the decision for him. With his heart so full that it could not hold any more without bleeding over, as the hyung, and as a foreigner in their world, he made the decision for him.
He left.
With his heart close to bursting, filled with all the things he could not say, he leaned down to trace a kiss of love across his forehead, down his closed fluttering eyelids caught in a dream, across those soft cheeks and ending at his parted lips.
He left first, leaving the gold ring that held the whispers of their promises, and it glimmered in the dying rays of the sun.
Then, where he dove into the frothy waves of the ocean that welcomed her son back, he cried, where nobody else could see his tears.
***
It was after a month after Andrew had been thrown overboard and flung into the ocean that Han Geng spied the royal colors of the naval ships approaching the island. It was a large hulking armada, looking for their lost prince, and was so different from that one lone ship that had housed another prince years before.
Andrew spotted them moments after Han Geng did and he ran down the slope, kicking up sand as he flew down the beach his arms waving as he hailed the ships.
Han Geng smiled and slid quietly underneath the quiet waves.
***
The sun was making its slow descent across the horizon and he was filled with the coppery heat and muted glow of it by the time he found Han Geng.
Han Geng didn’t mind. He had waited years for him, and could wait a little longer.
He was much older now, light no longer caught in his midnight steeped hair. It was now as white as first hushed blanket of snow in the winter. He walked slowly, no longer the young colt that challenged Han Geng to race him across the planks of the sailing ships or ran down the sandy slopes of the beach with his carefree laughter filling the air around them.
His face was lined, smile lines crinkling as they cradled his eyes, and frown lines lining the edges of his mouth where he liked to worry the bottom of his lip.
But to Han Geng, whose eyes had filmed over with love, Siwon looked exactly the same to him as he did when he first saved him from his wretched ship so many years ago.
To Han Geng, Siwon just simply looked like love.
“Han Geng,” Siwon exhaled when he finally reached the rock where Han Geng had first rested all those years ago. "You look just as I remember."
Han Geng smiled softly, feeling his heart slowly ticking down. “As do you Siwon,” he said reaching out to touch the face of the first and only man he ever loved.
“Your grandson seems to have repeated your adventures at sea.”
“Great grandson,” Siwon replied, the last rays of the sun caught in his smile. It was the same smile that Han Geng recalled from years ago, when all that filled their days were the sounds of the ocean’s waves and the future stretched out wide, spilling over with a thousand possibilities scattered out before them.
Han Geng smiled, eyes slowly going dim in the night that descended on them. So soon? He asked himself, leaning forward to rest in Siwon’s outstretched arms that easily caught him.
Siwon’s fingers were bare and as Han Geng struggled to look up, his eyes growing heavy, he saw the glint of two gold rings hanging from the thin chain around Siwon’s neck.
“Han Geng,” the sea witch warned him as she cradled his pearl in her palms. “If you return to the ocean when your time is up, the next time you see him, you’ll die. You know that, right?”
I know, Han Geng whispered, tucked safe in Siwon’s arms.
“Han Geng?” Siwon’s worried voice seemed to call to him from far away sounding like waves crashing into the shore.
“Hmmm?” Han Geng asked, barely able to keep his eyes open.
Distantly, he felt Siwon slide something onto his finger.
“This has always been yours. Come, it’s time to go home,” Siwon said, leaning over to kiss him.
***
There was something strangely startling when Leeteuk announced that they were going to go on vacation.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked, giving the rest of the members the pretense of a choice, as though management hadn’t already decided for them.
Siwon didn’t even know how to describe - or even how to begin to describe - the look in Hankyung’s eyes, or the rat-tat-tattling he felt in his chest, when Hankyung turned to him. In that instant, his eyes, by some trick of the light, burned an unfathomable shade of sapphire as he asked, “Have you ever been to the ocean?”
Why did he feel like he had?
100 (the second picture shown) for ranwae - Persuasion
He could do this.
He was, after all, Choi Siwon, man of many talents, appearing in his first music video at sixteen and filming his first drama at eighteen. Both cameo roles, but that’s beside the point.
The point is that merely one year later, while other guys were at home playing Starcraft, he was being cast in a movie (an epic one at that, as the critics later labeled it) with mega super star Andy Lau.
He could do this. He’s got it.
Squaring his shoulders, he approached Hangeng.
The other man turned and, with lips set in a firm line of disapproval, said, “No,” effectively shooting Siwon down, even before he got the chance to utter a single word to plead his case.
Dejected, Siwon pursed his lips out further as he turned back around.
Maybe he needed to practice his pout in front of the mirror more.
184 Abracadabra, inspired by rayflo comment that "He was staring at 'something' next to the hand...for sure!"
In actuality, Siwon really loved Hankyung as a blond.
Of course, Hankyung was still the same soft hearted person he always was, but when Siwon awoke to find blond hair spread out across his pillow in bed, it was almost like he was with a completely different person.
Not that Siwon would trade Hankyung for anybody else (except maybe two Hankyungs), but the feeling itself was intimately thrilling.
Plus, Siwon loved running his hands through Hankyung’s hair and loved the extra soft textures from the massive conditioning they did to seal in the color. Free of product earlier that day, it had felt great under his roving hands.
It was slightly jarring to see, his hand slide through the once dark stable colored locks, but it was still exciting.
Speaking of excitement, Siwon angled his concentrated focus on Hankyung’s crotch.
Maybe he should take up magic or something. Doesn’t that usually make things like, say, pants disappear?
230 - Religious Sightings
“Geng! Geng!” Siwon called out, as he excitably gestured Hangeng over.
“Look over there!” Siwon pointed, “Guess who’s in the crowd!”
“…My mom?” Hangeng asked as his beaming mother waved to them from two rows down.
“Nooo, I’m talking about Jesus sitting next to her! Do I look okay?” Siwon asked, immediately straightening and patting down his clothes. “I haven’t sinned since last night,” he said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.
“Yeah, but you were on your knees when that happened,” Hangeng muttered to himself.
“Did you say something?” Siwon asked, turning bright fevered eyes in his direction.
“No, no, nothing,” Hangeng said, raising his hands up in mock surrender.
He really needed to speak to the manger about giving Siwon a vacation.
232 - The Obvious
“Hyung! Hyung! Let’s take a picture!”
The set for Happiness was nothing but pure chaos. They were told upon the completion of this last frame, they would be able to go home for the day. But unlike the clear and explicit directions they were usually given before a music video shooting, they were told that, aside from the choreographed parts, they were free to do whatever they wanted.
While the lack of orders might have lead to slight disorder and confusion for others, in Super Junior, a free for all meant nothing but complete and utter pandemonium.
Sungmin laughed as he grabbed onto Eunhyuk, spinning each other in tight circles before abruptly letting go and flinging themselves bodily into another random member. Ryeowook steadied whoever suddenly crashed into him and tried to keep an eye on Leeteuk and Donghae, who keep disappearing and reappearing in the oddest positions on set. Deep inside the tornado of chaos that only Super Junior members could create, Siwon saw his chance and called Hankyung over for a picture.
He settled his arm comfortably around Hankyung’s waist and raised the cameraphone up, telling Hankyung to smile.
As Hankyung reached for the phone, Siwon immediately lowered it out of Hankyung’s grasp. He raised it up higher, claiming that his longer arm reach allowed for a better angle.
Siwon dropped a quick kiss on Hankyung’s check in apology before adjusting the camera again.
Please, Siwon wasn’t stupid. If Hankyung got his hands on the phone, he’d see all the pictures Siwon had secretly, and not so secretly taken of him. And the first picture he’d see was one of himself in the shower that was currently functioning as Siwon’s wallpaper.
192 for wings_strength9 - Depths & shihanaday Contest entry.
The girls had been there for several minutes now - 23, his internal clock silently informed him as it continued ticking on - giggling and squealing and doing an immensely terrible job at spying on him.
He smiled to himself and continued petting the stingray that had nudged its head to fit under the contours of his outstretched fingers. Then, with a quick flicker of movement, he disappeared.
“Ehhhh? Where’s Han Geng?” One of the girls asked, dismay clear in the young timber of her voice as she parted the floating vegetation in front of them that had shielded them from Han Geng’s sharp eyes.
“Whaddaya mean?” One of her friends said as she pushed aside the leafy greens waving innocuously in front of her. “He was just there -” she started.
“But, but but - ” another girl interrupted, disbelief filling in on the empty space of her words, “he was JUST there! How could he have possibly gone somewhere without us noticing?”
With a quick flash of color, she swiftly whirled upon her companions, her forehead puckered into lines of frustration. “I knew it! YOU were too loud!”
“What do you mean I was too loud?! That would be this fatso over here - ”
“Who are you calling fat you, you brill fish?!”
“Oh yeah?! It was this brill fish that didn’t want - ”
“You were the one that - ”
“No way, that was you - ”
“No, that wasn’t that was you! Whose stupid idea was it to come here - ”
“That was YOUR idea - ”
“No it wasn’t!”
“Ladies, ladies,” a soft masculine voice called out, stopping the swirling maelstrom of angry turbulent voices. The girls turned around as one, eyes opened wide and mouths dangling in surprise. Han Geng continued to glide over to them, hands turned up in a motion of placation in front of him, calm smile in place. As he opened his mouth to speak again, another man rapidly approached the small group, the bright fluttering edges of his clothing identifying him as the royal messenger long before he came into audible range.
“Captain!” He quickly saluted. “The king requests your presence at the palace immediately.”
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me,” Han Geng said, his playful tone subdued in the face of the situation. He dipped his head in a farewell before taking his leave with the messenger.
***
Once, a very, very long time ago, when Han Geng had first arrived in the city, and still reached up to rub his fingers against the shiny surfaces of his cadet emblem like a good luck charm, he was at a loss for words. He stood, completely flabbergasted as he looked up and up and up at the thick city walls and the large looming gates that lead into the city.
He couldn’t remember how long he stood frozen at the entrance, his mouth slightly parted in amazement like the country mouse on his first visit to see the city mouse as he stared at the gates before him. It stood like a pair of foreboding stiff armed giants, their arms crossed as they barricaded the way into the city, their dark baleful gaze piercing through Han Geng and preventing him taking a step forward as they guarded the sleeping citizens under their watch.
The gates were not just a physical barricade from outside forces. The gold lined runes swirled around the gates like almost invisible dust motes, heavily spelling them against malevolent forces that hung unseen in the shadows of calamity and despair. As Han Geng ran a hand against the spinning whorls of gold, he quietly shuddered at the leap of magical energy that ran down the length of his body. He quickly snatched his hand back, cradling it close to him as his body tried to shake off the aftershock of the magical current still snapping underneath his skin.
But, that was a long time ago. He no longer had to wait for the guards who walked to and fro on the parapet that sat like a crown on top of the walls to send a message, to be let in. He paused to allow the drawbridge to reach its descent, no longer startled by the death groan it howled as it was lowered. As he strode towards the inner antechamber, the servants that had treated him with cold civility when he first arrived, now bowed in his presence, rushing forward to open doors for him.
The man who sat on the raised dais in the center of the room need not be addressed as any other name except for king. He was a large hulking man, the once midnight blue hair he used to wear down to his waist and shake like a mantle now hung to his shoulders instead and was liberally threaded with silver. He wore power and command as effortlessly as the heavy rings that decorated his hands and when he entered a room, everyone’s eyes were automatically drawn to him. His venerable face bore a long jagged scar that ran from the corner of his eye down to his hairline and was testament of the warrior-king who rode at the forefront of every battle.
It was to him whom men pledged their loyalty to and for him they laid their lives down. It was his city the soldiers called home and his crest they bore on their shoulders with pride.
“Men,” he started, his russet colored eyes resting briefly on each of the commanders that stood at attention before him. “In two days, a powerful storm will stir her fingers into our fair city.” A quick murmur of excitement fanned out among the men and they dropped to an at-ease position at his words, jostling each other as they waited for the King to finish his announcement and choose.
A booming storm that shrieked and displayed her displeasure by striking at the waves in a screaming tantrum did not endanger the citizens of the city at their depths, and was nothing more than a spectacular show for the populace. Whenever it rolled around, the king would allow two families, one from noble lineage and one from the lower echelons to watch the show from a distance of 100 meters away from the surface. Accompanied by at least two members of the royal army, the families would be able to watch the galleon heaving, as it struggled to slice through the water. The hoarse shouts of the men as they cried to each other to lower the sails were muffled through the thrashing waves. Pelting rain carved through their sails and dripped down the dark planes of their faces. They were backlit by the arcs of lightning that flashed across the sky and dark clouds that continued to expel their wrath upon the hapless sailors. The ropes were wet and heavy in their hands, swelling with the pounding rain, as they tried to pull down the heavy folds of their ship’s white sails underneath the heavy press of the storm.
The few were lucky enough to be chosen never saw this. Instead, they only saw the thick underside of the galleon as it tried to keep a steady course, and the flashes of lightning that turned the dark ocean into indigo slices of color. They could only hear the faraway muffled sounds of struggle at a distance, sounding so very much like the refrain slowly cranked out from the shattered remains of a music box.
Guard duty during these times was simple. The names of which noble family to be selected were already in circulation by the next day, and those chosen were on their best behavior, choosing to stiffly watch the show than to suffer the indignity of having to be physically restrained by the commanders of the royal army. Rumors of appalling behavior always swept faster through court than deeds of valiant behavior and political maneuvering ran as thick as the blue blood of nobles. As for the common family, one look at the displeased grizzly countenance of the guards kept them from breeching the distance the king had expressly specified they were not to cross.
Members of the royal guard were allowed to bring family members or loved ones to attend the show as well. It was a duty that many looked forward to for its simplicity and relaxed air.
Han Geng wasn’t chosen this year but he was perfectly content to watch the show on the ramparts of the castle walls. It was a practice he had done the previous year and for all the scores of years before that.
The guards were quick to salute him as he approached and he grinned wryly, returning the greeting.
“Not this year either huh?” a young cadet asked him, his flaxen hair sticking up in odd angles as he took off his helmet. The guards around them grumbled about their unfortunate turn of luck, being called into duty. The young cadet laughed at their retreating backs, yelling over his shoulder that all they had to do was to watch the upturned faces of the citizens, or was that too hard for them as well? The guards good naturedly flipped him off as they walked away and Han Geng settling down to his accustomed place amongst the other sentries on break.
“Are you kidding cadet?” An older gray haired sentry said as he slapped the cadet upside the head. “Han Geng would rather watch the show with us than with the hoity upper class up there.” Han Geng lifted a hand to his chin, appearing to be deep in thought before answering, “Well, they do tend to smell better than you guys but you take what you can.” The off duty guards laughed as they settled down to watch the storm roaring over their heads.
Han Geng could make out the dark blots near to the surface of the water, visual proof that the families made it there safely, but his attention wasn’t on them. Nor was it on the image of the bright white thunder illuminating the ocean.
His eyes instead, focused on the struggling mass of the wooden underside of the ship as she labored under the push and drag of the waves that were more than happy to have her tumbling and splintering into their embrace.
The show was over in less than an hour and as everyone started to drift away, back towards their homes or to head to the pubs that had stayed open late for this express purpose.
Han Geng noticed the tow-headed cadet still turned upward at the stilling surface above them.
“What is it?” Han Geng, asked as he, too, lifted his head up.
“Doesn’t…doesn’t it seem…” the cadet said, squinting his eyes, “…as if something is falling towards us? I can’t tell what it is, but from this distance…it kind of looks like it’s a broken limbed starfish?” The cadet broke off in a laugh, turning to admit it was impossible and to readily agree that what he was seeing was probably the afterimage from the show, but Han Geng was already gone, racing towards the surface.
He pushed his body to propel him through the water as fast as he had moved years ago, when he had been among those picked to accompany the royal family. It had been the princess’s first show and, standing at less than 100 meters away, he had easily caught the body that been flung from the safety of his world and into Han Geng’s own.
As he raced toward the plummeting body that was surrounded by drifting round bubbles of air, he knew very well it wasn’t just any body, but a fragile human one whose collapsible lungs were slowly filling in with the salty brine of sea water that would kill him.
Han Geng reeled a bit as he caught the drifting man squarely in his arms, and his heart struggled against the thundering beat of his memories.
They weren’t the same person. That was impossible. And yet, as Han Geng turned towards the surface, it was hard not to remember the sight of the sleep mussed hair and the brown eyes blinking into awareness at him.
It was hard not to remember that voice that was deep and rich like a cavern, to remember the body that housed the spirit of a brisk young colt, ready and willingly to explore anything set out before him, but who always took a step back to make sure Han Geng was with him.
It was hard not to remember the feel of that smile when it was turned on him, to remember the sweet tang of those lips.
With a noisy gasp of air, Han Geng broke through the surface of the water.
***
[Fanart by wobaozhewo]
It was dark now; the moon reluctant to show herself after the onslaught of the storm, but Han Geng knew the waters like the deep lines on his palms that outlined his fate for him. From deep inside his trove of memories, he knew exactly where a tiny shelf of land lay and where he could protect the precious burden he held in his arms safe from the rolling waves that churned around them.
With a flick of movement that uncoiled tired muscles, Han Geng revisited the small beach, this time carrying someone different in his embrace.
Working mostly in darkness, the stars only affording dim pinpricks of light tonight, Han Geng tried to make him as comfortable as he could, before taking one last lingering look at him.
They’re not the same person, he reminded himself, a litany he repeated as he dove underneath the rolling tide. He assured himself that the boy would be safe here and made a mental note to bring the sharp edged flint with him when he came back tomorrow.
***
In the expanding sunburst glow of the rising sun, Han Geng studied the sleeping face before him.
The boy had the joint blessing of both his parents’ traits, possessing the long limbs of his father and the fine delicate bone structure of his mother.
He was going to put the piece of flint next to the sleeping boy’s head, but then realized that he might overlook it when he woke up, and started searching around for something he could place it on top of. Eventually, he found a small sized piece of kelp and placed the flint on top of it, making sure that it was not close enough that the man might overturn it if he awoken, but close enough that he could not miss it.
When the sun fully stretched out into awareness, Han Geng ducked back under the waves.
***
Throughout Han Geng’s day whenever he had a spare moment, he thought about the boy on the beach. He wondered if the boy had found the small body of clear freshwater yet. It hadn’t taken him that long to find it, but Han Geng shook his head at the bubbling memory. The boy on the beach wasn’t the same one that existed in Han Geng’s heart and that was all there was to it.
When it neared sunset, Han Geng quietly left his home and headed towards the surface.
The boy was staring into the ruby flames of the fire, the flint Han Geng had left for him beside him and the large lazy fish that liked to dwell in the fresh water pond found deeper inside the beach was held upright on a stick next to him, simmering next to the fire.
Han Geng gently breathed out a small sigh of relief and turned towards the ocean, but the small flinch of sound he made as he moved reverberated in the quiet sandy planes of the beach. The boy suddenly rose from his seat and shouted into the murky shadows he couldn’t see beyond the flickering flame, “Who’s there?”
Fear and trepidation ran unchecked in his voice, but the boy pushed forward. “I won’t hurt you.”
Han Geng held his breath and took deep breaths to still the erratic pumping of his heart that had jump started in surprise at the unexpected sound of the boy’s voice.
“Please,” the boy entreated, “I have food. I can share it with you. Please…just…”
Slowly, Han Geng peeked the upper half of his body around the large rock he had been resting upon and the boy that had been crouched down near the open flames of his small fire huffed out a small gust of relief.
The boy straightened up and held out his hands in front of him in a sign of peace.
“You must be cold and the sun has already set. Why don’t you come closer to the fire where it’s warmer?”
Han Geng smiled but shook his head no.
“Then,” the boy said, “You must allow me to introduce myself,” he said as if suddenly recalling his manners. “My name is Andrew,” he said, placing one hand on his chest. “And you? What is your name?”
“I am…” Han Geng started, his voice slow and tongue unused to the language he had not spoken in so long. He was flooded with memories of the sun slanting in through the large bay window and submerging the room, yellow and creamy like the eggs he had for breakfast that morning, and a voice whispering into his ear and leaning over to correct a sentence.
Han Geng swallowed thickly, “Geng.”
“I have to leave now,” Han Geng said as he turned his back on the fire and the lost boy - no, Andrew now - standing before it.
“Wait!” Andrew cried, a note of desperation flittering across the planes of his face. “Where are you going? Must you leave now? Can’t you stay for a bit?”
Han Geng shook his head again though Andrew could not see him make the motion.
“I cannot, but I will be back tomorrow,” Han Geng said before disappearing under the inky blackness of the ocean.
***
The next evening when Han Geng had come again; he noticed that Andrew had built his fire a bit closer to where the waves lapped at the shore.
Han Geng made sure to be more careful when he heaved himself up upon the rock and dangled the bottom half of his body under the gentle press of the waves.
“Geng?” Andrew called out, his accent thick on the unfamiliarity of Han Geng’s name, “Is that you?”
“Mmm,” Han Geng murmured, “It’s me.”
Andrew sighed and leaned back on his hands as he carefully kept his gaze on the dark ocean before him.
“I thought yesterday was just a figment of my imagination but you’re here now, so it’s not.” Han Geng saw him reach out a hand to touch the sharp edged flint that he had placed beside him. “You left this for me, didn’t you?”
Han Geng declined to give an answer.
Andrew shook his head. “No, it must have been you. There’s no one else around for miles…” he trailed off in the face of Han Geng’s continued silence.
“What was I thinking anyway,” Andrew continued again, seemly to be speaking to himself, as he worked on his single thread of conversation. “Insisting to go on this voyage just because someone in my family said they did it years ago…” he sighed, the crinkling edges of frustration set off by the fingers he ran through his hair. “And yet, here I am, marooned and talking to thin air - ”
Han Geng slid his body back into the water.
“Wait, Geng!” Panic filled the timbres of his voice and turned into desperation. “I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just I’ve never fully seen you and you won’t come any closer like I have a disease or something and I don’t know if and I can’t - I just - ”
“You’re not going crazy,” Han Geng firmly said. “Tomorrow.” He paused. “Tomorrow, I will try to come earlier.”
***
Three days. In three days, Han Geng had already caved.
As he made ready to leave his house, an off duty solider called out to him, saluting him by way of greeting.
“Me and the boys haven’t seen you since the show. Haven’t seen much of you around here these days,” the solider said, shifting closer to dig an elbow playfully into Han Geng’s ribs. “A woman keepin’ ya busy?” he asked, fluttering his eyelids in a gross parody of a wink.
Han Geng forced a laugh and said, “No, not a woman.”
“Oh,” the solider said, taking a step back and looking uneasy. “Is it a man? That’s okay too. Listen, a couple of boys in the barracks are like that and they brought their partners right round, very nice -”
Han Geng smiled, offering neither a affirmation nor a contradiction to the soldier’s assumptions. “Where are ya headed to?” the solider asked instead, abruptly changing the topic in the face of Han Geng’s tranquil expression.
Han Geng looked at him, no trace of joking jocundity. “To live out the last of my life.”
He sighed in resignation at his own weakened state as he catered to Andrew’s unvoiced request to keep him company when he wasn’t even - He sighed again.
He clamored onto his rock during low tide, the sun glinting off the wet slick surfaces of his body and he sat and waited, his shoulders slightly hunched over with what he was about to do.
Hours later, as the sun yawned its exhaustion and began to dip across the sky, Andrew came traipsing down the beach, the broken branches of his firewood tucked neatly under his arm and flint inserted into the pocket of his pants. Then, he looked up and caught sight of Han Geng.
“Geng!” He cried, eyes wide with delight as he dropped all the branches he held in his grasp and happily splashed into the waves, spraying seawater everywhere he went.
His movements were awkward as the heavy material of the clothes - that he did not have the foresight to remove - dragged him down.
Andrew’s chest was rising and falling in quick succession when he finally reached the rock where Han Geng was sitting.
“Geng!” He cried again, dimple etching into his face as he smile widely. Then, just as soon as it appeared, it sank underneath the surface of his face and his mouth opened in a small ‘o’ of surprise as he took in the rest of Han Geng appearance.
“You’re a - a - ” he managed to stutter out.
Han Geng offered no response, patiently waiting for Andrew to finish his spluttering, water splashing around his body as it flickered in movement.
“But that’s impossible, you don’t - you can’t - ”
“Oh?” Han Geng said, making up his mind to risk everything for this encounter, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile. “As impossible as little princes falling off boats,” he ventured forth, and going further when Andrew continued to stare in shock. “And not knowing how to swim? Is it as impossible as that, your Majesty?”
Hey!” Andrew retorted, snapping back into attention at the implied insult to his family line. There was no trace of real anger in his voice or countenance as he answered however. “I can too swim! All the members of the Choi family are excellent swimmers. How can we not be? We do live by the - ” The puzzle pieces seemed to finally click together in place for Andrew as his eyes widened again.
“That means you, you were the one that saved me didn’t you - just like you saved - ”
Han Geng cut him off. “Your pants are getting soaked, your Highness. Honestly, who forgets to take off their clothes before running headfirst into the ocean? Did you know that the ocean is made out of really wet stuff?”
Andrew barely got a chance to defend himself before Han Geng rushed him towards the shore with orders to start a fire and dry himself off.
“But hyuuuung,” Andrew said, more than ready to off into his complaint.
Han Geng stilled. “What did you call me?”
“Hyung,” Andrew called over his shoulder. “It means older brother.”
Han Geng nodded, slow and careful as he made sure not to show that he knew exactly what it meant. After all, it had been another boy on this island who had first told, and then later showed, him the intricacies of his native tongue.
“I’ll stay with you until you get the fire going and dry off. And don’t even pretend you don’t know how to, you’ve been doing it for the past two days.”
Andrew pouted prettily and did as he was told. By the time the fire was roaring a deep crimson color, and his clothes were drying off before it, Han Geng had already disappeared under the next swell of ocean waves.
***
“Han Geng, do you realize what you’re asking for?” she said, looking at him though not unkindly, as he made his request.
“Human legs aren’t easy things to get used to. They’re weak and flighty. Not only will it take you a long time to get use to them, but every step you take will feel as though a thousand shards of broken shells are embedded deep into the soft flesh of your feet and every step you take allows them to dig in deeper and embed themselves in your skin.”
Han Geng nodded, his eyes bright and face set in a stubborn line of defiance.
Everyone received one wish in exchange for the pearl of their childhood. Some used it for themselves, exchanging it for transient beauty or marketable talent. Some saved it for emergencies, using it as a last resort when nothing else in the world worked.
It was the first time anyone had ever asked to be human.
“Han Geng,” she asked again, holding his face gently in between her two heavily spelled hands. “Please think about it. You won’t be a human forever. You can only spend half a year topside amongst them but there’s no guarantee everything will work out. He might never know about these feelings and even if he does, he might not return them.”
Han Geng opened his mouth to ask her how’d she known about that but catching the flash of otherworldliness in her eyes, he knew that of course, she knew everything.
“And if he doesn’t, your lifespan will be automatically cut in half.” For they who aged much slower then humans, this would be an eternity he would never get a chance to spend amongst his people.
“But…what if he does?” Han Geng asked, eyes desperately hopeful as he clutched the pearl, his pearl in between his hands.
She sighed. “I don’t know. They’re fickle creatures, Han Geng. They usually don’t. Not the same way as we love them.”
She looked at his steadfast face. “Please think about it.” He was about to disagree, stating that he had already made up his mind every since he had caught him in his arms during that storm. He had known it then and nothing was going to change his mind.
“Please,” she said, almost begging him to reconsider. “Think about it for one day. That’s all I ask,” she could already see the decision set in his eyes and she hurriedly blinked away her tears before he would notice.
He thought about it for a while, not saying anything as he turned the pearl over in his hands. He then nodded once and turned to leave.
The next day, he waited outside her gate, his pearl clutched tightly in his hands and his unwavering answer displayed across his face.
Han Geng woke, his eyes blinking rapidly in the muted lighting of his lonely bedroom.
It had been a while since he last had a remembrance dream, but he didn’t regret his decision.
He didn’t regret it then, just as how he wouldn’t regret it now.
Han Geng closed his eyes.
***
“Do you think they’ll find me?” Andrew asked Han Geng during the second week of his maroon-ment. Han Geng was floating on his back, drifting languidly and serenely by, causing minor ripples in the still waters of the small freshwater pond. The fish were swimming happily around him.
“They will.” Han Geng surety was set his voice as he answered without opening his eyes.
Andrew had been scared out of his wits when during his usual foray into the pond, he found Han Geng idly swimming there instead.
“How did you even get in here?” he asked, bafflement clearly defined in his voice while Han Geng merely rested his arms on the patch of grass surrounded the small pool.
“All bodies of water lead towards the ocean,” was his enigmatic answer as he produced several handfuls of plump clams to scatter at Andrew’s feet.
“Hmmm,” Andrew agreed half heartedly as he continued poking at the swirling flames.
“You brought him here when you saved him didn’t you,” Andrew stated, not lifting his head up from where the large lobster that Han Geng had gifted him with today was steaming by the fire.
“I did,” Han Geng stiffly answered.
“How…long did it take for the others to find him?” Andrew asked, rubbing his hand over the dark stubble on his chin.
“Not very long,” Han Geng carefully answered.
“And you went back with him?”
“I did.”
“Ah. I knew it must have been you, but I didn’t recognize you at first because of, well -” Andrew abruptly switched topics. “Did you know there are paintings of you two hanging in the castle?”
Of course Han Geng knew. He remembered those days, sitting for those portraits, trying to keep a straight face as he thought about what was for lunch. He remembered the warm feel of his hand in his own, and not knowing how to react when that sign of their affections never made it into the painting.
He remembered how much the simple act of walking actually pained him. It hurt more than the time he had been accidentally stung by a monster of a jellyfish and his body went through violent seizures as his mind froze in a deep paralysis. He had lain in the palace sick bay for weeks. It had hurt worse than when he had been run through with a badly shaped swordfish during a bloody skirmish. But, unlike the other wounds, the pain never abated, never fully went away.
With his warm, steady embrace around him though, the wailing siren of pain became muffled and was almost bearable.
Han Geng had spent his days in a daze of brightly colored happiness surrounded by the warm palpitations of love. He was surprised by soft caresses in the hallway, quick darts of kisses in the courtyard before they rounded the corner and joined with the rest of the royal procession, and he remembered laughing until he was breathless. And every night, he made a home for himself in the warm arms that always opened themselves to him.
He had spent half of his ticking time like this, learning their language, though the words never flew from his mouth as fluidly as it did from everyone else, and exploring their bright port city. At night, he laid down next to the man he gave up his world for and smiled. He was content.
Then one day, when the sun beaming down upon them, so bright that Han Geng had to shield his eyes, a rich caravan rolled to a stop in front of their doors. It bore the emblem of the neighboring country and carried with it indispensable goods. Among the large barrels of wine that the country had produced from their vastly superior vineyard, the caravan also yielded the tiny delicate woman that would be his wife.
He tried to hide his troubled expression from Han Geng, but Han Geng knew. He knew what words like treaty and political allegiance meant, and what the contract held between the small dainty hands of his fiancée meant. Han Geng knew what it meant when he could longer face Han Geng the same way again.
Han Geng knew about it the same way that he knew what he felt for her. Mayhaps it was a love born from obligation, of thinking of others before yourself, but it didn’t change the fact that he loved her.
They never spoke about it and Han Geng feigned ignorance upon the matter. He smiled the same way he always had before. He was still the same gentle man that everyone had come to know and respect at court and quietly, secretly, so nobody could blame him, he started to bottle his happiness deep inside himself.
His fiancée was everything a woman of the court should be, graceful, elegant and someone who knew where her rightful place was. Their marriage would cement an unsteady alliance between the two cities. It would stamp out the bubbling cries of war that started at the frontier lines and would establish an easy trade route that would be a favorable economical gain for all those involved.
They continued to live their lives as if nothing had changed, as if nothing was going to end. He still continued to return to their shared paradise every evening as he always had, but Han Geng could see his struggle, how he suffered to lie on two accounts.
He struggled with making the choice between happiness and duty, between want of an individual and the want of a nation, between the promise they had made as they laid in bed together with their hands intertwined and the promise that had been made when he became the first born prince.
So on the last day of the half year that Han Geng had been granted, he made the decision for him. With his heart so full that it could not hold any more without bleeding over, as the hyung, and as a foreigner in their world, he made the decision for him.
He left.
With his heart close to bursting, filled with all the things he could not say, he leaned down to trace a kiss of love across his forehead, down his closed fluttering eyelids caught in a dream, across those soft cheeks and ending at his parted lips.
He left first, leaving the gold ring that held the whispers of their promises, and it glimmered in the dying rays of the sun.
Then, where he dove into the frothy waves of the ocean that welcomed her son back, he cried, where nobody else could see his tears.
***
It was after a month after Andrew had been thrown overboard and flung into the ocean that Han Geng spied the royal colors of the naval ships approaching the island. It was a large hulking armada, looking for their lost prince, and was so different from that one lone ship that had housed another prince years before.
Andrew spotted them moments after Han Geng did and he ran down the slope, kicking up sand as he flew down the beach his arms waving as he hailed the ships.
Han Geng smiled and slid quietly underneath the quiet waves.
***
The sun was making its slow descent across the horizon and he was filled with the coppery heat and muted glow of it by the time he found Han Geng.
Han Geng didn’t mind. He had waited years for him, and could wait a little longer.
He was much older now, light no longer caught in his midnight steeped hair. It was now as white as first hushed blanket of snow in the winter. He walked slowly, no longer the young colt that challenged Han Geng to race him across the planks of the sailing ships or ran down the sandy slopes of the beach with his carefree laughter filling the air around them.
His face was lined, smile lines crinkling as they cradled his eyes, and frown lines lining the edges of his mouth where he liked to worry the bottom of his lip.
But to Han Geng, whose eyes had filmed over with love, Siwon looked exactly the same to him as he did when he first saved him from his wretched ship so many years ago.
To Han Geng, Siwon just simply looked like love.
“Han Geng,” Siwon exhaled when he finally reached the rock where Han Geng had first rested all those years ago. "You look just as I remember."
Han Geng smiled softly, feeling his heart slowly ticking down. “As do you Siwon,” he said reaching out to touch the face of the first and only man he ever loved.
“Your grandson seems to have repeated your adventures at sea.”
“Great grandson,” Siwon replied, the last rays of the sun caught in his smile. It was the same smile that Han Geng recalled from years ago, when all that filled their days were the sounds of the ocean’s waves and the future stretched out wide, spilling over with a thousand possibilities scattered out before them.
Han Geng smiled, eyes slowly going dim in the night that descended on them. So soon? He asked himself, leaning forward to rest in Siwon’s outstretched arms that easily caught him.
Siwon’s fingers were bare and as Han Geng struggled to look up, his eyes growing heavy, he saw the glint of two gold rings hanging from the thin chain around Siwon’s neck.
“Han Geng,” the sea witch warned him as she cradled his pearl in her palms. “If you return to the ocean when your time is up, the next time you see him, you’ll die. You know that, right?”
I know, Han Geng whispered, tucked safe in Siwon’s arms.
“Han Geng?” Siwon’s worried voice seemed to call to him from far away sounding like waves crashing into the shore.
“Hmmm?” Han Geng asked, barely able to keep his eyes open.
Distantly, he felt Siwon slide something onto his finger.
“This has always been yours. Come, it’s time to go home,” Siwon said, leaning over to kiss him.
***
There was something strangely startling when Leeteuk announced that they were going to go on vacation.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked, giving the rest of the members the pretense of a choice, as though management hadn’t already decided for them.
Siwon didn’t even know how to describe - or even how to begin to describe - the look in Hankyung’s eyes, or the rat-tat-tattling he felt in his chest, when Hankyung turned to him. In that instant, his eyes, by some trick of the light, burned an unfathomable shade of sapphire as he asked, “Have you ever been to the ocean?”
Why did he feel like he had?