Angelfish (Part One)
Title: Angelfish
Pairing: YunJae
Length: One-shot
Genre: AU, Supernatural, Post-apocalyptic
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: butchering religious concepts
Summary: Yunho was used to oily birds, fridges, bicycles and even rusty car bodies; but that day, something entirely different got caught in his nets.
Yunho reached for the float. It was his first net of the day, the one he had set closest to the shore. He didn’t set that many nets anyway, spending most of his day trawling the seafloor with the bottom trawl attached to the end of his small boat. The gillnets he used were more like a memorial, something he set close to a small islet every night and checked every morning, if only for the sake of times so old he had never witnessed them himself.
He didn’t even like checking them very much. Most mornings, the sea was oily close to the shoreline. The greasy surface reflected all shades of rainbow in slick, floating circles when the sun finally started peeking from behind the horizon, sheepishly asking for permission to rise. At a time, he had tried checking the gillnets before sunrise in order to escape facing the foul sight, but after birds started getting caught in his nets, he had abandoned the idea. He hadn’t been able to determine their condition in the dark. After he had made the mistake of bringing a half-dead, hypothermic bird back home a few times, just to end up having to put them down after discovering they were hardly breathing anymore, he had resumed checking the nets after dawn.
It was better to end the pathetic birds’ lives immediately if they were suffering too greatly. Even so, to this day, Yunho checked each bird carefully, going through their oily feathers with soft touches, pulling their tired eyes gently open to inspect them carefully for possible infections. Sometimes the birds were shivering violently, lazy to react to Yunho’s touches in any way, their breathing as slow as a human being’s. He knew immediately those were the ones he had to kill, the ones so oily Yunho could hardly hold them in his hands without his grip slipping. Their eyes would be yellowish and dull or alternatively red and running, legs limp and sluggish, sides thin. They never made a sound when Yunho wrung their necks, freeing them from their undeserved fate.
But if the bird resisted at all, made any tired attempt at pecking the hand helping to untangle it from the knots, Yunho would eagerly place it in the large white Styrofoam box he had set on the deck next to the cabin. It was equipped with an old, shabby yellow blanket he used to keep the algid birds warm.
Saving birds from oil and relieving the lost cases from their pain was an ample if a much detested part of Yunho’s day. Lately, he would find them even at his own home shore. Most of the birds caught in his nets where lesser ones, auks and shearwaters and seagulls-lots of seagulls-and the occasional gannet; but he had seen a few cormorants too, and once, he found a mute swan staggering on the shallow rock next to his humble pier. The swan had been a sickly grey in colour, black streaks running down its elegant wings that were dragging against the ground, saturated and heavy with the polluting substance.
Yunho had been extremely glad when he had had to chase the bird for a good quarter of an hour before he had managed to catch it. It had definitely been a positive sign; and true to Yunho’s hopeful estimate, the bird had been out of his small, self-built rehabilitation centre in less than two weeks.
The same could not have been said about the great frigatebird he had found lying on his front step a day later. Yunho had seen death in its eyes, but entranced by its warm, red chest-a patch of bright colour so rare at the high seas where days were grey and nights were greyer-he had tried his best.
The next day when the bird had died with a miserable gurgle out of its famished throat, Yunho had smashed the window on his hut’s northern wall in his helpless fury.
A day after, calmed down, while he had covered the pitiful window with a rickety piece of panel on both the inner and the outer side, he had held himself a short self-reflection session. No birds with dead eyes, he had reminded himself. Not even if the bird is red. You’ll only end up disappointed.
When Yunho noticed him for the first time, he thought it was another swan, tangled in the nets. From a distance, the curled up creature looked no bigger than a large adult bird. Worrying whether he’d be able to fit it in his Styrofoam box, Yunho nervously started hauling the net up. There was a small, plucked seagull trapped in the net first, scaled legs painfully intertwined in the knotted string. Yunho grabbed it firmly around its chest, hand secured on its beak so it wouldn’t be able to peck his hand. Uttering comforting words to it in a low voice, he untied the net effectively, the bird releasing pitiful, high-pitched warning cries. Yunho stroked its greasy feather coat, frowning at the saturating oil that was preventing the bird from flying. After fastening the net securely around a handle on the side of the rail of his boat, he hurried to deposit the bird into the makeshift nest he had prepared. He placed it down carefully, folding the worn-out blanket loosely on top of it.
He then quickly returned to the net, pulling the sea green puzzle of strings up carefully, wary and heedful of any other possible helpless animals, despite his hurry to get to the large white bird.
When he finally reached the white creature he had thought to be a swan, he was taken aback, almost dropping the net he was always holding in a seasoned fisherman’s vice-like grip. The creature was heaving thoroughly in rhythm to its slowed breathing, large wings covering its shivering body. Just from the position of its upright wings Yunho could already see it was no bird. Birds’ damaged wings were always awkwardly spread, drooping down like unnecessary additions to their thin bodies, flailing around flaccidly when they tried to fight against Yunho’s rescue attempts. This one was clearly hugging itself underneath them, trying to hide from Yunho’s sight. With occasional tired bursts of energy, it tried to free itself of the tangled strings cutting sharply into its delicate feathers.
Yunho pulled the net slightly upwards; a weight very light, but still greater than even the largest bird’s, was dragging down his efforts. The creature was slightly lifted, and under Yunho’s flustered stare it moved its other wing slightly, forming a narrow gap between the magnificent pinions. A large, reddened eye met his gaze, blinking rapidly, widened and unfocused pupil filled with great fear. Its lashes were burdened by yellowish mucus, runny liquid seeping down despite the constant blinking, forming a sad white streak on a cheek otherwise tainted by oil.
It took Yunho a few moments to snap out of it, but soon he was bending over the rail of his boat, reaching his hand out to touch the creature. It flinched at his outstretched hand, wings drawing back but still not covering the panicky eye darting about Yunho’s approaching form.
“There, there,” he hummed in an attempt to calm the fearful creature down, ”I am just helping you. I will help you free of this net, don’t worry, shhhh…”
His fingertips reached the creature’s wing, sliding against the filthy, soft feathers. Never pausing the constant flow of calming nonsense coming out of his mouth, Yunho caressed the appendage gently. The creature seemed to relax slightly, body still trembling underneath the protective cover of its wings but it didn’t make any further desperate escape attempts. Sliding his hand against the feather coat until it reached the strings of the net, Yunho hooked a few fingers between the knots and the creature’s skin. Its plumage was scattered with strips of blood, snapped feathers sticking out in odd directions. He could feel its chafed skin under his fingertips, emerging under the bent feathers, friable and exposed.
With a quick, firm movement of one hand, he unsheathed the short, sturdy knife he always carried on his waist, bringing it forth to shear the strings open. When the creature saw the weapon, it started struggling frantically, letting out small breathy cries.
Yunho tried to secure the wing under his hand, afraid of attempting to use the knife while the creature was resisting.
“Shhh, I’m not going to hurt you, I have to cut the net open if I want to free you,” he tried to coax the panicking being, holding the knife safely away from it. “You need to stop struggling, I cannot do this if you are moving. Shhh, shush now…”
When the creature showed no sign of ceasing its resistance, Yunho was forced to perform an action he had wanted to avoid if only possible, worried of the damage it might do to the creature’s wings. He extracted his hands and pulled at the net, dragging the creature up onto the deck alongside with it.
What he saw was even more wondrous than what he had expected. Tangled in his net, now even worse than before due to the on-going fight, was a scrawny boy, wings larger than himself projecting from his protruding shoulder blades. Feathers ran down his spine, whole body covered in thin down, currently black and greasy with oil, sticking against his skin like the fur of a drowned rat. The boy’s complexion, as much of it as was visible underneath the filth covering his whole body, was pale, tinting towards a mix of purple and sickly turquoise on his fingers and toes, thin blue veins running visible under the filmy cover of his skin.
The boy was staring at him, red eyes still running, too afraid to move in the slightest. Carefully, Yunho kneeled before him, a palm offered open as a sign of peace, other hand holding the knife behind his back so that the boy wouldn’t notice it. The boy’s face was gaunt, cheekbones sticking out so sharply Yunho was afraid to touch his face as it looked like it was made of rice paper. He kept murmuring in a low, comforting voice as he reached his arm out and softly gathered the boy across his lap, burying the other's face onto the surface of his coarse woollen jumper. He held the boy down firmly before easing the knife between the strings and the feathers of his wings, cutting the net with precise slashes of the blade. The boy didn’t move. Whether he was frozen with fear, slipping into unconsciousness, or just tired from all the struggling, Yunho didn’t know; but his skin was slippery and cold underneath his touch, as if Yunho had lifted a block of ice on his lap.
Just like the birds, the oil had soaked the boys’ feathers and the protective down, allowing the chilly seawater directly on his skin. Yunho didn’t know how long the boy had been floating in the water, but even if Yunho had only set his net the night before, the poor little creature could have been marred by the oil even days earlier.
In that case, his hypothermia would be at a severe stage. Judging from the boy’s slow breathing, his heart rate had already decreased gravely. After carefully detaching the cut down strings from the boy’s feathers, mindful of the deep, thin cuts on his skin, Yunho quickly placed two fingers on the boy’s neck and a hand on his own, comparing their pulse rate.
The boy’s pulse was less than half in speed compared to the rhythm of his own blood.
Yunho pushed the boy back slightly, hastily shucking his raincoat and pulling his thick, grey jumper over his head. Carefully hooking his hands underneath the boy’s arms, trying to avoid touching his injured wings, he pulled the boy tightly against his bare chest, knowing full well that body heat was the best way to warm up an algid body. Supporting the scrawny, naked kid against his body easily with one arm, he hooked the boy’s legs around his waist the best he could, the poor thing’s lethargic muscles unable to help Yunho in his task. He picked up the jumper and tried to arrange it over the boy’s narrow shoulders, but the drooping wings prevented him from really getting it around the boy’s body close enough to actually warm him up. Bunching the raincoat under the arm he was supporting the boy’s bottom with, Yunho slowly stood up before tucking the boy’s drenched head against his neck. He tried to place the boy’s frozen fingers under his own armpits, knowing them to be one of the warmest spots on his whole body, but the boy’s limp, feeble arms kept dropping down so he had to give up.
The boy’s lightness was highly disconcerting, especially considering the added weight of his wings saturated with oil and water. Yunho had seen his eyes and knew he was suffering from infections; but more than that, he was worried of the boy’s malnourished appearance. Living on a small, rocky island alone, Yunho hardly had any foodstuff suitable for nursing a starved being. The inspector usually only brought him canned food and sacks of rice, millet, and occasionally a few of beans.
Praying he still had some beef stock left in the freezer so that he could make the boy some savoury porridge, Yunho threw the end of the net over the rail, back into the sea. The net sank down in a straggly pile, the float popping up and down on the waves. Yunho would have to collect it another day.
Slowly walking over to the wheel with the boy attached to his front, legs dangling down on both sides of his thighs, wrapped inside the woollen jumper and the raincoat the best he could manage, Yunho peeked over the edge of the Styrofoam box to check on his other protégé. The seagull was lying down, eyes closed, but from the slight rise of its back Yunho could see it was still breathing.
There was a constant drizzle that occasionally escalated into a heavier shower, beating against Yunho's back. With the ice-cold creature fixed against his chest, he fought the goosebumps attempting to break out on his skin as he started steering the boat towards his home island.
When the trawler finally bumped against Yunho's small pier, the boy was starting to stir, rubbing his face slightly against Yunho’s bare skin. Yunho’s chest and thick trousers were soaked in oil by now, but the man hardly paid any attention to the filth spreading over his skin from the boy’s body. The boy’s feet that had been swinging around uselessly were sneaking around his legs slowly, until the boy finally managed to cross his ankles on the back of Yunho’s thighs. After shutting down the engine, Yunho placed both of his hands under the boy’s behind and hoisted him upwards, settling his legs around his waist. Yunho’s arms had started growing weary despite the boy’s rather non-existent weight, and he was thankful for the added support. For a second time, he tried tucking the boy’s still frigid fingers under his armpits, and this time his frail limbs had enough strength to remain resting upwards against Yunho’s sides.
Yunho had to get to the sauna fast. However, fastening the boat onto the bollards or even jumping down from the deck-small, ordinary everyday tasks he usually did without giving them one thought-suddenly seemed exceedingly difficult to execute. Yunho walked to the Styrofoam box and bent down awkwardly sideways, dragging it over to the rail while trying to keep the boy from sliding down. When he reached the rail, he paused his administrations, lost. He couldn’t leave the seagull in the boat either, since once he would get to the sauna he couldn’t possibly leave the boy there alone.
Glad that he had wrapped the seagull inside the blanket earlier, he sat down on the deck, legs dangling over the rail. Now that his arms were free as the boy was just sitting on his lap, he managed to lift up the tired bird and hug it next to his side with the arm he kept under the boy’s bottom.
It was quite an acrobatic performance, he but did manage to manoeuvre all three of them down to the pier, the boy releasing a pained whimper when Yunho accidentally bumped his feet against the boat’s side. The bird, however, remained quiet.
Finally on his two feet safely on shore, Yunho started jogging towards the small wooden shack he had built on the western side of the island. He had always been quite proud of the result, but never had he known it would actually prove so useful. He had already washed countless birds off the oil covering them, letting them rest in the small corral he had built behind the sauna, feeding them until they finally were strong enough to fly away.
The inspector had started questioning his need for absurd amounts of detergent soon, but when he’d shown his little bird hospital to the man, he had only laughed and squeezed Yunho’s shoulder. It’s good you have ways to keep yourself entertained out here, he had said. I get the shivers every time I come here and I only come here once every two months.
After that Yunho had always gotten any amount of detergent he had asked for.
Yunho heaved the front door open, hurrying through the entranceway and opening a second door leading to the sauna itself. Placing the quiet bird on a bench, he quickly walked over to the boiler with the boy still glued against his chest, silently thanking every god out there that he had boiled a full boiler of water the night before. When he lifted the lid, he could see the water was still steaming.
He retrieved a large washing basin, filling it with cold water from the faucet he had set up, extending the water pipe from his home to the sauna. Picking up a ladle, he shovelled some hot water into the basin, carefully testing it and mixing in more until he was content with the temperature. He knew too well pouring hot water on a hypothermic body would not end up well, and so he mixed the waters until it was around his own body temperature.
Quickly shucking off his boots and trousers, leaving only his boxers on, he also threw away his woollen jumper and raincoat that had been bundled around the boy’s narrow body before sitting down on the bench next to the seagull, the boy straddling his lap. The boy’s ankles fell down from where they had been crossed over Yunho’s back. However, when Yunho tried pull the boy back a little so that he could start with washing their chests, the boy’s arms suddenly fastened around his neck as he pressed himself even closer to Yunho. Helpless, the man ran his hands down the boy’s feathery spine, stroking his slick skin in a calming manner.
“I’m just going to wash this oil off you now. Hmm? I’m all dirty myself too… I need to get this off, I promise I’ll make you something to eat after we’re clean. Hmm?”
The boy’s only answer was a tightening grip. Yunho’s sighed, lifting his other hand to pet the boy’s greasy hair before sliding him slightly to the side, so that he was sitting only on Yunho’s other thigh.
“I’ll wash the bird first then, is that okay? You can watch.”
There was no answer, but without waiting for one Yunho reached under the bench where he stored the detergent. He poured some into the washing basin before wordlessly unwrapping the seagull from the yellow blanket and lifting it against his thigh. He picked up the ladle and started lathering the bird with the warm water, carefully working his hand through every feather. He stretched its white wings outwards, noting that some of its largest primary feathers were damaged or completely missing, making the bird’s wings look quite pathetic and naked. Yunho was quite worried of their state; even though the bird was sure to recover its energy, the severe condition of its feathers might endanger its ability to fly.
Sighing, Yunho folded the wings back up against the bird’s body after carefully washing underneath them. He paid extra close attention to the seagull’s head, carefully rubbing over its eyelids while holding its beak, forcing it to keep still.
When he finally got around to rinsing the detergent imbued water off the bird, Yunho noticed that the boy had lifted his head slightly, staring at the bird intently with one eye, half of his face still buried onto Yunho’s neck. His both arms were still tightly wound up around Yunho’s neck, but Yunho could feel his fingers weren’t as cold anymore as before. After wrapping the cleaned bird back inside the blanket where it seemed to start dozing off right away, Yunho pulled to boy back fully onto his lap, placing his hands on the boy’s cheeks to carefully pry him off his skin.
He knew hypothermic people hardly acted rationally, but the boy seemed to be regaining both his body warmth and his senses. Deeming it a good time for a second try, Yunho pushed the boy’s face backwards, and this time the boy’s arms gave in, slackening their grip around his neck.
His eyes were still running incessantly and his face was as dirty as before, and Yunho could feel the oil the other had rubbed against his skin trickling down his shoulder. But the look in the boy’s eyes was sharper than before, only slight hesitance marring the wide pools of black. The boy’s pupils were indeed black, nothing like any other pair of eyes Yunho had ever seen before; the colour was darker than the oil staining the skin around them. His hair was of a similar raven shade, sticking to the sides of his face, a few strands even entering his slightly ajar lips that were hardly distinguishable in colour from the rest of his face. Yunho shifted one of his hands to pry the sticky strands out of his mouth, smoothing his hair back, out of his face.
“Alright,” he murmured, still maintain the same reassuring tone he had been using on the boy all the while. He didn’t look scared anymore, but Yunho didn’t want to take any risks as he pried the boys other arm off him, picking up the ladle to start cleaning his skin. The oil stuck to his down and at points Yunho had to add more detergent directly on his skin, but slowly he managed to wash him, part by part. Eventually, he only had the injured wings left, having washed his back just by reaching over the boy’s shoulder and around his waist. Even his feet were clean now, even though in contrast to his otherwise snow-white body, they were still stiff and purple. Yunho had almost felt like crying when he scrubbed his chilly toes, massaging them in order to get the blood circulating properly in them again. The birds were so much easier, their bodies one tight ball so that when the warmth returned, it happened quite fast; but with the poor boy’s long, frail limbs, it took a long time until his newly regained body warmth reached the outermost parts.
The boy’s breathing was quicker than before, his protruding ribs heaving up and down in rhythm to it. There were some scratches and quite a lot of bruises on his body, but Yunho knew the deepest cuts the net had caused on his skin were on his wings. He had no desire to try washing the delicate appendages blindly from the position they were in now, so the only option was to somehow convince the boy to get off his lap.
It really seemed like easier said than done, considering his earlier behaviour. However, Yunho also needed to bring the bird to the corral and feed it before he took the boy to his hut, so he would have to go through with it in any case.
Yunho threw one more ladle of warm water on top of the boy’s head, rinsing his black hair. The boy lifted his hands to his face immediately, rubbing the water off his eyes, bubbles trailing down his collarbones.
“Would you…” Yunho started hesitantly, and the boy lowered his hands from his eyes, staring Yunho right in the eye. His gaze was piercing, and it threw Yunho slightly off, making him forget what he was aiming to do for a short moment. Then, he placed his palms on the boy’s waist, and to his great surprise, the boy made no effort to stop him when Yunho slid him off his lap, sitting him down on the bench next him. He brushed the boy’s shoulder length hair away and turned his body away from himself so that the boy's wings were in front of him.
The boy’s wings were magnificent even in their tainted state. They looked like they were animate even when they were still, slight tremors constantly running throughout them like pulses of energy. The feathers were long and elegant, neatly tucked against each other. Here and there, there were a few broken ones, breaking the fine, systematic order, sticking out in a conspicuous way. Especially the boy’s left wing had suffered greatly from the net, bloodied stumps jutting out depressingly around paper cut thin wounds.
Yunho reached his hand forward to touch the trembling appendix. The wing caved under his touch, pliantly bending closer to the boy’s body when Yunho stroked it with an open palm.
“This might sting,” Yunho whispered before holding up a ladle of water blended with detergent and pouring it over the wing. He rubbed the foam on gently, flinching every time the wing jerked under his touch. Washing the oil off was easy enough for him, but the blood made him cringe. The cuts were quite deep and Yunho was sure he’d have to disinfect and bandage them properly. The only problem was, he had never treated any wings like that. The bird’s wounds he mostly left to themselves; if the birds were well enough they cured quite fast as long as they got fed properly. He was worried he would further damage the feathers if he tied them in an inappropriate manner.
Feather by feather, Yunho cleaned the shuddering wings. Their almost blinding whiteness uncovered gradually, making Yunho feel as if he was looking at something he shouldn’t be, something not meant for his eyes. Pushing such useless thoughts out of his head, he stood up to retrieve one last basin of water so that he could efficiently rinse off all the remaining detergent on both of them. His own legs were still greyish, but he thought he could just scrub himself more thoroughly the next day; the boy was the priority after all.
Before he could take one step away, slender arms snuck around his thigh. He looked down to see the boy sluggishly hugging his leg, looking up at him with alarmed eyes. He tousled his hair, trying to detach his hands from his leg.
“I’m only mixing you more water,” Yunho said, and the boy stared at him for a moment longer before pulling his arms back reluctantly. Yunho walked over to the faucet, but while he waited for the basin to fill with cold water, he couldn’t resist glancing back at the boy. He was sitting on the edge of the bench, keeping watch over Yunho, like a hawk ready to dive down from a treetop as soon as a hare appeared.
Yunho stretched his lips into what he hoped to be a friendly smile and waved at the boy even though there were only two metres between them. He reckoned doing all he could to affirm the boy he wasn’t leaving could do no harm. The boy didn’t reciprocate his actions in any way, his eyes barely skimming over Yunho’s moving hand, instead fixed on his face.
After pouring in a few ladles of hot water from the boiler, he walked back to the boy who seemed to relax when Yunho was back within his reach. After rinsing the boy’s wings carefully, he dumped the rest over the boy’s head, turning the whole basin over. The boy spluttered, surprised, and glared at Yunho after he got his eyes open again. His eyes were still swollen and red, but they were running considerably less now that his skin was clean, small trails of transparent liquid dripping down his cheeks. Yunho bent down to thumb the secretion away.
“Sit here. I will be back in a second, I’m taking the bird to its home now. Okay?” he asked, stroking the boy’s sharp cheekbones, feeling the thinness of his face under his palms. The boy’s penetrating gaze was on him for a moment before he turned his eyes to look at the slumbering seagull and nodded slowly.
It was the first time he showed any sign of actually understanding what Yunho had said.
Yunho took one last, concerned look at him before picking the bird up and stepping outside of the sauna. The morning air was chilly on his wet, naked skin, but he if anyone was used to extreme weather conditions and such, living all year around on the small island in the middle of the sea.
Yunho jogged over to the corral, opening the small door to the chain-link cage. There were several small boxes on the ground, filled with hay and a small blanket. None of them were occupied at the moment, only one other bird in the corral. It was eating, head half buried in the fish parings Yunho mostly fed them. It looked up warily when Yunho entered, but when the man didn’t walk any closer, it just continued gobbling down the smelly scraps.
Yunho spared the bird a glance, walking promptly to a box to put the seagull into. He arranged the yellow blanket around it and grabbed the closest water bowl, pulling it next to the box and lowering the bird near to it. He made sure it drank some before arranging it into the box comfortably, with the blanket around it but not too tight so that it could get out whenever it wanted.
Yunho had been feeling anxious from the moment he had left the boy alone in the sauna, something inside his mind telling him it was really not a good choice to make. As soon as the bird was safe and sound, he stood up, racing out of the cage, barely slowing down to close the door after himself. He hurried up the front stairs of the small building and wrenched both doors open as fast as he could.
It made him stop dead in his tracks, the empty bench in front of him. Only the half empty detergent bottle and the washing basin greeted him back, looking lonely the way they were laying on the wooden surface.
Then he heard a quiet whimper, so quiet he could’ve missed it under the sound of running water.
Running water. Yunho turned his head and there the boy was, sitting under the faucet that had been turned on full force, ice-cold water beating down on his skin. He looked extremely miserable and wet with his hair glued to his scalp, legs bent in awkward angles. Even with the shock, it took Yunho less than a second to fly forwards, wrench the kid out of the water and pull him against his chest. The boy let out a startled cry, wriggling inside his embrace.
“What are you doing, you crazy kid,” he started scolding the other, out of breath, “you have hypothermia! I need to have you warm, not under an icy shower, god, what are you doing…”
The boy jerked when Yunho rubbed his arms in order to get them warm again and let out another wail. Yunho pulled back slightly, just enough to notice there was a new wound on the boy’s body-a burn on his right shoulder. It wasn’t too wide, but from the redness of the skin Yunho could already see it would blister. The boy raised his arm, and when Yunho followed it to the direction of his outstretched finger, he saw the boiler. Even though he had boiled water in it the night before, the large amount of hot water kept the metal barrel searing for long hours.
“Oh god,” Yunho sighed, adjusting the faucet so that the water fell down slightly more gently. He tried to arrange them under it so that the boy didn’t have to shower his whole body with the cold water. It was awkward as the faucet was quite low and the boy’s large wings restricted their movement a lot.
“Didn’t I tell you to sit there on the bench until I came back? What were you trying to do… I bet your legs don’t even work yet, an hour ago you couldn’t even force your muscles to keep you legs crossed around my waist… That’s it right? You fell down right? Ah, what should I do with you… Tie you onto the bench or what…”
Yunho kept babbling to the boy, rubbing his palms continuously over the boy’s arms, trying his best to keep him warm despite the chilly water pouring down on them. A burn on hypothermic skin was not a thing to be taken lightly, but the boy really needed to be completely warmed up, finally.
They sat there for around ten minutes, but when the boy’s head started nodding and his limbs turning sluggish again, Yunho turned the faucet off, heedless of the burning red skin on the boy shoulder. He would just have to put some salve on it, the boy couldn’t afford any more time under cold water. Gathering the boy’s legs around his waist again, he pulled himself up and picked up the largest towel he could find before sitting down on the bench. He dried them carefully, the boy’s forehead resting against his shoulder the whole time, breath coming out in puffs against Yunho’s collarbone, slower once again but this time because of sleep.
Not knowing what to do with his wings, Yunho just dabbed them lightly, cautious of the broken feathers. The boy seemed to be steadily slumbering, hardly reacting to his actions in any way. When his cool skin had been ridded of all moistness, Yunho stood up and quickly slid down his oil-dirtied boxers, kicking the pile of dirty clothes away from the centre of the floor, closer to the wall. He slipped his feet into his boots before wrapping the towel tightly around them both and taking a deep breath. He stood in front of the door for a second before bolting out.
One arm under the boy’s behind, the other around the boy’s back, he tried to shield him from the drizzle the best he could. Fortunately the island he lived on was really quite small-the first time in his life he thought it to be fortunate-and it took him only a few dozen steps to reach the front door of his hut. He never bothered to lock it, as there were no other people around, so he just wrenched the door open and ran inside, slamming it close right after him.
Standing on the doorstep with the boy wrapped in a thick towel perched on his hip, Yunho let his heart calm down after the sprint and the warmth inside the room linger around his naked body. First of all, he needed to have the boy drink something, as he had been floating around in salty seawater for an indefinite time; he was sure to be dehydrated.
Kicking his boots off, Yunho stepped further into the room, walking over to his small chest of drawers and pulling one open. He rummaged through the pile of singular socks and crumbled t-shirts before he found a pair of clean underwear. With much difficulty, he managed to wiggle his other foot in, the other following. Squirming his body in what would have surely been a comical sight had the situation not been so serious, changing the hand he utilised every few seconds, he managed to shimmy the piece of clothing up his body.
Still reluctant to put the boy down as the poor thing’s whole body had broken out in goosebumps again, Yunho went to his gas stove and turned it on, thanking his luck when he managed to lit the fire with just one match. Scratching it against the box and trying to keep the boy from sliding down while peeking over his shoulder was quite a complicated task, and Yunho had to also be careful with the slightly drooping wings, keeping them as far away from the fire as possible. He walked over to his fridge-freezer, opening the bottom part. If he remembered right, he still had some of the beef stock the inspector had brought him the last time he had visited. He had presented the broth his wife had made as if it was some rare exotic delicacy.
Despite everything, Yunho had to admit the inspector had at least one virtue; he truly loved his wife. To Yunho’s great fortune, the said wife happened to be a rather decent cook.
Finding the grey-lidded box, Yunho shoved the freezer door shut and dumped the icy contents of the box to the closest kettle he could find, lifting it to sit over the blue fire. He was getting rather tired from carrying the boy around, so he went to sit on his bed, uncurling the boy’s legs from around his waist, re-arranging him sideways on his lap so that he could continue his sleep in a more comfortable position. The boy’s arms were still around his neck, but rather slackly, threatening to fall off at any moment. Yunho yanked the blanket out from underneath himself and pulled it over the boy’s legs, gathering the towel more tightly against him as well. Resting his back against the wall, he watched the kettle, waiting for the melting substance inside it to start steaming.
Yunho wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep himself, despite the hour being well before midday, but when he opened his eyes the next time, the kettle was boiling, sounds of popping bubbles reverberating inside the silent hut. He stood up quickly, almost forgetting that the boy was wholly on his lap now, but managed to weasel the boy’s legs in a different position before he fell down. Yunho hurried to the stove, turning the gas off before he lifted the kettle and placed it under the faucet, pouring some cold water in to make the stock into a pleasant, warm soup. He then poured the broth into a large mug, and sitting on one of the two chairs he owned, he placed the mug on the table.
Prying the boy’s hands off his neck, Yunho rubbed his forearm to wake him up.
“Hey, kid. You have to drink now before going to sleep,” he murmured. The boy’s head barely moved from his shoulder, tilting sideways when Yunho continued to try to get him sit upright. Yunho shook his shoulder slightly and the boy stirred, red eyes opening but hardly seeing anything. An alarming amount of liquid streamed down his cheek the moment his eyelids opened. He blinked, unable to focus his eyes, but Yunho just picked the mug from the table and nudged it against his lips. As long as the boy could swallow, he was awake enough.
The boy turned his head away from the mug, his brow furrowing, but Yunho kept placing it on his lips again and again, trying to coax him with gentle words at the same time.
“I promise you you can sleep however long you want after you just finish this,” he murmured.
When they boy finally noticed the annoying item in front of his face wasn’t going anywhere, he tried widening his eyes in order to make sense of everything, but Yunho could see he was still barely conscious. Yunho shoved the mug against his mouth a little more firmly this time, and when the boy cracked his lips open, Yunho elevated the mug, forcing the boy to tip his head slightly backwards. In the safe position, he let the warm broth flow down in small ratios, giving the boy ample time to finish swallowing during every pause. It took them quite long, but in the end he did manage to feed the whole mug to the boy, even refilling it with plain water and cajoling it down the boy’s throat as well.
Even such slight effort seemed to exhaust the boy totally, especially after all the stress he had had to endure in the sauna, and when he finally finished drinking, he buried his face firmly onto Yunho’s shoulder, a clear sign that he wasn’t going to have any more. Yunho sighed, placed the mug in the sink and walked back to the bed, caressing the boy’s raven hair and whispering encouraging words to him, feeling as if he was praising a child on a job well done.
He knew he couldn’t really let the boy lie down before he had treated his burn and the wounds on his wings, but the boy certainly didn't have to be awake for that. Collecting his small first aid kit, Yunho rubbed some soothing balm on the burn before covering it with a few dressings and wrapping a bandage over his arm and even around his chest, just to keep it firmly in place. With the thin cuts on he boy’s wings, he settled with just disinfecting them. He was quite sure he would only further bother the delicate feathers, many already broken or stubbed, if he tried bandaging them.
Lying himself down on the bed, still clad only in his boxers in order to warm up the other’s small body as much as be could, he pulled the boy to lie halfway on top of his chest before carefully folding up his wings and pulling the blanket over both of them. He tried to warm the other’s cold toes between his own legs, and tucked his fingers under his own body too, pulling the boy as close as possible.
The small creature curled into himself, soft puffs of breath hitting Yunho’s neck. The man was not tired at all as he had barely just woken up for the day; but as he was used to silent, uneventful days, lying there under the boy, lending him his body warmth was not a hard task for Yunho. He lay awake for hours, adjusting the boy every time he seemed uncomfortable, careful of his wings and his wounded shoulder, until he finally fell asleep himself when the room started to dim with falling darkness.
→
Pairing: YunJae
Length: One-shot
Genre: AU, Supernatural, Post-apocalyptic
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: butchering religious concepts
Summary: Yunho was used to oily birds, fridges, bicycles and even rusty car bodies; but that day, something entirely different got caught in his nets.
Yunho reached for the float. It was his first net of the day, the one he had set closest to the shore. He didn’t set that many nets anyway, spending most of his day trawling the seafloor with the bottom trawl attached to the end of his small boat. The gillnets he used were more like a memorial, something he set close to a small islet every night and checked every morning, if only for the sake of times so old he had never witnessed them himself.
He didn’t even like checking them very much. Most mornings, the sea was oily close to the shoreline. The greasy surface reflected all shades of rainbow in slick, floating circles when the sun finally started peeking from behind the horizon, sheepishly asking for permission to rise. At a time, he had tried checking the gillnets before sunrise in order to escape facing the foul sight, but after birds started getting caught in his nets, he had abandoned the idea. He hadn’t been able to determine their condition in the dark. After he had made the mistake of bringing a half-dead, hypothermic bird back home a few times, just to end up having to put them down after discovering they were hardly breathing anymore, he had resumed checking the nets after dawn.
It was better to end the pathetic birds’ lives immediately if they were suffering too greatly. Even so, to this day, Yunho checked each bird carefully, going through their oily feathers with soft touches, pulling their tired eyes gently open to inspect them carefully for possible infections. Sometimes the birds were shivering violently, lazy to react to Yunho’s touches in any way, their breathing as slow as a human being’s. He knew immediately those were the ones he had to kill, the ones so oily Yunho could hardly hold them in his hands without his grip slipping. Their eyes would be yellowish and dull or alternatively red and running, legs limp and sluggish, sides thin. They never made a sound when Yunho wrung their necks, freeing them from their undeserved fate.
But if the bird resisted at all, made any tired attempt at pecking the hand helping to untangle it from the knots, Yunho would eagerly place it in the large white Styrofoam box he had set on the deck next to the cabin. It was equipped with an old, shabby yellow blanket he used to keep the algid birds warm.
Saving birds from oil and relieving the lost cases from their pain was an ample if a much detested part of Yunho’s day. Lately, he would find them even at his own home shore. Most of the birds caught in his nets where lesser ones, auks and shearwaters and seagulls-lots of seagulls-and the occasional gannet; but he had seen a few cormorants too, and once, he found a mute swan staggering on the shallow rock next to his humble pier. The swan had been a sickly grey in colour, black streaks running down its elegant wings that were dragging against the ground, saturated and heavy with the polluting substance.
Yunho had been extremely glad when he had had to chase the bird for a good quarter of an hour before he had managed to catch it. It had definitely been a positive sign; and true to Yunho’s hopeful estimate, the bird had been out of his small, self-built rehabilitation centre in less than two weeks.
The same could not have been said about the great frigatebird he had found lying on his front step a day later. Yunho had seen death in its eyes, but entranced by its warm, red chest-a patch of bright colour so rare at the high seas where days were grey and nights were greyer-he had tried his best.
The next day when the bird had died with a miserable gurgle out of its famished throat, Yunho had smashed the window on his hut’s northern wall in his helpless fury.
A day after, calmed down, while he had covered the pitiful window with a rickety piece of panel on both the inner and the outer side, he had held himself a short self-reflection session. No birds with dead eyes, he had reminded himself. Not even if the bird is red. You’ll only end up disappointed.
When Yunho noticed him for the first time, he thought it was another swan, tangled in the nets. From a distance, the curled up creature looked no bigger than a large adult bird. Worrying whether he’d be able to fit it in his Styrofoam box, Yunho nervously started hauling the net up. There was a small, plucked seagull trapped in the net first, scaled legs painfully intertwined in the knotted string. Yunho grabbed it firmly around its chest, hand secured on its beak so it wouldn’t be able to peck his hand. Uttering comforting words to it in a low voice, he untied the net effectively, the bird releasing pitiful, high-pitched warning cries. Yunho stroked its greasy feather coat, frowning at the saturating oil that was preventing the bird from flying. After fastening the net securely around a handle on the side of the rail of his boat, he hurried to deposit the bird into the makeshift nest he had prepared. He placed it down carefully, folding the worn-out blanket loosely on top of it.
He then quickly returned to the net, pulling the sea green puzzle of strings up carefully, wary and heedful of any other possible helpless animals, despite his hurry to get to the large white bird.
When he finally reached the white creature he had thought to be a swan, he was taken aback, almost dropping the net he was always holding in a seasoned fisherman’s vice-like grip. The creature was heaving thoroughly in rhythm to its slowed breathing, large wings covering its shivering body. Just from the position of its upright wings Yunho could already see it was no bird. Birds’ damaged wings were always awkwardly spread, drooping down like unnecessary additions to their thin bodies, flailing around flaccidly when they tried to fight against Yunho’s rescue attempts. This one was clearly hugging itself underneath them, trying to hide from Yunho’s sight. With occasional tired bursts of energy, it tried to free itself of the tangled strings cutting sharply into its delicate feathers.
Yunho pulled the net slightly upwards; a weight very light, but still greater than even the largest bird’s, was dragging down his efforts. The creature was slightly lifted, and under Yunho’s flustered stare it moved its other wing slightly, forming a narrow gap between the magnificent pinions. A large, reddened eye met his gaze, blinking rapidly, widened and unfocused pupil filled with great fear. Its lashes were burdened by yellowish mucus, runny liquid seeping down despite the constant blinking, forming a sad white streak on a cheek otherwise tainted by oil.
It took Yunho a few moments to snap out of it, but soon he was bending over the rail of his boat, reaching his hand out to touch the creature. It flinched at his outstretched hand, wings drawing back but still not covering the panicky eye darting about Yunho’s approaching form.
“There, there,” he hummed in an attempt to calm the fearful creature down, ”I am just helping you. I will help you free of this net, don’t worry, shhhh…”
His fingertips reached the creature’s wing, sliding against the filthy, soft feathers. Never pausing the constant flow of calming nonsense coming out of his mouth, Yunho caressed the appendage gently. The creature seemed to relax slightly, body still trembling underneath the protective cover of its wings but it didn’t make any further desperate escape attempts. Sliding his hand against the feather coat until it reached the strings of the net, Yunho hooked a few fingers between the knots and the creature’s skin. Its plumage was scattered with strips of blood, snapped feathers sticking out in odd directions. He could feel its chafed skin under his fingertips, emerging under the bent feathers, friable and exposed.
With a quick, firm movement of one hand, he unsheathed the short, sturdy knife he always carried on his waist, bringing it forth to shear the strings open. When the creature saw the weapon, it started struggling frantically, letting out small breathy cries.
Yunho tried to secure the wing under his hand, afraid of attempting to use the knife while the creature was resisting.
“Shhh, I’m not going to hurt you, I have to cut the net open if I want to free you,” he tried to coax the panicking being, holding the knife safely away from it. “You need to stop struggling, I cannot do this if you are moving. Shhh, shush now…”
When the creature showed no sign of ceasing its resistance, Yunho was forced to perform an action he had wanted to avoid if only possible, worried of the damage it might do to the creature’s wings. He extracted his hands and pulled at the net, dragging the creature up onto the deck alongside with it.
What he saw was even more wondrous than what he had expected. Tangled in his net, now even worse than before due to the on-going fight, was a scrawny boy, wings larger than himself projecting from his protruding shoulder blades. Feathers ran down his spine, whole body covered in thin down, currently black and greasy with oil, sticking against his skin like the fur of a drowned rat. The boy’s complexion, as much of it as was visible underneath the filth covering his whole body, was pale, tinting towards a mix of purple and sickly turquoise on his fingers and toes, thin blue veins running visible under the filmy cover of his skin.
The boy was staring at him, red eyes still running, too afraid to move in the slightest. Carefully, Yunho kneeled before him, a palm offered open as a sign of peace, other hand holding the knife behind his back so that the boy wouldn’t notice it. The boy’s face was gaunt, cheekbones sticking out so sharply Yunho was afraid to touch his face as it looked like it was made of rice paper. He kept murmuring in a low, comforting voice as he reached his arm out and softly gathered the boy across his lap, burying the other's face onto the surface of his coarse woollen jumper. He held the boy down firmly before easing the knife between the strings and the feathers of his wings, cutting the net with precise slashes of the blade. The boy didn’t move. Whether he was frozen with fear, slipping into unconsciousness, or just tired from all the struggling, Yunho didn’t know; but his skin was slippery and cold underneath his touch, as if Yunho had lifted a block of ice on his lap.
Just like the birds, the oil had soaked the boys’ feathers and the protective down, allowing the chilly seawater directly on his skin. Yunho didn’t know how long the boy had been floating in the water, but even if Yunho had only set his net the night before, the poor little creature could have been marred by the oil even days earlier.
In that case, his hypothermia would be at a severe stage. Judging from the boy’s slow breathing, his heart rate had already decreased gravely. After carefully detaching the cut down strings from the boy’s feathers, mindful of the deep, thin cuts on his skin, Yunho quickly placed two fingers on the boy’s neck and a hand on his own, comparing their pulse rate.
The boy’s pulse was less than half in speed compared to the rhythm of his own blood.
Yunho pushed the boy back slightly, hastily shucking his raincoat and pulling his thick, grey jumper over his head. Carefully hooking his hands underneath the boy’s arms, trying to avoid touching his injured wings, he pulled the boy tightly against his bare chest, knowing full well that body heat was the best way to warm up an algid body. Supporting the scrawny, naked kid against his body easily with one arm, he hooked the boy’s legs around his waist the best he could, the poor thing’s lethargic muscles unable to help Yunho in his task. He picked up the jumper and tried to arrange it over the boy’s narrow shoulders, but the drooping wings prevented him from really getting it around the boy’s body close enough to actually warm him up. Bunching the raincoat under the arm he was supporting the boy’s bottom with, Yunho slowly stood up before tucking the boy’s drenched head against his neck. He tried to place the boy’s frozen fingers under his own armpits, knowing them to be one of the warmest spots on his whole body, but the boy’s limp, feeble arms kept dropping down so he had to give up.
The boy’s lightness was highly disconcerting, especially considering the added weight of his wings saturated with oil and water. Yunho had seen his eyes and knew he was suffering from infections; but more than that, he was worried of the boy’s malnourished appearance. Living on a small, rocky island alone, Yunho hardly had any foodstuff suitable for nursing a starved being. The inspector usually only brought him canned food and sacks of rice, millet, and occasionally a few of beans.
Praying he still had some beef stock left in the freezer so that he could make the boy some savoury porridge, Yunho threw the end of the net over the rail, back into the sea. The net sank down in a straggly pile, the float popping up and down on the waves. Yunho would have to collect it another day.
Slowly walking over to the wheel with the boy attached to his front, legs dangling down on both sides of his thighs, wrapped inside the woollen jumper and the raincoat the best he could manage, Yunho peeked over the edge of the Styrofoam box to check on his other protégé. The seagull was lying down, eyes closed, but from the slight rise of its back Yunho could see it was still breathing.
There was a constant drizzle that occasionally escalated into a heavier shower, beating against Yunho's back. With the ice-cold creature fixed against his chest, he fought the goosebumps attempting to break out on his skin as he started steering the boat towards his home island.
When the trawler finally bumped against Yunho's small pier, the boy was starting to stir, rubbing his face slightly against Yunho’s bare skin. Yunho’s chest and thick trousers were soaked in oil by now, but the man hardly paid any attention to the filth spreading over his skin from the boy’s body. The boy’s feet that had been swinging around uselessly were sneaking around his legs slowly, until the boy finally managed to cross his ankles on the back of Yunho’s thighs. After shutting down the engine, Yunho placed both of his hands under the boy’s behind and hoisted him upwards, settling his legs around his waist. Yunho’s arms had started growing weary despite the boy’s rather non-existent weight, and he was thankful for the added support. For a second time, he tried tucking the boy’s still frigid fingers under his armpits, and this time his frail limbs had enough strength to remain resting upwards against Yunho’s sides.
Yunho had to get to the sauna fast. However, fastening the boat onto the bollards or even jumping down from the deck-small, ordinary everyday tasks he usually did without giving them one thought-suddenly seemed exceedingly difficult to execute. Yunho walked to the Styrofoam box and bent down awkwardly sideways, dragging it over to the rail while trying to keep the boy from sliding down. When he reached the rail, he paused his administrations, lost. He couldn’t leave the seagull in the boat either, since once he would get to the sauna he couldn’t possibly leave the boy there alone.
Glad that he had wrapped the seagull inside the blanket earlier, he sat down on the deck, legs dangling over the rail. Now that his arms were free as the boy was just sitting on his lap, he managed to lift up the tired bird and hug it next to his side with the arm he kept under the boy’s bottom.
It was quite an acrobatic performance, he but did manage to manoeuvre all three of them down to the pier, the boy releasing a pained whimper when Yunho accidentally bumped his feet against the boat’s side. The bird, however, remained quiet.
Finally on his two feet safely on shore, Yunho started jogging towards the small wooden shack he had built on the western side of the island. He had always been quite proud of the result, but never had he known it would actually prove so useful. He had already washed countless birds off the oil covering them, letting them rest in the small corral he had built behind the sauna, feeding them until they finally were strong enough to fly away.
The inspector had started questioning his need for absurd amounts of detergent soon, but when he’d shown his little bird hospital to the man, he had only laughed and squeezed Yunho’s shoulder. It’s good you have ways to keep yourself entertained out here, he had said. I get the shivers every time I come here and I only come here once every two months.
After that Yunho had always gotten any amount of detergent he had asked for.
Yunho heaved the front door open, hurrying through the entranceway and opening a second door leading to the sauna itself. Placing the quiet bird on a bench, he quickly walked over to the boiler with the boy still glued against his chest, silently thanking every god out there that he had boiled a full boiler of water the night before. When he lifted the lid, he could see the water was still steaming.
He retrieved a large washing basin, filling it with cold water from the faucet he had set up, extending the water pipe from his home to the sauna. Picking up a ladle, he shovelled some hot water into the basin, carefully testing it and mixing in more until he was content with the temperature. He knew too well pouring hot water on a hypothermic body would not end up well, and so he mixed the waters until it was around his own body temperature.
Quickly shucking off his boots and trousers, leaving only his boxers on, he also threw away his woollen jumper and raincoat that had been bundled around the boy’s narrow body before sitting down on the bench next to the seagull, the boy straddling his lap. The boy’s ankles fell down from where they had been crossed over Yunho’s back. However, when Yunho tried pull the boy back a little so that he could start with washing their chests, the boy’s arms suddenly fastened around his neck as he pressed himself even closer to Yunho. Helpless, the man ran his hands down the boy’s feathery spine, stroking his slick skin in a calming manner.
“I’m just going to wash this oil off you now. Hmm? I’m all dirty myself too… I need to get this off, I promise I’ll make you something to eat after we’re clean. Hmm?”
The boy’s only answer was a tightening grip. Yunho’s sighed, lifting his other hand to pet the boy’s greasy hair before sliding him slightly to the side, so that he was sitting only on Yunho’s other thigh.
“I’ll wash the bird first then, is that okay? You can watch.”
There was no answer, but without waiting for one Yunho reached under the bench where he stored the detergent. He poured some into the washing basin before wordlessly unwrapping the seagull from the yellow blanket and lifting it against his thigh. He picked up the ladle and started lathering the bird with the warm water, carefully working his hand through every feather. He stretched its white wings outwards, noting that some of its largest primary feathers were damaged or completely missing, making the bird’s wings look quite pathetic and naked. Yunho was quite worried of their state; even though the bird was sure to recover its energy, the severe condition of its feathers might endanger its ability to fly.
Sighing, Yunho folded the wings back up against the bird’s body after carefully washing underneath them. He paid extra close attention to the seagull’s head, carefully rubbing over its eyelids while holding its beak, forcing it to keep still.
When he finally got around to rinsing the detergent imbued water off the bird, Yunho noticed that the boy had lifted his head slightly, staring at the bird intently with one eye, half of his face still buried onto Yunho’s neck. His both arms were still tightly wound up around Yunho’s neck, but Yunho could feel his fingers weren’t as cold anymore as before. After wrapping the cleaned bird back inside the blanket where it seemed to start dozing off right away, Yunho pulled to boy back fully onto his lap, placing his hands on the boy’s cheeks to carefully pry him off his skin.
He knew hypothermic people hardly acted rationally, but the boy seemed to be regaining both his body warmth and his senses. Deeming it a good time for a second try, Yunho pushed the boy’s face backwards, and this time the boy’s arms gave in, slackening their grip around his neck.
His eyes were still running incessantly and his face was as dirty as before, and Yunho could feel the oil the other had rubbed against his skin trickling down his shoulder. But the look in the boy’s eyes was sharper than before, only slight hesitance marring the wide pools of black. The boy’s pupils were indeed black, nothing like any other pair of eyes Yunho had ever seen before; the colour was darker than the oil staining the skin around them. His hair was of a similar raven shade, sticking to the sides of his face, a few strands even entering his slightly ajar lips that were hardly distinguishable in colour from the rest of his face. Yunho shifted one of his hands to pry the sticky strands out of his mouth, smoothing his hair back, out of his face.
“Alright,” he murmured, still maintain the same reassuring tone he had been using on the boy all the while. He didn’t look scared anymore, but Yunho didn’t want to take any risks as he pried the boys other arm off him, picking up the ladle to start cleaning his skin. The oil stuck to his down and at points Yunho had to add more detergent directly on his skin, but slowly he managed to wash him, part by part. Eventually, he only had the injured wings left, having washed his back just by reaching over the boy’s shoulder and around his waist. Even his feet were clean now, even though in contrast to his otherwise snow-white body, they were still stiff and purple. Yunho had almost felt like crying when he scrubbed his chilly toes, massaging them in order to get the blood circulating properly in them again. The birds were so much easier, their bodies one tight ball so that when the warmth returned, it happened quite fast; but with the poor boy’s long, frail limbs, it took a long time until his newly regained body warmth reached the outermost parts.
The boy’s breathing was quicker than before, his protruding ribs heaving up and down in rhythm to it. There were some scratches and quite a lot of bruises on his body, but Yunho knew the deepest cuts the net had caused on his skin were on his wings. He had no desire to try washing the delicate appendages blindly from the position they were in now, so the only option was to somehow convince the boy to get off his lap.
It really seemed like easier said than done, considering his earlier behaviour. However, Yunho also needed to bring the bird to the corral and feed it before he took the boy to his hut, so he would have to go through with it in any case.
Yunho threw one more ladle of warm water on top of the boy’s head, rinsing his black hair. The boy lifted his hands to his face immediately, rubbing the water off his eyes, bubbles trailing down his collarbones.
“Would you…” Yunho started hesitantly, and the boy lowered his hands from his eyes, staring Yunho right in the eye. His gaze was piercing, and it threw Yunho slightly off, making him forget what he was aiming to do for a short moment. Then, he placed his palms on the boy’s waist, and to his great surprise, the boy made no effort to stop him when Yunho slid him off his lap, sitting him down on the bench next him. He brushed the boy’s shoulder length hair away and turned his body away from himself so that the boy's wings were in front of him.
The boy’s wings were magnificent even in their tainted state. They looked like they were animate even when they were still, slight tremors constantly running throughout them like pulses of energy. The feathers were long and elegant, neatly tucked against each other. Here and there, there were a few broken ones, breaking the fine, systematic order, sticking out in a conspicuous way. Especially the boy’s left wing had suffered greatly from the net, bloodied stumps jutting out depressingly around paper cut thin wounds.
Yunho reached his hand forward to touch the trembling appendix. The wing caved under his touch, pliantly bending closer to the boy’s body when Yunho stroked it with an open palm.
“This might sting,” Yunho whispered before holding up a ladle of water blended with detergent and pouring it over the wing. He rubbed the foam on gently, flinching every time the wing jerked under his touch. Washing the oil off was easy enough for him, but the blood made him cringe. The cuts were quite deep and Yunho was sure he’d have to disinfect and bandage them properly. The only problem was, he had never treated any wings like that. The bird’s wounds he mostly left to themselves; if the birds were well enough they cured quite fast as long as they got fed properly. He was worried he would further damage the feathers if he tied them in an inappropriate manner.
Feather by feather, Yunho cleaned the shuddering wings. Their almost blinding whiteness uncovered gradually, making Yunho feel as if he was looking at something he shouldn’t be, something not meant for his eyes. Pushing such useless thoughts out of his head, he stood up to retrieve one last basin of water so that he could efficiently rinse off all the remaining detergent on both of them. His own legs were still greyish, but he thought he could just scrub himself more thoroughly the next day; the boy was the priority after all.
Before he could take one step away, slender arms snuck around his thigh. He looked down to see the boy sluggishly hugging his leg, looking up at him with alarmed eyes. He tousled his hair, trying to detach his hands from his leg.
“I’m only mixing you more water,” Yunho said, and the boy stared at him for a moment longer before pulling his arms back reluctantly. Yunho walked over to the faucet, but while he waited for the basin to fill with cold water, he couldn’t resist glancing back at the boy. He was sitting on the edge of the bench, keeping watch over Yunho, like a hawk ready to dive down from a treetop as soon as a hare appeared.
Yunho stretched his lips into what he hoped to be a friendly smile and waved at the boy even though there were only two metres between them. He reckoned doing all he could to affirm the boy he wasn’t leaving could do no harm. The boy didn’t reciprocate his actions in any way, his eyes barely skimming over Yunho’s moving hand, instead fixed on his face.
After pouring in a few ladles of hot water from the boiler, he walked back to the boy who seemed to relax when Yunho was back within his reach. After rinsing the boy’s wings carefully, he dumped the rest over the boy’s head, turning the whole basin over. The boy spluttered, surprised, and glared at Yunho after he got his eyes open again. His eyes were still swollen and red, but they were running considerably less now that his skin was clean, small trails of transparent liquid dripping down his cheeks. Yunho bent down to thumb the secretion away.
“Sit here. I will be back in a second, I’m taking the bird to its home now. Okay?” he asked, stroking the boy’s sharp cheekbones, feeling the thinness of his face under his palms. The boy’s penetrating gaze was on him for a moment before he turned his eyes to look at the slumbering seagull and nodded slowly.
It was the first time he showed any sign of actually understanding what Yunho had said.
Yunho took one last, concerned look at him before picking the bird up and stepping outside of the sauna. The morning air was chilly on his wet, naked skin, but he if anyone was used to extreme weather conditions and such, living all year around on the small island in the middle of the sea.
Yunho jogged over to the corral, opening the small door to the chain-link cage. There were several small boxes on the ground, filled with hay and a small blanket. None of them were occupied at the moment, only one other bird in the corral. It was eating, head half buried in the fish parings Yunho mostly fed them. It looked up warily when Yunho entered, but when the man didn’t walk any closer, it just continued gobbling down the smelly scraps.
Yunho spared the bird a glance, walking promptly to a box to put the seagull into. He arranged the yellow blanket around it and grabbed the closest water bowl, pulling it next to the box and lowering the bird near to it. He made sure it drank some before arranging it into the box comfortably, with the blanket around it but not too tight so that it could get out whenever it wanted.
Yunho had been feeling anxious from the moment he had left the boy alone in the sauna, something inside his mind telling him it was really not a good choice to make. As soon as the bird was safe and sound, he stood up, racing out of the cage, barely slowing down to close the door after himself. He hurried up the front stairs of the small building and wrenched both doors open as fast as he could.
It made him stop dead in his tracks, the empty bench in front of him. Only the half empty detergent bottle and the washing basin greeted him back, looking lonely the way they were laying on the wooden surface.
Then he heard a quiet whimper, so quiet he could’ve missed it under the sound of running water.
Running water. Yunho turned his head and there the boy was, sitting under the faucet that had been turned on full force, ice-cold water beating down on his skin. He looked extremely miserable and wet with his hair glued to his scalp, legs bent in awkward angles. Even with the shock, it took Yunho less than a second to fly forwards, wrench the kid out of the water and pull him against his chest. The boy let out a startled cry, wriggling inside his embrace.
“What are you doing, you crazy kid,” he started scolding the other, out of breath, “you have hypothermia! I need to have you warm, not under an icy shower, god, what are you doing…”
The boy jerked when Yunho rubbed his arms in order to get them warm again and let out another wail. Yunho pulled back slightly, just enough to notice there was a new wound on the boy’s body-a burn on his right shoulder. It wasn’t too wide, but from the redness of the skin Yunho could already see it would blister. The boy raised his arm, and when Yunho followed it to the direction of his outstretched finger, he saw the boiler. Even though he had boiled water in it the night before, the large amount of hot water kept the metal barrel searing for long hours.
“Oh god,” Yunho sighed, adjusting the faucet so that the water fell down slightly more gently. He tried to arrange them under it so that the boy didn’t have to shower his whole body with the cold water. It was awkward as the faucet was quite low and the boy’s large wings restricted their movement a lot.
“Didn’t I tell you to sit there on the bench until I came back? What were you trying to do… I bet your legs don’t even work yet, an hour ago you couldn’t even force your muscles to keep you legs crossed around my waist… That’s it right? You fell down right? Ah, what should I do with you… Tie you onto the bench or what…”
Yunho kept babbling to the boy, rubbing his palms continuously over the boy’s arms, trying his best to keep him warm despite the chilly water pouring down on them. A burn on hypothermic skin was not a thing to be taken lightly, but the boy really needed to be completely warmed up, finally.
They sat there for around ten minutes, but when the boy’s head started nodding and his limbs turning sluggish again, Yunho turned the faucet off, heedless of the burning red skin on the boy shoulder. He would just have to put some salve on it, the boy couldn’t afford any more time under cold water. Gathering the boy’s legs around his waist again, he pulled himself up and picked up the largest towel he could find before sitting down on the bench. He dried them carefully, the boy’s forehead resting against his shoulder the whole time, breath coming out in puffs against Yunho’s collarbone, slower once again but this time because of sleep.
Not knowing what to do with his wings, Yunho just dabbed them lightly, cautious of the broken feathers. The boy seemed to be steadily slumbering, hardly reacting to his actions in any way. When his cool skin had been ridded of all moistness, Yunho stood up and quickly slid down his oil-dirtied boxers, kicking the pile of dirty clothes away from the centre of the floor, closer to the wall. He slipped his feet into his boots before wrapping the towel tightly around them both and taking a deep breath. He stood in front of the door for a second before bolting out.
One arm under the boy’s behind, the other around the boy’s back, he tried to shield him from the drizzle the best he could. Fortunately the island he lived on was really quite small-the first time in his life he thought it to be fortunate-and it took him only a few dozen steps to reach the front door of his hut. He never bothered to lock it, as there were no other people around, so he just wrenched the door open and ran inside, slamming it close right after him.
Standing on the doorstep with the boy wrapped in a thick towel perched on his hip, Yunho let his heart calm down after the sprint and the warmth inside the room linger around his naked body. First of all, he needed to have the boy drink something, as he had been floating around in salty seawater for an indefinite time; he was sure to be dehydrated.
Kicking his boots off, Yunho stepped further into the room, walking over to his small chest of drawers and pulling one open. He rummaged through the pile of singular socks and crumbled t-shirts before he found a pair of clean underwear. With much difficulty, he managed to wiggle his other foot in, the other following. Squirming his body in what would have surely been a comical sight had the situation not been so serious, changing the hand he utilised every few seconds, he managed to shimmy the piece of clothing up his body.
Still reluctant to put the boy down as the poor thing’s whole body had broken out in goosebumps again, Yunho went to his gas stove and turned it on, thanking his luck when he managed to lit the fire with just one match. Scratching it against the box and trying to keep the boy from sliding down while peeking over his shoulder was quite a complicated task, and Yunho had to also be careful with the slightly drooping wings, keeping them as far away from the fire as possible. He walked over to his fridge-freezer, opening the bottom part. If he remembered right, he still had some of the beef stock the inspector had brought him the last time he had visited. He had presented the broth his wife had made as if it was some rare exotic delicacy.
Despite everything, Yunho had to admit the inspector had at least one virtue; he truly loved his wife. To Yunho’s great fortune, the said wife happened to be a rather decent cook.
Finding the grey-lidded box, Yunho shoved the freezer door shut and dumped the icy contents of the box to the closest kettle he could find, lifting it to sit over the blue fire. He was getting rather tired from carrying the boy around, so he went to sit on his bed, uncurling the boy’s legs from around his waist, re-arranging him sideways on his lap so that he could continue his sleep in a more comfortable position. The boy’s arms were still around his neck, but rather slackly, threatening to fall off at any moment. Yunho yanked the blanket out from underneath himself and pulled it over the boy’s legs, gathering the towel more tightly against him as well. Resting his back against the wall, he watched the kettle, waiting for the melting substance inside it to start steaming.
Yunho wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep himself, despite the hour being well before midday, but when he opened his eyes the next time, the kettle was boiling, sounds of popping bubbles reverberating inside the silent hut. He stood up quickly, almost forgetting that the boy was wholly on his lap now, but managed to weasel the boy’s legs in a different position before he fell down. Yunho hurried to the stove, turning the gas off before he lifted the kettle and placed it under the faucet, pouring some cold water in to make the stock into a pleasant, warm soup. He then poured the broth into a large mug, and sitting on one of the two chairs he owned, he placed the mug on the table.
Prying the boy’s hands off his neck, Yunho rubbed his forearm to wake him up.
“Hey, kid. You have to drink now before going to sleep,” he murmured. The boy’s head barely moved from his shoulder, tilting sideways when Yunho continued to try to get him sit upright. Yunho shook his shoulder slightly and the boy stirred, red eyes opening but hardly seeing anything. An alarming amount of liquid streamed down his cheek the moment his eyelids opened. He blinked, unable to focus his eyes, but Yunho just picked the mug from the table and nudged it against his lips. As long as the boy could swallow, he was awake enough.
The boy turned his head away from the mug, his brow furrowing, but Yunho kept placing it on his lips again and again, trying to coax him with gentle words at the same time.
“I promise you you can sleep however long you want after you just finish this,” he murmured.
When they boy finally noticed the annoying item in front of his face wasn’t going anywhere, he tried widening his eyes in order to make sense of everything, but Yunho could see he was still barely conscious. Yunho shoved the mug against his mouth a little more firmly this time, and when the boy cracked his lips open, Yunho elevated the mug, forcing the boy to tip his head slightly backwards. In the safe position, he let the warm broth flow down in small ratios, giving the boy ample time to finish swallowing during every pause. It took them quite long, but in the end he did manage to feed the whole mug to the boy, even refilling it with plain water and cajoling it down the boy’s throat as well.
Even such slight effort seemed to exhaust the boy totally, especially after all the stress he had had to endure in the sauna, and when he finally finished drinking, he buried his face firmly onto Yunho’s shoulder, a clear sign that he wasn’t going to have any more. Yunho sighed, placed the mug in the sink and walked back to the bed, caressing the boy’s raven hair and whispering encouraging words to him, feeling as if he was praising a child on a job well done.
He knew he couldn’t really let the boy lie down before he had treated his burn and the wounds on his wings, but the boy certainly didn't have to be awake for that. Collecting his small first aid kit, Yunho rubbed some soothing balm on the burn before covering it with a few dressings and wrapping a bandage over his arm and even around his chest, just to keep it firmly in place. With the thin cuts on he boy’s wings, he settled with just disinfecting them. He was quite sure he would only further bother the delicate feathers, many already broken or stubbed, if he tried bandaging them.
Lying himself down on the bed, still clad only in his boxers in order to warm up the other’s small body as much as be could, he pulled the boy to lie halfway on top of his chest before carefully folding up his wings and pulling the blanket over both of them. He tried to warm the other’s cold toes between his own legs, and tucked his fingers under his own body too, pulling the boy as close as possible.
The small creature curled into himself, soft puffs of breath hitting Yunho’s neck. The man was not tired at all as he had barely just woken up for the day; but as he was used to silent, uneventful days, lying there under the boy, lending him his body warmth was not a hard task for Yunho. He lay awake for hours, adjusting the boy every time he seemed uncomfortable, careful of his wings and his wounded shoulder, until he finally fell asleep himself when the room started to dim with falling darkness.
→