Angelfish (Part Three)
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After the dead birds, days went by quickly; but what was different compared to Yunho’s previous life, was that they weren’t all alike anymore.
Every morning, he left the island before Jaejoong woke up, working hard on his trawler to make up for the week of work he had missed after he had found Jaejoong. He took the habit of going through all the trash he collected, and if he found something especially nice or interesting, he would set it aside for later. He checked his gillnets next to the island devotedly, and carefully took home every bird he found injured and oily. There were only a few, plus the occasional ones that they found on the shores of the small island; there was always at least one bird in the small corral behind Yunho’s sauna. As for Jyuni, Jaejoong had brought its box inside the hut as planned, and the small seagull now slept under its yellow blanket in the corner next to the bed.
Every evening, when he came home, Jaejoong was waiting for him, standing barefoot on the pier, Jyuni on his shoulder. Everyday, he helped Yunho bring all the new trash to the warehouse, with a help of an old, wobbly wheelbarrow.
One day, he brought Jaejoong a marble. They boy had studied at the colourful glass ball intensely, and at night, he had placed it carefully in Jyuni’s box. In case she was missing having her own children, he had said. Another day, Yunho came back with a huge chest freezer. Jaejoong was adamant on bringing it to the corral and making it the new bed for the birds; in the end, they dragged it behind the sauna before realising they could never fit it in through the corral door.
Eventually, they ended up sleeping one night outside, lying in the chest freezer together, just there right behind the sauna. The freezer was barely large enough for one person, and it started drizzling in the middle of the night, but Yunho had never had such sweet dreams before. The next day, after Yunho came back from his day’s work, they finally dragged the chest freezer to the warehouse alongside the trash of the day.
The rest of the day they spent sitting side by side at the waterfront, mending Yunho’s gillnets that were full of holes created by hysterical birds. It was mechanic but concentration-demanding work, and they spent the evening in comfortable silence.
Jaejoong fell asleep on the rock, fingers twisted in the cords of the net, and it took Yunho five minutes to free his hands before he could carry the drowsy angel back inside the hut.
~0~0~0~
A few weeks later, Yunho came home with a true treasure. It was a snow-globe, old and dirty, and Yunho couldn’t really even see inside; but he recognised the shape immediately. His mother had had one, sitting on the windowsill of their second room. That one had had a miniature garden inside, finished with a Western style mansion. The snow had been golden and glittery; Yunho would shake the snow-globe when his mother wasn’t looking and watch the shimmering snow envelope the small landscape. He had never seen a house like that for real, but he would always imagine what it would be like inside, if there were beds and chandeliers and other things he had vaguely heard about but didn’t really know what they were.
The first time ever Yunho slept in a bed was quite different from what he had imagined as a child. A small bunk, situated in a hut on a little island in the middle of the sea.
Even with the filthy layer of silt and oil, Jaejoong took immediate interest in his new find.
“What is it?” he asked eagerly as soon as Yunho dropped the item in his hand. He peered at the object, turning it around and around.
“There’s a world inside,” Yunho answered him. “Only we can’t see it, now that it’s dirty.”
“The sauna!” Jaejoong exclaimed, grabbing Yunho’s shirt to pull him along.
In a minute, they were sitting on the front steps of the sauna, the now cleaned snow-globe cradled in Jaejoong hands.
“You have to shake it,” Yunho prompted, watching as the angel carefully did as he’s instructed. A puff of white and silver glimmered through the globe, revealing a mountain scenery underneath before covering everything in artificial snow once again.
“Wow,” was all Jaejoong whispered. His eyes were wide, and with the added endless, black depth, they seemed larger than the sea itself.
Yunho watched him shake the snow-globe repeatedly for a while before he opened his mouth.
“It’s a mountain,” he said.
“A mountain,” Jaejoong mused. “You were born on a mountain.”
“Yep,” Yunho agreed.
“On this mountain?”
“No,” he said, “that’s an artificial mountain. I was born on a real one, a big one. Southeastern sector zone 4, on the highest mountain around.”
Jaejoong’s eyes snapped to him.
“Huh?” he said, completely lost.
Yunho averted his eyes.
“Nothing, don’t mind me,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on palm. Suddenly a hand snuck in underneath his arm and fingers curled around his bicep. Jaejoong shifted closer, until his head bumped to Yunho’s shoulder.
“Tell me about your mountain,” he suggested quietly.
“Is this a game again?” Yunho asked him, sighing heavily.
“No,” Jaejoong answered, “it’s you telling me about yourself.”
Yunho hesitated for a moment, but the familiar warmth of Jaejoong against his side seemed to make the decision that much easier to make.
“I was… My family was designated as trash pickers,” he started slowly. “Living up on the mountain. Not much food up there, all the little rice they grow is on the lowlands.”
Jaejoong hummed, tightening his fingers around Yunho’s arm in an encouraging gesture.
“Well, my father wasn’t a trash picker,” Yunho corrected himself. “He only came home every two months. They had picked my mother for him, at random I guess… And every two months he had the right to come visit her. I don’t know if he really wanted to come. I know my mother did not care.”
Once he had opened his mouth, it all started pouring out with a force he could have never predicted. It was as if his body was in an intense hurry to release all the things he had carried inside for the better part of a decade.
“I don’t even know what it was that he did. I just know he didn’t pick trash with us, and that he was much fatter than any of us… Not that you’d have to be very fat to have been fatter than us. I think I once survived the whole year on chestnuts and tree bark.”
“I had an older brother too, he was much older than me, by ten years or so… I don’t know his name. I ever only called him older brother… My mother just called him son.”
“When I was still small, my mom would just cook me a bowl of porridge in the morning before she left for work… She told me to eat it right away or wait until I was starving, that it was my own choice. And sometimes when I was really hungry I’d just eat the porridge right away, but after a few hours I would be starving again… And then I would eat the portion my mom had prepared for herself for the evening when she came back from work.”
“When she came home and found her bowl empty, she just looked at me. She didn’t say a word, and I wished so badly she would hit me just once-but she never did. She just looked at me, and didn’t say a word for the rest of the evening.”
“And usually after I had to sleep, my brother would come home, and they would stay in the other room talking, and I knew my mother had made him an extra bowl of porridge and I would sit in behind the door, peering from the crack, watch him eat and listen to the conversations they had… I did it for years. They never caught me.”
Yunho hung his head, rubbing his palm over his eyes tiredly.
“Not even once did it occur to them to check on the sleeping little brother.”
“And one night, I heard them talk about it… How it would be, living in the lowlands, even as just a scrounger. How even the beggars there had rice. And from that very instance I knew they were a bit too eager. I knew they were going to do it…they were going to flee.”
“Night after night I sat there behind the door, watching my brother eat and listening to my brother and mother talk about it, and observing how their plans slowly formed… My brother started staying away longer and longer, and I knew he was exploring the downhill, checking out the electric fence. He was determining where would be the best spot to execute their plans.”
“And day after day I listened to their discussion, but not once did they mention their plans to me… Not once did they ask me to come with them. And I was terrified; I thought they were going to be caught, and they would be killed, and I would be killed, and my father would be killed. I didn’t know what to do…”
Yunho stopped there, leaning forwards to rest his upper body completely against his legs. For a moment it had been like whitewater flowing past his lips, but now the knot was coming back, and it was forming in his throat bigger than ever. He could feel his stomach tensing up; there would be only a moment before it would force him to curl into a full foetal position.
And when Jaejoong’s hand left his arm, Yunho thought he would choke, his chest refusing to expand to allow in any air, his throat refusing to dilate.
But Jaejoong’s hand was soon back, pressing down in between his shoulder blades, soothing his back that was quivering from the tension. Jaejoong had leant forwards as well, nosing his shoulder, trying to find his way to the junction between Yunho’s stiff shoulder and tensed neck. He was making a sound, not necessarily saying anything or even humming; it was something made just for the sake of making a sound.
Jaejoong’s hand resting on his back, Yunho slowly gained control over his juddering body.
“It was-,” it took him a lot of effort to get the rest of the words out. “I felt so helpless and so-so confused, everything was so jumbled up-”
His shoulders loosened up slightly, and Jaejoong finally managed to get his mouth against the jumping pulse on his neck.
“And my father came home-he came, and I told him about my mother and my brother, I wanted him to talk them out of that ridiculous, doomed plan-and he just petted my hair, he had never petted my hair before, I don’t know if he had ever even really looked at me-”
Jaejoong’s hand was so intense on his back that Yunho felt like it would push in right through his spine if Jaejoong pressed it down any more forcefully, but the mouth on his neck was warm and moist and calm.
“And then-a few days later-he had ratted them out-I don’t know, they took them both, I don’t know why, they killed him too…They killed them all.”
“They didn’t kill me, I think they didn’t think I knew anything about it… So they settled for a lighter punishment. Despite the fact that what my family had done was definitely and without exception punishable by death.”
There was a moment of silence as Yunho calmed his agitated breathing, but it didn’t last long.
“And it was all my fault!” he then cried out suddenly. “There I was, thinking that they were betraying me… But it was me who betrayed them all! Me!”
“Shh,” Jaejoong interrupted him for the first time since he had started telling his story, whispering the words into the skin underneath his jaw. “Yunho-yah, listen to me. It was not your fault. You were just a boy.”
“Yes it was, if I had just kept my mouth shut my father would have never-maybe my mother and brother could have actually managed to-”
“No!” Jaejoong exclaimed a bit louder. “No! Listen to me! It was not your fault! Look at me!”
With a strange kind of strength he wrenched Yunho’s head away from his hands and cradled it it between his own palms. Only then did Yunho notice that all he could see was the powerful ripple of Jaejoong’s white wings all around him. He was sheltered inside, hidden away from everything around them, in a space so small it could only accommodate him, and Jaejoong.
Jaejoong’s eyes were as wide as when he had been looking at the snow-globe, but the depth had just increased, and his eyes were so black, in great contrast to the whiteness surrounding them on all sides. But the blackness was not cold and dark like a black hole; it was warm, and understanding, and determined.
“Yunho-yah,” the angel said, eyes fixed on Yunho’s. “It was not your fault, and your family feels no bitterness towards you. It is only you who can forgive yourself, and only you who can forgive your family. They are not here anymore, Yunho, nor can they come back.”
And inside himself Yunho knew that it was him who was bitter. The reason why he had to live alone at the high seas with no chance of better life for the rest of his days was the crime his family had committed. He had just never known where to begin; whether he should have forgiven himself first, or his family. It was all one muddle of fading memories and feelings, all so mixed up together he could hardly differentiate between any of them anymore.
But what he was sure of was the warmth of Jaejoong’s palms against his cheeks and the whiteness of his wings around him. And when Jaejoong closed the distance between their mouths, breathing new air into his collapsed lungs, he let him.
~0~0~0~
The day came as a total surprise to Yunho. He guessed he should have known to expect it, taking into account how fast Jaejoong’s legs had cured weeks earlier. Even so, despite the permanent presence of the wings, Yunho had never actually imagined Jaejoong using them.
It was a Sunday, and ever since Jaejoong had come along Yunho had taken on the habit of not working on Sundays. Previously, he had used to work weeks through, paying little attention to even holidays even though he had a calendar on the wall of the hut, which he used to strictly keep track of time.
That Sunday they had planned to go visit another little rock that lied a few kilometres away from them, the one Yunho usually set his nets next to. It was even smaller and barer than the island they lived on. It would be the first time Jaejoong had ever ventured outside Yunho’s island ever since he had first come.
Jaejoong was already standing on the pier, at the very end of it, Jyuni at his feet. He was facing the sea when Yunho strolled down the little path from the hut. His wings were folded only halfway, and as Yunho neared the pier, they were already lifting and widening, opening up to their full width. The sight blew Yunho away every time; the way his wings pulsed, surges of energy wrecking through them until the very tips of his primary feathers.
Then, just as Yunho’s foot met the concrete surface of the pier, Jaejoong looked over his shoulder, his face lightened up by a delighted smile.
Yunho instantly knew what was going to happen. He let everything he had been carrying drop on the ground as he charged forward. Jaejoong’s wings were now spread open to their maximum wingspan, and Yunho had barely enough time to take two running steps before they were beating up and down. Then, defying all laws of gravity, Jaejoong’s svelte body ascended, his speed gradually increasing.
“No no no no no Jaejoong, no!” Yunho shouted, running towards the end of the pier where the angel had taken wing, already out of his reach. “No no no no don’t go! Don’t go! No no don’t leave me! Please! Jaejoong please!”
Desperation seeping into his voice, he was barely able to stop his momentum before he sprinted right off the pier into the sea. Jyuni was standing right there, strutting around in a fidgety, unsettled way as it cried after its companion. It stepped back and forth on the edge of the pier, trying to spread its wings as well, upset by having been left behind in such a manner.
Yunho hardly paid attention to the distressed seagull as he slumped on the edge of the pier, staring after the angel who was still soaring, his speed so great he was barely a small, white bird on the sky.
“Jaejoong, please…! Jaejoong…!” he shouted for the last time before letting his head hang down. “No no no…” he spoke to himself, staring at the restless waves underneath himself. “This is not happening…”
Jyuni cried out one more time before suddenly surging forward, wings spread as it tried to take flight as well. The first wingstrokes were a bit flabby, but it soon gained stability, crying out as it rose up with the wind, flying for the first time in five weeks.
Yunho didn’t even look after the bird that was never supposed to fly again, now leaving him as well. His brain was not digesting what was happening, he felt like everything was happening in slow motion, as if someone had suddenly transferred his world into a small snow-globe and then filled it with jelly.
He felt tears spring into his eyes, bursting over onto his cheeks in an instant. Cradling his head between his hands, he shook it from side to side, trying to force the horrible truth out of his mind.
“No no no I can’t do this I can’t…” he kept saying, shaking himself.
Until someone wrenched his hands off his face, forcing him to bend his neck back and face up.
“Yunho! Are you crying?!” a familiar voice exclaimed, horrified. Slight fingers were soon wiping his cheeks, but now that the dam had broken, there was no stopping the tears.
“Don’t leave me Jaejoong, don’t leave me,” he cried out, instantly latching onto the boy who had quickly dropped himself on his knees next to him on the pier. “I can’t live here alone anymore, I can’t, please I beg of you, don’t go… Don’t leave me…”
“Shh, it’s okay Yunho, who said I was going anywhere,” the angel whispered into his ear, his body pulled so close that it looked as if Yunho was trying to melt the angel right into his own body. “I’m right here.”
“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” Yunho continued crying regardless of the other’s reassurances.
“You won’t have to, I am here now, aren’t I?” Jaejoong swallowed. “Please stop crying, otherwise I am going to cry too,” he begged the man who was hugging him impossibly close.
“Please don’t ever leave me, I cannot live alone anymore, I can’t stand it,” he wept, burying his face onto Jaejoong’s neck.
There were tears in the angel’s voice when he answered.
“Why do you think I came here, Yunho? You were not created to live your life alone. I’m here now, here for you.”
The words finally let Yunho halt his begging, but he remained clinging onto the boy, tears seeping onto Jaejoong’s coarse woollen jumper. The other just continued shushing him, petting his back carefully until he finally calmed down a bit.
When Yunho was finally calm enough for them to rearrange themselves more comfortably, they sat on the edge of pier, legs dangling down, still halfway in each other embrace. Jaejoong let Yunho lean into him and stroked his hair as the other took a few, deep breaths to stabilise his breathing once and for all.
“Wow…” Jaejoong said, wiping the man’s face with his other hand again. “Wow, Yunho. Wow.”
His words made Yunho chuckle slightly, and he brought his own hand up to wipe his face as well.
“I know,” he said. “I don’t think I have ever cried, not after the day I turned five.”
Jaejoong hugged his head close to himself, burying his nose into Yunho’s hair.
“I’m so sorry,” he exhaled, “I just… I suddenly noticed my wings were… the injuries had… they were perfect again… And I couldn’t, I can’t withstand that feeling. I had to fly.”
Yunho sniffled, sitting up straight as he ruffled his hair and smoothened out his jumper. Jaejoong let him fix his appearance and collect himself, politely putting a few centimetres between them. Following Yunho’s example, he curled his wings in front of him, starting to go through the feathers he had just used for the first time in long weeks. His fingers slid through the feather coat like a knife through butter; it was almost magical how they settled down in correct order so quickly, after just having been ruffled by the wind.
Yunho soon found himself staring again, just like that one time when Jaejoong had groomed his plumage inside the hut. There was something terribly intimate about the act.
The boy soon noticed him staring, and he flashed Yunho an affectionate smile.
“Do you want to try?” he asked the man. Yunho’s mouth fell open.
“I w-wouldn’t… I don’t know what to…” he stuttered, taken aback by the sudden suggestion.
“You are an expert of cleaning birds, Yunho,” the angel reminded him amusedly. “It’s just the same; my wings are just a bit larger.”
Not listening to any refusals Yunho might have whipped out, Jaejoong swiftly turned around so that his wide, quivering wings were spread out right in front of Yunho.
Glancing around as if there was someone who could catch him in the act, Yunho hesitantly reached his hand towards Jaejoong’s back. Through the hole in his jumper, Yunho could see the angel’s shoulder blades where his wing bones extended outwards, and the small feathers in between his wings that continued downwards alongside his spine.
Imitating Jaejoong’s usual calming gesture, he pressed his full palm onto the down between the boy’s shoulder blades. The boy gasped, his back arching as he shied away from the touch. Insistently, Yunho pressed in more, feeling the boy’s back tremble underneath his touch.
“I have never… never seen anything so beautiful,” he whispered in a trance, bringing up his other hand to slide his fingers gently over the junction where Jaejoong’s wings attached to his body. He continued gliding them along the edge of the wing, feeling each small bump of the wing bones underneath his fingertips. The wings pulsed; it seemed like Jaejoong had to use some willpower to keep them from folding up.
As gently as he ever could, Yunho began to go through each line of feathers, starting from the very tips. Everything felt so soft, but there was also a certain kind of firmness to the long primary feathers. Soon enough, Jaejoong was openly purring, a larger wave of shivers racking his body every now and then as he moaned aloud.
When Yunho had made his way all the way through the wing as well as the other one, the boy’s body had curled up, knees pulled against his chest. Carefully, Yunho grabbed Jaejoong’s shoulder to turn him around so that he could see his face again.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised embarrassedly as soon as he could see the strange, barely contained expression on Jaejoong’s face. “I said I wouldn’t know what to do… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
The boy shivered again, slowly setting his legs down to dangle over the edge of the pier again.
“No, no… I liked it,” he answered the man quickly. “It’s just… I am not used to anyone else but myself touching them like that.”
He looked forward, and Yunho followed his gaze out to the sea opening in front of them; a normal, windy day, grey sea and grey skies.
It was depressing at first glance, but it was what he was used to.
“You know… Maybe…just maybe it’s not so bad out here,” he huffed suddenly.
“Huh.”
“I mean… Maybe it wasn’t so bad to end up out here,” Yunho tried to reformulate his thought, but it still didn’t sound right. “If you’re with me.”
“Yunho…” Jaejoong sighed from his side. “Are you trying to tell me you have forgiven your family?”
Yunho mused the boy’s words over, tasting them in his mouth, letting them run through his swelled up throat.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”
Jaejoong smiled at him before letting his head rest on Yunho’s shoulder, wings curling around them both.
“Good.”
~0~0~0~
He really hated those days. He had never liked his job too much, but the days when he had to travel to that godforsaken rock in the middle of the sea were the ones that made him really consider quitting his job in the southeastern sector and moving back up north.
He would never visit a single day earlier than the required 56 days after his previous visit. The boat trip took him roughly six hours, but not once had he spent the night on the island. He would wake up as early as needed if it meant he would never have to sleep overnight in the pathetic, tiny hut that had been built on the island for the inmate.
He had to admit that the man had done his very best with what little the rock had to offer. He had built other buildings on the tiny island, having earned the chance to apply for auxiliary supplies by his exemplary hard labour. The man was one of the most obedient and diligent inmates in his surveillance.
He was also the one he hated the most.
He hated nothing more than that carefully blank, serious face that greeted him from the pier every time he arrived for the bimonthly inspection. The man would secure the boat firmly, hardly uttering a word as he led the inspector to the warehouse. They would go through the amount of waste he had collected, and not once had he failed to meet his quota. Then they would move it all to the inspection boat. It usually took the whole day, and the inspector had to travel back home during night; but no matter what, he wasn’t going to spend the night on the island.
To be honest, the young inmate gave him the shivers. He could never spot a single sign of defiance or contempt on the other’s expressionless face, and the man was never nothing short of distantly polite. He was so unlike any other inmates under his surveillance; they all were either openly or covertly reluctant, unless they were on an obvious mission to kiss his arse as much as they could manage in the short time he spent with them.
But this one was quiet and so stiff the inspector just wanted to scream at his face, if only to get a reaction-any reaction, really-out of him.
And still, despite the inmate’s resignation to his fate and excellent conduct, he was the one that made the inspector hate his job. He had hated it ever since the day he had had to deliver the solemn youth to this very island. He knew the man’s background and the crime he had been accused of, he knew it all; but none of it was under his power. It wasn’t his decision to make; he had had no option but to bring the man where they had ordered him to.
Nevertheless, it didn’t make him feel any better about it. He would never admit it to even himself, but there was a reason behind the fact that every time he came he brought something with him; be it a little something his wife had cooked up, or something else he guessed a lonely man living on a barren island might appreciate.
He would arrive, give the inmate his gift and other supplies, tour the island and check everything, transfer the trash over to the inspection boat-and get the fuck out.
He was just bracing himself for the moment that guarded face would appear before him when he spotted the most curious thing on the pier.
Instead of the familiar shape of the inmate, there were two figures standing there, ready to receive him.
The moment lasted almost absurdly long; for a while he wondered if he should fear for his life. Maybe they were going to kill him and take over his boat; throw his corpse overboard into the oily sea.
Then his boat got closer, and he could see the other person more clearly. It was a boy, someone slighter and younger than the inmate; there was no way he could be dangerous. He was standing next to the inmate, bare feet drowning in his too long trouser legs.
When the boat clanked against the pier, the boy helped the inmate to tie the ropes wordlessly. The inspector remained on the deck, observing the pair incredulously. It was quite the sight too; the boy looked more like someone he might see in the capital city, in one of the rich neighbourhoods. The last place anyone would expect to see someone like him was a miserable rock at the high seas.
When he stepped down on the pier, it was obvious to all three of them what his first words would be. It was no use trying to pretend nothing was wrong.
“Who’s that,” he asked bluntly, letting his eyes rake over the boy before focusing them on the inmate’s face. To his absolute surprise, the man looked slightly uneasy, scratching his ankle with his foot. He glanced at the boy who stayed silent, staring back at him looking every bit as solemn as the inmate usually did.
What a pair, the inspector thought. Suit each other just fine.
“Jaejoong,” the inmate answered him, and to the inspector’s great shock, he reached his arm around the boy’s shoulders to tug him closer.
“And where might he have come from,” he continued, his eyes now directly on the boy. He had turned slightly to face the inmate embracing him in a halfway hug, and the inspector could see a strange, irregular hole that had been cut to the backside of his jumper.
He made a mental note to bring the inmate more clothes the next time he came by. If he didn’t have anything better to offer his guest, his wardrobe couldn’t be in a good shape.
The inmate looked up at the sky, and the inspector half-expected him to claim the boy had dropped down form the heavens. After a moment, he glanced at the boy before uttering his answer.
“The sea,” he said simply.
“Doesn’t exactly look like the type to captain a boat,” the inspector answered, quirking his other eyebrow. The situation made no sense whatsoever, and he had no idea what he was supposed to be saying. Did the manual say something about these kinds of things happening? He was quite sure he had never heard of such an oddity.
“No, he didn’t have a boat,” the inmate answered, what the inspector considered to be, honestly.
He sighed, feeling the beginnings of a nagging headache. He had wanted nothing more than to deal with the day as quickly and effectively as normal, but instead he had been presented with a silent, strange pretty boy that appeared to have materialised out of nothingness.
“Now I am quite happy albeit admittedly flabbergasted that you have managed to find yourself such, let’s say, fine company on this lonely rock, but… This makes no sense. Who is he? Why is he here? And why have you cut a hole in his jumper, for God’s sake?!”
He should have expected it by now, going by the absurdity of the day; but the reaction was something he had definitely not been waiting for. The inmate’s mouth fell open as he stared at the inspector. Then he jerked almost violently to face the boy as if to check if he was still there.
For a few times the inmate looked back and forth between them, disbelief evident on his face. The inspector saw the boy’s lips curl into a slight smile as he regarded the inmate. His attention had been fully on him for a while already as he completely ignored the presence of the inspector.
“I…” the inmate started, hesitant.
“You know what,” the inspector interrupted him. “Save it. I don’t care. I don’t know. In fact, I don’t want to know.”
He looked at the boy who was still staring up at the inmate’s face as if it was all he could see. Well, it couldn’t be too hard to woo someone so completely like that out here, the inspector reckoned. Not many rivals around after all.
“I know you probably hate me, and let me assure you the feeling is mutual,” he continued at the poor inmate who was still looking very confused. “But I do not wish bad on you. If it makes you happy to have around some mysterious pretty boy who appeared from the sea like a damned mermaid… Hell, I would have believed you if you told me he’s an angel who fell from the sky straight onto your arms. I don’t care. Keep him.”
And it was there, what he had been waiting to see all these years. The inmate’s face distorted unfamiliarly, and then he was smiling.
It wasn’t a wide smile, couldn’t have ever been called a grin by any means, but it was a smile all the same.
He couldn’t help it when his own face automatically answered the sincere emotion. The inspector’s lips curled up as well, in a way he couldn’t hide with any amount of fake throat clearing.
“It might be against the rules,” he said, “but how are they ever going to know, huh? Not a single big shot has stepped their foot on this rock since…well, since forever. And well, if you don’t tell, I won’t tell either.”
The inmate bowed quickly, his smile still intact.
“Thank you, sir,” he said quietly and squeezed the boy against his side tightly. The inspector could see his hand shaking slightly, although he clearly tried to hide it.
“I might even see if we could arrange you a little extra food,” the inspector spoke nonchalantly, feeling generous. It felt like seeing that smile on the inmate’s face had freed something inside him; he was going to try to keep it there as long as he could.
“But since they don't know you are two people here now, the quota stays at one ton,” he added quickly, sparing the boy another glance. “The little one doesn’t exactly look suited for manual labour anyway.”
“Oh sir,” the inmate burst out, “you’d be surprised.”
The inspector stared at him, not knowing how to react at all. He had never seen the man even close to this open; this easy to read. After a silent moment, the man started fidget under his heavy gaze, even blushing a little.
“Spare me,” the inspector managed to sputter out finally. “I know nothing about what you two do here when there’s only seagulls around to witness… And I’d rather it stayed like that.”
“It’s nothing like that, sir, what I meant is that Jaejoong is a great help to me everyday when I-” the inmate started blabbering quickly, only to be interrupted by the inspector again.
“I said I’d rather it stayed like that,” he smiled. The inmate hung his head, and the boy rested his own against the man’s shoulder, grinning like nothing the inspector had ever seen.
That evening, when he piloted his boat away from the island-after having been proven that the boy was actually very much capable of manual labour-his heart felt so light he thought it might soar.
A/N: Art in the beginning by a Finnish artist Jorma Haavisto.
This story was my baby ;-; I loved the idea but I am not so sure about the outcome. It's the kind of story I will never be able to put on paper the way it was inside my head... There is no balance, but I don't know how to rewrite it oTL If anyone managed to get through the extremely long, adjective-abusing beginning, I hope the rest was enjoyable.
My dear friend jaemono drew a beautiful, wonderful fanart for this story... Go take a look at Jaejoong the angel and Jyuni the seagull here!!!!