[Fic] Breakwater - 2/2
***
Kyuhyun did not send someone to the outer reaches of the castle, but came to retrieve Zhou Mi himself. Zhou Mi had eaten, prepared himself though he had no true idea what Kyuhyun had planned. He knew, perhaps, that it would not include another romp on the beach. He did not dress as though he would meet with the king, but he dressed with care, choosing a favorite of his shirts, making sure his boots were polished and clean.
“I thought of sending a servant, but it just seemed useless,” Kyuhyun said, his words quicker than normal as he led Zhou Mi through endless hallways, and several guard posts. “It was easier to get you back here myself, as my guest, even though you are already in the complex itself.”
Of course, visiting the prince - wherever the prince was taking him - was a bit different than the outer reaches. The room they entered appeared to be a sitting room, with a door that stood open to a bedroom beyond. Kyuhyun’s room, he realized, recognizing the jacket, the emblazoned crest abandoned on a chair. But Kyuhyun did not stop, pausing only a moment when he put his hand on the metal handle of a thick wooden door and pulled. It was not an opening to another room, but to a balcony built off of the side of the room. It sat near the cliff, facing out toward the ocean, and Zhou Mi stepped out, awed.
It was lit with stationary lanterns, the flames within the glass flickering gently from the ocean breeze. There were screens rolled up on the length of each side to be let down if needed, and a long, deep seat that was well-padded and studded with pillows. The boats were docked in an inlet to his left, but all that stretched as far as he could see was endless beach and the water that met it.
“You must be able to hear yourself think here,” Zhou Mi murmured. In the daytime there would be the sound of the ocean and birds, but it was far enough away from the town to be sheltered from the voices of people.
“And with less sand,” Kyuhyun agreed. “Wine?”
Kyuhyun offered a glass to him, holding another in his other hand, and Zhou Mi accepted. Kyuhyun had prepared, had wanted to show him this sanctuary.
“Yes, thank you,” he said. The world outside of the balcony had been enclosed in dark, but they had the lanterns, and it made the balcony feel almost protected, enclosed, even if it was not. The wine was cool and smooth, and Zhou Mi inhaled before taking another sip. Yes, perfect. It was relaxation itself to sit, to be cradled by the breeze and have his glass filled again when it was drained, to smile at the way that Kyuhyun slouched and spoke without restraint. Their glasses were abandoned, facing each other on the deep seat, pillows propping them up. And maybe it was the wine, or the shadows, but there was a curve to Kyuhyun’s lips, a softness to his eyes, that Zhou Mi did not remember.
“You seem happier,” Zhou Mi said, though it seemed an odd thing to say aloud, something prone to perhaps cause misunderstanding. He’d seen Kyuhyun in his discontent, in determination, in mirth. But it was none of those things then, a certain kind of peace that Zhou Mi hadn’t observed even when they had played along the beach.
“Instead of focusing on what I could not accomplish and letting that sour me, I have been focusing on what I can. I haven’t given up on those big ideas, but… At least they are steps that are moving forward.”
“That is a good way to look at it. It’s easy to drown in far off goals when there are ways to get there.”
“Does that mean I’m growing up?”
Zhou Mi shook his head. “People far older than you have been lost by much less. Perhaps it is wisdom, but your age has nothing to do with it. I admire that you have kept working toward it. That is something I very much respect.”
Kyuhyun’s inhale sounded almost like a click, his body straightening before he stood.
“You’re- Thank you,” Kyuhyun said, and took the two steps to reach the balcony railing, looking over the ocean instead. And the topic turned, perhaps based on what Kyuhyun saw. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t live near enough to hear the ocean.”
In his head, Zhou Mi agreed, but all he could really do was rise to look out at the ocean that was close, but still too far away to touch. Kyuhyun knew of the quiet that came from sinking into the waters, but not the darkness, not the crashing of the waves or calls of sea birds. It was not tranquil but full of the pull of life against death, of color and bleakness. But the sight of it, the sound of it, was all that he had most days. And knowing that Kyuhyun depended upon its presence was not a small pleasure. He was not the ocean, but it was a part of him, and it was fanciful indeed to imagine that Kyuhyun also imagined that his life would be less without Zhou Mi’s presence - not that he would not be missed, but that the hole that he would leave would be unable to be filled. He could slip back into those waters, satisfied one day, perhaps. He wondered if there could ever be such satisfaction.
“I find peace when I return near the ocean,” Zhou Mi said, and the rail he grasped was smooth stone beneath his fingers. “Sometimes I wonder if I will, but that I miss it comes crashing back onto me when I smell the air and know I am near.”
“Is that all you miss?” Kyuhyun asked, and Zhou Mi turned toward him, curious. “I find comfort in speaking to my mother, and my brother listens better than you might expect. I wonder why you seem to ease my mind when you arrive.”
“We are similar,” Zhou Mi offered, but Kyuhyun shook his head.
“In some ways, but I would not say many. You come back here when there is nothing calling you, though I haven’t figured out what else might occupy your time. There are many towns on many beaches, but you come here. Are there others you visit? Or am I the only one you seek out?”
Zhou Mi wanted a lie, a well-crafted one, but when his mouth opened, he could find only those that felt false. It was not a truth he wanted to tell, but the truth was all he had. “I visit no one else, here. I enjoy this place.”
But that was not truly all of it.
“You visit me, and yet you ask for no favors, no introductions. You play no politics, unless urging me to pursue my interests is of some design. Do you lull me? Do you wish an audience with my father?”
“I do not!” Zhou Mi said, and he stood straighter at that, and his emphatic response only made Kyuhyun’s head tilt.
“I did not think so, because you haven’t even hinted at it. Most men don’t have years to cultivate such plans. But even then, you have not. You’ve brought me terrible candy, rocks, lunch. You laugh at me, when some are too weak even to look at me. The thought of me thinking you want something from me disturbs you so, but surely there is something else.”
Zhou Mi lifted his chin, his jaw set as Kyuhyun stepped closer. His intent could not be interpreted so. Yes, there was something he wanted, but it was not something Kyuhyun would ever begin to guess at. And yes, what he cultivated was an opportunity, should it be needed. But it was not what Kyuhyun thought.
“Your Highness-“
“Oh, are we being formal now, Ambassador Zhou?” Kyuhyun asked, tugging at the edge of one of Zhou Mi’s sleeves. “Is it friendship you seek?”
“You gave that freely,” Zhou Mi said. “Perhaps too freely, but that was not my intent either, merely a…a…”
The ability to form words, and the air in his lungs left him as Kyuhyun turned over the shell pendant upon his chest.
“You come from the sea,” Kyuhyun said. “You did not sneer at me when I spoke, and you are more worldly than many. Perhaps friendship was an accident or luck, but was that all you sought after, returning only to speak to a friend?”
There were so many words trapped in his throat, so many denials, or soothing words. But Kyuhyun was too close to be able to look away, too intent to try and conceal. What did he want to hear, that was what Zhou Mi wanted to know. What did he want from Zhou Mi, if he believed that Zhou Mi wasn’t there to use him. His eyes were drawn down, watching the barest tip of Kyuhyun’s tongue wet his lips. His own lips parted, nearly copying that action before he caught hold of himself, his eyes lifting again.
“Kyuhyun,” he said, and it was nearly pleading, wondering if Kyuhyun would even understand what troubled him, what held him. He could have stepped away, shoved Kyuhyun away. It did not take words to show, it could have been done by action alone.
The first brush of Kyuhyun’s lips was tentative, and Zhou Mi’s lashes fell at the second, bolder kiss when Zhou Mi had not gasped or pushed him back. Kyuhyun smelled of wine, and Zhou Mi’s heart clutched for a moment to imagine Kyuhyun earlier with his cheeks wet from the ocean, to think he would have tasted of salt. It took everything he had not to reach, to test the solidness of Kyuhyun’s body against him, to press back against Kyuhyun’s mouth until they yielded together. And it was a loss, not to feel Kyuhyun’s mouth against him.
“Zhou Mi?”
“If your parents- If anyone knew, would they…? There are things you want to accomplish!” Zhou Mi choked out, and he was horrified to think that the dreams Kyuhyun had could be out of reach because of a single kiss.
“This is freedom,” Kyuhyun said, and when Zhou Mi scoffed, Kyuhyun gripped Zhou Mi’s collar and made him sway. “My obligation is to the people, and I do not give that up, but to have a little happiness, a little freedom, that should not be a barrier to it.”
“Should not,” Zhou Mi repeated softly. To get to know Kyuhyun, that had been nearly a requirement To want to see him again, it had been eagerness to fulfill his own bargain, but it had been Kyuhyun and the ocean both making sure that he watched with eagerness for the first edges of the city.
“You have never treated me as though I was stupid, not from the first,” Kyuhyun said. “You shouldn’t question me now. If you do not want this for your own sake, that is different, so if you turn me away it has to be for you.”
Zhou Mi wondered what he would do, what trust he would have to break, all of the reasons he had held himself away when he had been caught by Kyuhyun’s voice, by his mind, his touch. The brush of Kyuhyun’s lips against his was not a kiss, but a question, giving Zhou Mi the opportunity to pull away as they stood together, breathing.
It took only a nudge to press their lips together, his skin suffusing with warmth as Kyuhyun moaned against his mouth. His hands spread against Kyuhyun’s waist, sliding into his lower back and holding him as he kissed Kyuhyun, and felt Kyuhyun press back eagerly and take and hold. He’d been kissed before but not by a man who invited him so eagerly, a man who wanted to absorb him, breathing with him, kissing him. The sounds that Kyuhyun made caused his ears to burn, soft ones that melded with his as Kyuhyun’s teeth tugged at his lip.
There were arms circling his neck, holding him close, until the kisses made him feel like he was drowning, and he had never drowned before. It was Kyuhyun who gasped, groaning as he gripped Zhou Mi tighter.
“I knew it, I knew it,” Kyuhyun murmured, his words nearly muffled into Zhou Mi’s neck.
“Knew what?”
“I knew it was meant, from the moment you jumped in after the boat.”
He wondered how he could tell Kyuhyun that the feelings he held were as impermanent as the legs that Zhou Mi stood upon.
“You never demanded I come back,” Zhou Mi said, hardly believing that Kyuhyun could have truly believed for that long.
“That’s because I knew you would. As long as you wanted to, you would. You thought of me, when you were gone.”
There was something bright there, something that wasn’t blind belief, but knowledge, seeing deeper than Zhou Mi had dared to look. There was determination, a thing that Kyuhyun had learned, a belief in himself and a belief he could imbue into others. When Kyuhyun met his eyes, he saw all of it, the months of waiting, the tangle of hope, the inadvisable belief. When he had sat at Zhou Mi’s side, and bared the part of him that hoped for change in his kingdom, tender and afraid - knowing Zhou Mi would not mock him for it. Kyuhyun had believed in Zhou Mi, and Zhou Mi had not even known.
Zhou Mi led him, and pushed away his fears, his worries, pushed away the bargain itself. It was selfish, and maybe it was wrong, but if he had one night on land, he wanted that one, to feel the press of Kyuhyun’s hip against his and the warmth of his mouth. Before him was a prince with dark eyes, who loved his family, and his kingdom. They held each other until the candles sputtered, and the kisses that parted them were not of question. It made Zhou Mi believe, as he gave Kyuhyun his smile, that they would greet each other again after the sun had risen.
***
Kyuhyun struggled in his sheets, moaning at the weight on his eyes, the light, in the dark. He gasped, his chest heaving as he struggled from the waters of dreams, moaning at the ache in his head, in his throat. He reached, and the bed beside him was empty. Yes. Zhou Mi had gone back to his room. He had never been in Kyuhyun’s bed, though had his own boldness been just a little more, perhaps Zhou Mi would have been. Even if only to have slept. It was better that way, perhaps, to make sure that Zhou Mi was sure of him. His kisses had been sure, the way he had cupped Kyuhyun’s neck and gripped his waist. Everything and yet not enough, and Kyuhyun rose from the bed, too energized to stay there. The balcony was dark, the lights long cool, and the sun still hours from rising. The moon, all half of it, lit the ocean, the beach, and Kyuhyun breathed in the air and remembered Zhou Mi at his side.
It was a movement in white that caught his eye, a figure climbing down the stairs toward the beach. He watched for a long moment, before realizing he knew that walk, that shirt, the cut of his hair, even in the moonlight. Perhaps Zhou Mi was as restless as him, going down to walk the beach. It made him grin, reaching for his robe and racing far quicker than was proper toward the door. All he could hear was his own breathing, the castle deeply asleep but for the occasional guard. They peered at him but let him pass, and he walked past them as normal, before darting around the corner and pushing free of the door that led to the stairs.
Zhou Mi had not gone far, maybe a hundred feet down the beach and the white of his shirt stark as he walked toward the dark water. Kyuhyun opened his mouth to shout, but stopped, watching as Zhou Mi pulled the white shirt over his head and discarded it on the sand like a battered flag.
“Zhou Mi!”
His voice carried in the wind, and it felt like it slapped it back at him. Zhou Mi didn’t falter, wading into the water as steadily as he had on land. The stone of the sea stairs was harsh against his feet but he did not stop, faltering only a moment as he got his bearing on the dry sand. Zhou Mi had gotten far enough that he was no longer walking, but swimming.
“Zhou Mi!”
Again, his words did nothing. He shed his robe, hissing at the cold of the water as it lapped almost immediately up to his knees. He forged another step, two, three, until he could dive forward, kicking strongly and propelling himself through the water toward the pale shape of Zhou Mi’s back and the splashes left by his swimming. Perhaps he went for a swim only, but he was so determined, not responding to Kyuhyun’s calls.
It chilled him more than the water did.
“Zhou Mi, stop!” Kyuhyun tried one more time, and then inhaled deep, swimming as though their lives depended upon it. Over waves, ducking beneath them, keeping Zhou Mi just within sight. But it was within a dozen more strokes that he realized there were no more splashes, just a pale, floating back. No. No. He swam hard, pushed by the waves, pushing against them and he reached. A wave pulled him under for a moment, crashing over his head and choking him. He rose up, sputtering. Zhou Mi’s back, it was only ten feet away. He could get there. But he swam, and kicked, and fought, and he got not one bit closer, until he was nearly sobbing with it, his heart thundering and arms leaden.
And he was cold. He kicked, and a muscle in his thigh screamed. Every time he tried to move, it felt like his leg was on fire. He gurgled, reaching for it, dipping as low in the water as he dared as the ocean buffeted him about. Zhou Mi was so close, but his legs would not take him. He turned his head toward the shore, and saw the lights, distant.
It wasn’t possible that he could have swam that far. How did he turn back, knowing he could have saved Zhou Mi. But to swim further was certain death. Zhou Mi had kissed him, despite his worries. Zhou Mi had believed in him. He could not leave him there to die. Just two more strokes. He could reach him, he could-
The pale, floating back dissolved into sea form in his hands, and Kyuhyun recoiled, coughing, choking as he fought his head above the water. His eyes burned with salt, streaming with tears from his leg, but there was no body, nothing. Just him, and the waves. The waves. The tide was turning, pulling away, and Kyuhyun tried to put the pain from his head, tried to kick with his good leg as futile as he knew it was as his lungs burned with effort. The beach, the sand, was like some unreachable goal, ten, twenty, thirty times the length of his own body and so many waves away. He was too far, too far to let the water carry him - if he floated, it would only take him out.
A wave lifted him, dropped him, flooded over him, and he exhaled under the rush of the water, trying to kick through the pain to the surface, one more lungful of air, so he could try one more time.
He was sobbing as he looked behind him at the endless march of waves, at the wave that rose above him, the one he knew would drive him down and not let him up.
He turned to shore, dragging his arms through the water.
“Zhou Mi!” he shouted, but it came out a strangled, desperate croak, his voice destroyed by the water. He inhaled, and the water beat him under.
His lungs hurt as he held his breath, hoping for the wave to pass, for the chance to rise up again as the water swirled and drove him. Bubbles escaped through his nose and he nearly gulped air in reflex, clasping his hand over his mouth as he remembered his dreams, remembered drowning over, and over. He reached, but the surface was beyond him, and his legs were leaden, shooting pain. He exhaled again, and thought it a trick of his own mind, the shadow, the drive of a tail, the flash of a fin nearly as tall as he was. There were arms, a torso, a head. A tail, that long and supple tail. A mermaid.
For a moment he was held, arms wrapping around him, and he thought it his dying delusion as he gave in to his body’s demand and inhaled the water.
***
It stung. It felt like his lungs were being pulled out from his throat as he coughed, inhaled air mixed with water and vomited before doing it all again. But the second time, he took in more air, the water in his throat less as he whimpered and shook and pressed his face into the wet sand. The air was like a precious stone that instead of touching, he drew in greedily, over and over as though he wondered if it would still be there the next time he tried. His eyes welled hot, clearing them, and he realized his was alive. Somehow alive.
A hand stroked his back and Kyuhyun gulped, not having even the strength to lift his head but only to turn it, waiting, almost gasping as Zhou Mi’s face lowered into view.
“Zhou Mi! I couldn’t get to you.”
“I know. I know. Shhh, don’t speak. Just focus on breathing,” Zhou Mi soothed.
“How-“
He’d seen Zhou Mi on the beach. Or, he thought he had. Had he been sleepwalking? Zhou Mi was in front of him, but the shirt he wore was not white but dark.
“I heard you calling for me. I don’t know how,” Zhou Mi said, and it did not even sound like Zhou Mi’s voice to his ears, tight and scared. And it had nothing to do with the water still in them. “I got to you just after you went under. Did you hear me calling for you?”
Kyuhyun shook his head, shuddering as he gripped Zhou Mi’s shirt.
“I saw you on the beach. I- I followed you into the water. It was like my nightmares.”
“You dreamed of following me into the water?”
“Of drowning,” Kyuhyun said, and watched Zhou Mi’s face go tight as he pulled Kyuhyun against him, held him. He was real, solid, not a bit of foam. Alive. They were both alive.
He had imagined a mermaid coming to him, and there was Zhou Mi instead. He looked down, breathless, and felt silly to see only two pale, bare legs. He let Zhou Mi pull him closer, his mind exhausted.
“Kyuhyun, Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi said, his voice choked with the tears that ran hot down Kyuhyun’s skin.
***
He needed to get Kyuhyun to warmth. He needed to get Kyuhyun away from the ocean, from the cold, from everything. He had not known Kyuhyun dreamed of drowning, had not known the danger Kyuhyun had been in. He wanted to shake Kyuhyun for every detail, to confirm the fears that he was sure he already knew. Kyuhyun could have died, had come so close to it, when Zhou Mi had dragged him to the surface and breathed into him before taking him to the shore.
The first press of lips had not been to save Kyuhyun’s life, but Zhou Mi feared that instead he had endangered it. Zhou Mi wiped his face clean, and sat up, briefly touching Kyuhyun’s pale face before pulling a sinew from around his own neck. The pendant that dangled from it was smooth, worn from years of touching. On one side in gleamed in pinks and purples and gold, fading to the intricate carving in the ivory shell on the other side. He draped it over Kyuhyun’s neck, and felt at least some of the pressing fear ease.
“What is this?” Kyuhyun asked, reaching to touch it.
“A ward,” Zhou Mi said. “It is said to protect you against the darkest of dreams.”
And the manipulation of them. Kyuhyun remembered no storms, no near-brush to death. It was not Kyuhyun who was being called to the sea, but him, and it was not Kyuhyun’s life that was being asked for but Zhou Mi’s promise. It was a bargain he could not put off, not much longer.
“Tell me. What in your life is a thing most important?” Zhou Mi asked, and Kyuhyun pressed his cheek, still wet, against Zhou Mi’s palm.
“My crown.”
The same answer, again, and that made it truth.
“Where is it kept?”
“With the others, in the room next to mine,” Kyuhyun said, as guileless as a newborn babe. “I keep the key beside my bed so I can-”
Kyuhyun coughed, clearing more water from his lungs and throat and Zhou Mi held him, nodding, murmuring.
He smoothed his thumb against Kyuhyun’s wet skin. “Thank you,” he said, and kissed Kyuhyun’s forehead. With his pants gone, somewhere lost in the ocean, Zhou Mi instead wrapped himself in Kyuhyun’s abandoned robe, and lifted Kyuhyun into his arms to carry him up the long sea steps. From where they had lain, his footsteps began, but there were no footprints leading up from the ocean, just two marks drug into the sand. One of the human being pulled free from the clutch of death, and one made by Zhou Mi who dragged himself free of the ocean’s grasp once again.
***
It was almost four months before Zhou Mi saw the ocean again, the air hot and close, enfolding him with heat and damp the moment he descended from his carriage. Kyuhyun’s fight in the ocean had not left him free of repercussions, his lungs tight and his body hot as his body fought what was inside of him. Zhou Mi stayed until he knew Kyuhyun would be well again, at Kyuhyun’s side only because Kyuhyun pleaded for it. Every day for a week, he passed by the table that held the key Kyuhyun had spoke of. Every day he did not open it, wiping Kyuhyun’s forehead, stroking the lines of his fingers, joking that he would beat the ocean no matter what. There was no good explanation for Kyuhyun’s family besides sleepwalking, that Zhou Mi had pulled Kyuhyun from the water.
When there was no one else there, he pressed kisses to Kyuhyun’s cheeks, his forehead, the back of his hand, his palm. He watched the curl of of Kyuhyun’s lips and tried to warm him from his shivers, from his racking coughs. His eyes had been wide but understanding when Zhou Mi told him he was leaving.
Kyuhyun still believed that he would return even though Zhou Mi did not tell him that he would. The promise had stuck in his throat, and he left, knowing distance between them would protect Kyuhyun from the nightmares as much as the ward would. He passed by that damnable table one last time and half did not know himself if he would return.
But it was his own weakness that drew him, not one conjured by his own mind, but in truth, like every day spent away from the ocean leeched the life from his bones. Every mile he had grown closer had been a mile he had felt better, until he stood in the heat and dipped his hands into the water, and felt himself again. He stood in the shadow of the castle, in the setting sun. He walked to the dock and found it empty, walked the beach and did not see a familiar form waiting for him. The balcony, what he could see of it, was empty too.
He thought of climbing the rocks, all the way up there, and the thought of it had him rolling his eyes at himself before he turned for the stairs. The echoed memory of Kyuhyun’s laughter drove him quicker, until he was gulping for air as he slipped as far into the castle as he was allowed. Even if they knew his face, even if the guard remembered him from when Kyuhyun had been ill, Zhou Mi waited, smoothing down his hair, and trying to calm his heart. Not that it had any effect when Kyuhyun turned the corner. He wanted to chirp out a greeting, or leap forward with his arms spread, but he bowed instead, staying low until Kyuhyun’s knuckled banged none too gently into his skull.
“It’s about time,” Kyuhyun said.
There were no teasing exchanges of formal names, just Kyuhyun grabbing onto Zhou Mi’s sleeve and pulling him with him all the way to a door that had been too familiar for all the wrong reasons.
“It was too long,” Zhou Mi said as Kyuhyun closed the door leading to his rooms. And Zhou Mi moaned, his skin tingling as Kyuhyun’s arms wrapped tight around his ribs. He breathed in Kyuhyun’s hair and smelled the ocean. Home. “Too long.”
“You leave when I was practically on my deathbed,” Kyuhyun complained, only satisfied it seemed when Zhou Mi squeezed him tightly back. “You didn’t even get to see me wheezing up and down the hallways.”
“But you’re better?”
“For a long time, yes. But that’s not the point. You didn’t stay long enough.”
“I stayed longer than I had planned to,” Zhou Mi felt the need to point out. He’d meant to have a few days at the most.
“But those plans were before you kissed me,” Kyuhyun said, and that was truth enough. Whoever had done the initiating, it didn’t matter. “Are you going to kiss me tonight?”
“I could,” Zhou Mi agreed, though neither of them moved even one muscle to let each other go. “Kyuhyun. It’s harder- It’s harder to stay away.”
There was a moment of silence before Kyuhyun said, “Good,” and made Zhou Mi’s ribs creak with his hug.
And when Kyuhyun deigned to let him go, and who was he to give a prince orders, Kyuhyun was smirking, tilting away when Zhou Mi lowered his head and tried to kiss him.
But Zhou Mi only missed once, cupping his palms on Kyuhyun’s jaw and kissing him, long, and slow, and sweet. If he had forgotten, if he had needed to know how much he missed having Kyuhyun’s lips pressing into his, he wondered no more.
Kyuhyun kissed him again, a little less tender. “Have you eaten?”
Zhou Mi blinked. “What?”
“Food. Have you eaten food?”
And Zhou Mi sighed as Kyuhyun laughed at him.
To know he had made Kyuhyun feel that secure, oh it sang in him. He listened to Kyuhyun after plates had been brought for them, accomplishments Kyuhyun had made, the contract put to his father for perusal, the fishing trip he had taken with his brother.
“I should-“
“Don’t,” Kyuhyun said, when Zhou Mi had only half gotten the words out of his mouth. Perhaps it had been the regret in the way he leaned, but Kyuhyun had known what he’d been about to say.
“Should I sleep on your rug like a loyal dog?” Zhou Mi wondered. He wondered how much sand was in it.
“You can sleep on the rug if you’d like,” Kyuhyun offered, letting him take as much of that rope as he would like. But it seemed like Kyuhyun had more ideas, like pulling Zhou Mi under his blankets and kissing him, using his chest as a pillow with the night dark around them. Kyuhyun slept, his breaths deep and even and Zhou Mi wondered how he could leave, how he could stand it. He wondered how he lay there knowing the secret he had that simmered deep, the reason he had never let himself feel what he was right then, and completely at a loss to stop himself. He had started it in his head a dozen times on different nights, alone and wondering. He was an ambassador, yes, but of a place Kyuhyun could never see. There was no boat to take him there, no wagon.
“Do you know how I saved you?” Zhou Mi whispered, and got only the quiet burr of Kyuhyun’s breathing. “I am not what you think.”
But he slept, warm, his breaths even with Kyuhyun.
And Zhou Mi woke with a start, his side cold and the bed shaking. He turned, reached, stared, heart stumbling in his chest as Kyuhyun’s back bowed off of the bed, a horrible choking sound from his throat as though the air was being squeezed from him.
“Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun, wake up,” Zhou Mi demanded, gripping his shoulders and shaking him.
Kyuhyun whimpered, shuddering, panting as he collapsed back onto the mattress and stared blindly up at Zhou Mi.
Kyuhyun retched, turning, vomiting water onto the floor. Clear water. Sea water. Drowning in his own bed.
His head rung, his lips pressing against Kyuhyun’s shoulder.
“Do you trust me?” Zhou Mi asked.
***
Zhou Mi stumbled through the fine sand, a crown of gold clutched in his hands as the air hummed with energy, like it would crackle around him. He did not falter, he did not slow, as from the ocean, a figure took form, tall, fathomless like the sky with distant stars.
“I’ve come to fulfill our bargain,” Zhou Mi said.
***
Stay, Zhou Mi had said. Stay, he’d almost demanded, fear in his eyes like none Kyuhyun had ever seen, not even when he’d been five and and his mother had rushed to him after he’d been thrown from his father’s horse. Kyuhyun trusted, and that was why he had not been able to stay, why he crept after Zhou Mi and conjured so many reasons that Zhou Mi had asked for the key that would give him access to Kyuhyun’s crown. He did not want to wear it. It was not a joke, not a lark, not a theft. Of that he was more certain than anything. If it was a threat to Zhou Mi’s life, perhaps. He would not have held back a piece of gold to see him safe, if it came to that. When he had vomited, Zhou Mi had been there, pulling him from the nightmare and making him stir when the bed shifted. He’d listened to Zhou Mi’s murmurs, waking as he heard words like “trust” and “for your life.”
It had sounded so much like Zhou Mi had feared for him and not for himself.
It felt like he was tottering as he watched Zhou Mi stagger through the sand like a man who was drunk, fighting the wind and the-
Kyuhyun almost fell onto his knees as the water gathered, rising like some kind of spout through the wave until it settled into a form, something vaguely human but huge, three times as tall as Zhou Mi and wide and dark. To it, Zhou Mi lifted his hands, lifted the crown, and Kyuhyun gasped as Zhou Mi staggered back, the crown bouncing along the sand halfway to Kyuhyun’s feet. And the water rushed in, the wind with it, whistling past his ears.
“Zhou Mi!” Kyuhyun shouted, for a moment losing sight of Zhou Mi as the water covered him. “Zhou Mi!”
Zhou Mi had half sat up and Kyuhyun felt the air rumble, like the ocean was laughing, like the thing laughed and Kyuhyun knelt, unable to stand.
“Show him what you are,” the creature told Zhou Mi. “Or does he already know?”
The water drew out, and out, baring Zhou Mi’s torso, his hips. And Zhou Mi looked to Kyuhyun as the water lowered, where two legs had been, scales gleamed, a tail that drew on and on to an arched fin that split in the foaming water.
“Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi said. And he seemed to wake, struggling, turning, holding out a hand as though he could push Kyuhyun away. “It’s not safe!”
It was not horror that Kyuhyun had seen what he was- He wasn’t even sure what he had seen. He wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming, that Zhou Mi was stretched out on the sand as some creature from a tale and not the man he was still learning. Zhou Mi could swim, he knew that, but…
The tail, the gleaming length of it, arms that had drew him up, and up.
“You saved me from drowning,” Kyuhyun said. Not just in the way Kyuhyun had thought. Zhou Mi had-
“Please,” Zhou Mi pleaded with him, dragging himself on his elbows. And sitting, turning to the looming mass. “Your bargain is with me. He is no part of this. Leave him be.”
“Is he not? You bring me this, an important thing, but what will I do with metal and stone? The sea cannot devour it.” And the creature seemed to look at Kyuhyun, look into him. “Will you sing, little human? Will you sing until you scream like you did in your dreams?”
“My dreams?”
“What are you without your voice, just a pale shadow of king. One who cannot sing, who cannot speak his mind, who has no place and no usefulness.”
Kyuhyun rose from his knees, bracing himself against the wind. “I am more than that!” he shouted, his words slapped back at him but still audible.
“Perhaps,” the creature said, and light shot out of it, racing on a gust of wind and stopping, gleaming and crackling as his hands flew up to protect himself. But it did not touch him. He drew breath, gaping as the pendant shell rose to meet the light, glowing white hot just inches from his nose. The sand shook with a roar, and Kyuhyun fell, slamming hard on his back as though thrown, gasping as all the air left his lungs. The sound he made was of fright, reaching for his throat.
But it was sound, nonetheless.
And Zhou Mi laughed, the sound high, almost hysterical. “You cannot touch him. You may have found a way into his dreams again, but you cannot hurt him now. He has seen you! I don’t need legs if he is safe. I fulfilled my part.”
“There is still a price to be paid! If he cannot, then you will.”
No. Kyuhyun saw the light gathering, saw the acceptance on Zhou Mi’s face. Kyuhyun shoved himself to his knees, staggering, almost skipping as the world tilted and he fell onto Zhou Mi’s body.
It is a ward, Zhou Mi had said. You are precious to them. You will find a way.
He was the one who screamed as the light ran through him, bursting through out of his chest and lighting them both as though it was still day. The pendant pulsed like a beating heart, white, blue, red, turning the light red. Red like blood. He’d drowned in it, he’d-
The sinew snapped, the earth moaning, and Kyuhyun tumbled forward, squashing Zhou Mi down into the sand as the wind howled and the water buried them. All he could do was hold on as Zhou Mi struggled to fight the raging pull as the water drew back. Kyuhyun had only time to gasp a breath as they broke above the surface before another wave crashed over them. But Zhou Mi fought them up again and they bobbed in the water, watching the monster sway and groan. He clung to Zhou Mi’s neck and watched the pinprick of light grow, the pendant, he realized, shaking and just barely burying his face into Zhou Mi’s neck as water sprayed around them, first hard, and then like gentlest rain.
His voice was unsteady, gulping as he asked, “Is it still there?”
“No,” Zhou Mi said. “No. It’s gone. I think it’s gone.”
All that was left was the water, a track of foam leading from where the monster had been. Kyuhyun let himself be moved in the water, until he could get his knees under him on the beach and crawl forward almost on his belly, grateful for land in a way he had never been before.
“What was that?” he asked, as Zhou Mi drew even with him.
“Pure magic,” Zhou Mi said, his voice so quiet and quick. “It grants wishes. It absorbs power from people, and things. It was the reason you dreamed. It was the one who caused you nearly to drown. It enslaves, and-“
Kyuhyun poked his fingers into Zhou Mi’s shoulder. “What possessed you to make a bargain with a thing like that!”
“I wanted legs! Ow!” Zhou Mi said as Kyuhyun jabbed him again. “I only met you because of them!”
He jabbed Zhou Mi a couple more times for good measure, and it was lost on neither of them that legs had carried Zhou Mi to Kyuhyun, but he did not have legs any longer.
“My foot hurts,” Zhou Mi said, a weak chuckle leaving him as Kyuhyun twisted. They both watched as his fin lifted out of the water and splashed back down. It was a terrible joke and all Kyuhyun could do was stare at the lazily floating fin, unable to comprehend its existence.
“How did you save me from drowning, if you had legs?”
“I could turn back when I wanted,” Zhou Mi said. “If I was in the ocean, I could become as I am now. I had to leave the water, though, in order to turn back. I always feared that I wouldn’t be able to, so that… That was the only time. If I had known it would put you in that kind of danger, I would have never spoken your name.”
Zhou Mi had turned back to his former self to save him. And Zhou Mi had given up his legs to protect him.
“You said,” Kyuhyun began, and he had to swallow to compose himself. “You said, you had to leave the ocean to turn back. Can you still? If it is gone, can you?”
“I don’t know! Aren’t you angry? Why are you-”
“I kissed a mer…thing. Merman? Merperson? Do you even, I don’t. You,” Kyuhyun babbled, at they stared at each other. “Are you still the same person?”
“More or less,” Zhou Mi said, and the less was rather obvious. “I wanted to tell you. I was going to.”
Zhou Mi had asked for his help, when it had counted, even if he hadn’t told the whole of it. Kyuhyun didn’t even know what he was thinking, too spectacular to even conceive of it. Zhou Mi was Zhou Mi, and that was all he knew. The eyes, the voice, the face in front of him, they were all Zhou Mi. His skin was wetter, things just different. It was like looking into a fire and knowing it but not truly understanding the shapes it made. But when Zhou Mi hugged him, it was the same. And his stomach turned wondering if Zhou Mi had a tail, if Zhou Mi couldn’t walk on land, then what was there left? What did they even have, if where Zhou Mi was, Kyuhyun never could be.
“You have to stand up,” Kyuhyun said. “I can’t kiss you again unless you can stand up.”
It was a lie. He wanted to kiss Zhou Mi and comfort him, watching the tears running down Zhou Mi’s cheeks just from being held. Maybe his were the same, but his eyes stinging were the least of his worries. He needed to know. He needed Zhou Mi. He needed Zhou Mi to be there with him. And that meant he had to stand.
Kyuhyun gripped Zhou Mi’s offered wrists and dragged him. Every bit of Zhou Mi had to be out of the water, down to the very tips of the long fin. He wanted to touch it, explore everything, and all he could focus on was pulling, gasping, gently letting go until Zhou Mi’s fingers were clasped in his.
“Please,” Kyuhyun begged. He didn’t know if he begged Zhou Mi, the ocean, the monster, or himself. He begged, with his eyes closed and Zhou Mi’s fingers warm in his. He needed Zhou Mi. He needed.
His hands were trembling so hard that he didn’t know if he would be any help at all as he felt Zhou Mi struggle. He didn’t know how Zhou Mi changed, how he could stand up, how his legs began, but he didn’t need to know. He didn’t even know what to pray, what to think, how to breathe as he tried not to let himself be pulled over. He had to be strong. He had to help Zhou Mi up, like Zhou Mi had helped him. He’d believed Zhou Mi would return if he’d been meant to. He had to believe. The tension on his arms gave, and Kyuhyun’s breath sobbed out, fearing that Zhou Mi had just collapsed, had given up, had failed. He breathed in, waited, listened.
“Your Highness?” Zhou Mi said, his breath as warm, and close, as his voice was. And still Kyuhyun was frozen, as Zhou Mi’s voice gentled. “Kyuhyun. Open your eyes.”
He saw Zhou Mi’s chin first, his lips. He looked up, up, gasping in a breath when he realized he’d forgotten to breathe. Zhou Mi’s face was smeared with sand, tracks made through it from tears and the spray of water.
“How?” he asked, letting go of Zhou Mi’s hands so he could reach to touch Zhou Mi’s chest, his collarbones. He was human. He felt human. He looked it. And he was damn near naked. He wanted to know all of that, too, but that he knew could wait. As long as Zhou Mi was there, it could wait.
If Zhou Mi knew how, he never told him. Or, for all Kyuhyun knew, perhaps he did, when he kissed Kyuhyun and gathered him close. They trembled together, on the sand, with the ocean behind them and his crown half buried until they picked it up. It hung from Kyuhyun’s arm, important but not what was most important. A little hastily tied cloth was all they could do to cover Zhou Mi, and Kyuhyun did not lead or follow, as they dragged themselves like wobbly children back to his room.
“Is it strange to walk after having,” Kyuhyun wondered, waving at his own legs as he shivered right onto the bed, sand and all.
“Not after all his time, no,” Zhou Mi said. “That feels strange, not to be able to move as I have learned.”
He wanted to ask if Zhou Mi would go again, if he would slip away like a sickness to see other places, to leave Kyuhyun behind, waiting and wondering. It seemed like almost a small thing, knowing that Zhou Mi had stood, Zhou Mi had lived, and returned to him in so many ways. Zhou Mi would return, if he left. But there was place there for him, a place full of questions, but in no rush for answers as the warmth and Zhou Mi’s hand around his lulled him.
Kyuhyun woke to the sun, and the sound of the ocean. He woke to Zhou Mi beside him.
***