Chapter Text
The motor of the boat rumbled, coughing out water, spluttering and then murmuring to life. The healthy sound lasted only a few seconds before the engine coughed again and shut down.
Jungkook closed his eyes and sighed out, his hand still on the ignition. He sent a few quiet prayers to the sky and turned the ignition key again.
Only now the engine sputtered once, made a popping sound that didn’t promise anything good, and went silent.
High pitched laughter rang from the pier, instantly grating Jungkook’s ears. “I told you, you need to get it changed! Didn’t I say it last week!”
Jungkook tried to concentrate on the sound of the water lapping at the side of the boat, but the laughter continued. With a huff he stepped out to the small platform at the back.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “Go to your own boat.”
Seokjin had his hands on his hips, still a smile plastered on his disgustingly handsome face, squinting in the bright sunlight, wearing a t-shirt and shorts so colourful even the fish must have been scared of him. It was later than usual to go out to sea, but Jungkook had been trying to get the engine working for the past hour or so. And leaving the house took more time in the morning, as it these days did.
“I just came back and took the day’s catch to the buyers. I wanted to come and see if Sora will still spring back to life, apparently not.”
Jungkook didn’t look at him, he looked through the back of the boat and the enclosed cockpit, taking all of the things he came with today, and jumped over the side onto the pier. He made sure Sora was securely moored, tugging at the ropes, and began marching back towards the shore. It didn’t take long for him to hear Seokjin’s long strides following him.
“You’re quiet today,” Seokjin said when he was matching his step to Jungkook’s.
The bag he was carrying was heavy and the late spring sun was shining against his back from the cloudless sky, itching his skin. Now was not the time to delve into his feelings, especially not with Seokjin.
“Will you be able to get out there today?” Seokjin continued. “How’s your grandfather?”
Jungkook came to a stop at the end of the pier and turned towards Seokjin. “Can you just please shut up,” he said, his voice lacking the bite it could have if he was able to let everything that was festering inside to bubble up. He knew he sounded tired and he saw it from Seokjin’s face too, when the smile vanished and the worry took its place.
“I’ll figure something out,” Jungkook huffed and kept going.
Seokjin hurried after him. “I can give you part of my earnings from today!”
“Hyung, no!” Jungkook turned abruptly, to face Seokjin again. “I’ll manage, and I’m not taking handouts from my rival.”
Seokjin snorted. “Rival.”
Jungkook merely narrowed his eyes and started walking once again.
Rival. Yes, that’s exactly what Kim Seokjin was. Five years older than Jungkook, in charge of his own brand new fishing boat now that his father had decided to retire. Their families had been rivals for as long as they had lived in this small coastal village near Busan.
Because that’s how it went. Someone in the family began as a fisherman a hundred years ago and the job was then passed over to the next generation, to the next and to the next. No matter how many dreams you had, family expectations were more important. And sometimes you had no choice — no money, no dreams, no nothing… soon.
It would end with Jungkook.
“Hey.”
A hand on Jungkook’s shoulder made him jump and realise he had stopped again, zoned out. He slipped his shoulder from underneath Seokjin’s hand.
“I know my grandfather told you to look after me, but it’s unnecessary. I’ve been doing this since I was fifteen, you know that,” Jungkook said. “I’ll be fine, I’ll find money.”
Seokjin’s eyes turned a bit too serious to Jungkook’s liking so he avoided the gaze. The seagulls were screaming above. It was such a beautiful day, but the storm wasn’t simmering above or around, it was inside.
“I know, you’re a professional.” Seokjin smiled, but Jungkook knew him well enough to see that it lacked the final spice of cheerfulness. “But you’re also steering a boat that’s basically falling apart. Do they even make spare parts for it?”
“Sora is fine,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.
Sora was a beautiful squid boat, built in the sixties. The cockpit and a small cabin more towards the back, a long front deck, graceful. His grandfather had bought it after a good summer. Sure it needed to be painted yesterday and the metal parts were rusting away, eaten by the salty water, and the engine — she needed a new engine. And that required money Jungkook did not have.
“Sora is ready for the junkyard,” Seokjin chuckled.
Jungkook gave him an angry pout. “How can you be so heartless?” And continued towards the little office ahead that rented scuba diving gear.
You wouldn’t know what the office was for from the outside. The one window at the front had a small simple logo that said ‘MIN’ and the window was mostly covered with a white curtain from the seventies. Which meant it wasn’t entirely white anymore.
Jungkook lifted the hand that had less to carry to take the handle, but Seokjin was faster, pulling the door open for him.
“I am not heartless,” Seokjin said as he stepped inside after Jungkook.
“I can’t shake you off my heels then,” Jungkook sighed. “Hyung!” he shouted towards the back of the narrow space.
It wasn’t the most organised place. It was small and stuffy. The shelves on the wall contained rows of binders, years and years of information about the village harbour, the weather conditions, the catch for each fisherman, comings and goings of other vessels. In front of the window, on the left from the door, an old black leather couch filled the front of the room. The space was divided in two by a portable half wall that worked as a bulletin board for the multitudes of brochures of all kinds of excursions and trainings, most of them happening outside of the village, some even abroad. And at the back was the office table and a door towards the toilet and the storage where all the scuba gear was kept — in an immaculate order too, because that was Yoongi’s priority.
“Hyung!” Jungkook shouted again.
“So you call him hyung freely and not me, I see how it is,” Seokjin muttered from behind him, with his arms crossed. “To me you’re just a disrespectful punk most of the time even after all I do for you.” And now he was pouting.
Jungkook rolled his eyes just as they heard the toilet being flushed. Next the door at the back opened.
“What?” Yoongi asked, exasperated. He was still tying the strings that kept his joggers up.
“Can I leave my stuff here?” Jungkook asked, lifting his bags up. They were full of fishing gear, nothing he’d need at home. And it would be easier to get them from here than to carry them all the way back and then here again.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Yoongi looked down at his pants, his long black hair flopping over his face and he managed to make a neat bow. “Hyung,” he then nodded in greeting to Seokjin when he lifted his gaze, brushing his hand through his strands to move them out of his eyes. “What brings you here?”
“I came to see Jungkook, but Sora died.”
Yoongi’s eyes widened, moving from Seokjin to Jungkook and back. “Hyung,” he said from between his teeth and tried to nod towards Jungkook, but Jungkook already saw it.
They shouldn’t have to watch out for their words. If nothing else, death was inevitable in this world.
“I mean she left to greener pastures,” Seokjin said louder. “Or would bluer pastures be better?”
Yoongi buried his face in his hands and his shoulders moved up and down with a sigh.
“She didn’t die,” Jungkook said. “Where can I leave these?” He lifted his bags again.
“At the back.” Yoongi pointed behind him with his thumb. “Are you saying you can’t go out?” He asked Jungkook when he walked past towards the door Yoongi had left open.
“Nothing I can’t fix in a few days,” Jungkook said, but he wasn’t sure he believed his own words. Last time the search for a part to Sora’s engine had been months long. He had no idea what was wrong now.
As he walked into the storage room, filled with all the wetsuits hanging on the wall and the air tanks lined neatly on the floor, he heard Yoongi and Seokjin murmuring, catching words here and there. They were talking about him, of course they were.
Jungkook left his bags in an empty corner and returned to the office. “I know you’re talking about me.”
“No we weren’t,” Seokjin said.
“Jungkook,” Yoongi began. “If you and your grandfather need help — “
“No! We don’t.” And Jungkook hoped the seriousness of his expression would make it final. He could manage, he had managed until now, he would manage until — he would. He could take care of everything, the medical bills, the boat, the house, their lives — he had no choice.
“Jungkook,” Yoongi sighed.
“We’ll be fine. I just need to find a job or something,” Jungkook said without looking into Yoongi’s face. He hated seeing the pity, he hated it.
“Oh!”
The tone of Yoongi’s voice made Jungkook look up after all. Yoongi was searching for something from his messy desk, rifling through the papers. At last he came up with a bright neon yellow post-it note and handed it to Jungkook.
“What’s this?” Jungkook asked with a frown. The note only had a name and a phone number.
“A research crew is looking for someone to steer their boat for a few months.”
“Ooh, that sounds right up your alley, Kookie.” Seokjin nudged Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered. “And don’t call me Kookie.”
“See, this is what I get,” Seokjin said to Yoongi who only smiled.
“Think about it,” Yoongi said. “It might be a good opportunity to try something else. Get your mind off things, meet new people.”
Jungkook was still staring at the note, the yellow hurting his eyes. He flapped it a few times against his fingers. He really didn’t want to meet new people.
“I bet it’s good money too,” Seokjin said.
Jungkook glanced up at both of them. “I’ll think about it.”
“They’re coming here at the beginning of May, you have two weeks to think about it,” Yoongi said, nodding towards the paper. “If I were you, I’d call them.”
Jungkook glanced at the note once more before crumpling it into the pocket of his sweatpants. He might make the call.
Now that the boat repairs were looming over his head, he absolutely didn’t have the money for it, but he took a detour to get takeaway Samgyeopsal on his way home. At least his car was working so he didn’t have to bike along the coast anymore, the way he used to do before getting his driver’s licence.
Their village wasn’t on the better side of Busan. Their houses weren’t the colourful kind. But the view to the sea was beautiful and they had a roof over their head that was their own.
Jungkook’s grandfather’s house was at the end of a small road on a hill, overlooking the cliffs and the sea. It was the last good thing they had. A small house and a small garden. His great grandfather had bought the land at a cheap price and built a home for his family. Despite being further away from the village centre, the value of the plot had since gone up exponentially and over the years Jungkook and his grandfather had had to chase several real estate agents with their offers away from their land.
Selling the land would potentially give them a small fortune. The money would make everything easier. But Jungkook’s grandfather always said the city kills your soul and makes you greedy. Jungkook knew well enough who his grandfather was talking about and maybe he agreed. Another, more important, point against selling was that Jungkook’s grandmother’s ashes along with his great grandparents' ashes were kept in the tiny temple in the back of the garden. And he knew his grandfather wished to be placed there as well when the time came.
So as much as it would be good money, Jungkook couldn’t, not now, not in the future. He couldn’t.
When he turned to the driveway he saw a blue Hyundai parked in front of the house. It had become familiar this past year. Jungkook manoeuvred his vehicle so that the Hyundai would have room to leave later.
He shut the engine and gripped the steering wheel, closing his eyes, taking a few steadying breaths — a new habit of his every time he returned home these days. He made sure he took the bag of food, keys and his phone — an old iphone with a cracked and taped screen — and got out of his car.
It was always quiet up here. Only the gentle sound of the distant waves hitting the shore climbed up the hill. Birds singing in the trees and bushes around the house. His grandfather always left them something to eat, Jungkook tried to remember to do the same. The air was dry, but the small breeze caressing Jungkook’s cheeks held the scent of salt and seaweed. He drew it in and began walking towards the door.
After getting inside, he carefully removed his shoes, trying not to make any sound, and walked straight into the kitchen on the right.
He was taking the food containers out of the plastic bag when he heard footsteps.
“Oh, it’s you already.”
Jung Wheein was the nurse who came to help Jungkook with his grandfather. She administered the medication and took his grandfather’s vitals. And monitored his condition. Jungkook’s grandfather wanted to stay home as long as he could, but he and Jungkook both knew there would come a day when he couldn’t and Wheein was here to tell when that day arrived.
She walked up to the kitchen counter with a smile on her face. The smile left her with a dimple on her right cheek.
“Is there enough for me?” She grinned, tilting her head to the side, her long ponytail braid swaying with the movement.
“You wish,” Jungkook said quietly, but for the first time today a little smile was threatening to break free on his lips. She had that effect.
Wheein slapped Jungkook’s arm from across the counter. “Is that the way you talk to your noona? Kids these days.” She shook her head.
“I’m only two years younger than you… noona.” Jungkook sorted through the dishes, lining them up on the countertop. “There’s enough for you.”
“Great! I could kiss you for that, I forgot to take my lunch today.”
“Please don’t.”
A hand came into Jungkook’s view and pinched his cheek.
“You’re such a cutie,” Wheein cooed. “Just lose that constant frown and you’re good to go.”
Jungkook huffed. “How’s he?” he asked, changing the subject.
Wheein’s smile dialled down, getting that sympathetic edge. “He’s taking a nap. I gave him his pain medication earlier.”
“How — “ Jungkook drew in a breath and tried to shake the uncomfortable feeling squiggling inside him. “How long?” He glanced at Wheein’s face.
“Not long. I’d say it might be good for both of you if he came to the hospital.”
“No.” Jungkook shook his head. “He doesn’t want that.”
“It’s not getting any better. It would be easier on you,” Wheein said quietly, leaning against the counter with her elbows — she was short, tiny, and Jungkook had teased her plenty about it.
“Last time the doctor said he might last through the summer,” Jungkook said, trying to swallow down the lump that was attempting to surface.
The doctor had said his grandfather had possibly eight months left. Possibly — hopefully — he would see his grandson’s 26th birthday.
Wheein stared at Jungkook, her eyes searching, lips sealed. Everyone always did that, whenever Jungkook let himself see a tiny glimmer of hope in the horizon. Because there was no hope.
The first tear slid onto Jungkook’s cheek without his permission. He aggressively wiped it to his sleeve and sniffed, swallowing the rest of them down.
Wheein gave him a soft smile and placed her hand over his. “He’ll last the time he’ll last. All we can do is make sure he’s as comfortable as possible. That’s why — “
Jungkook shook his head. “Not yet. Not yet.”
“Okay.” Wheein removed her hand. “But I’ll leave you to think about it. It would take pressure off your back too. You look tired.”
Jungkook breathed deep. “I’m all he has.” He’s all I have.
Jeon Dongseok, Jungkook’s grandfather, woke up from his nap to eat as much as his stomach could handle, which wasn’t much, but at least he was eating. Jungkook carried the food to his grandfather’s bedroom and placed it all on a side table. Dongseok managed to even sit up today, which was good, he had been feeling worse the whole week. He even cracked a joke before he said he had eaten enough.
Wheein was there joking with him. Jungkook sometimes wondered how she did it. How did she manage to hold on to her light and carefree spirit when her main work was palliative care. She was the sun peeking through the dark clouds.
Often she stayed longer than her work shifts stated. As was tonight. The sun was already setting when she finally gathered her things and Jungkook walked her out.
”I almost forgot,” Wheein said and went to grab something from her blue car. She returned to Jungkook with an apologetic smile and an envelope in her hand.
It was the bill for her service. Jungkook took it, already dreading the moment he would see the sum.
”Now, it’s a bit more than last time, because of the increase in his medications.” Wheein said. ”But you know I don’t look that carefully when you pay, you’re one of my favourites anyway.”
Despite the chill Jungkook was feeling, he tried to smile. ”I’ll try to pay by the due date.”
Wheein nodded and squeezed Jungkook’s bicep. ”Alright, but you know I’m not that strict about it.”
”I know.”
Wheein smiled and began walking back to her car. ”Okay, I have to go. I promised my mom I would pick up groceries and we’d eat together.”
”Bye.” Jungkook waved his hand rather awkwardly, feeling a pinch somewhere inside him at Wheein mentioning her mother.
”Bye! See you tomorrow!” Wheein got into her car and backed it away from the driveway.
Soon Jungkook couldn’t hear the sounds of her car anymore and they were alone again. He glanced up at the sky to see clouds beginning to gather.
Once back inside Jungkook opened the envelope. He hated how his hands were trembling, it was just a bill. He folded the paper open and — sat down on the couch.
The amount had almost doubled from last time.
Jungkook let the paper drop to the floor. He leaned his elbows to his knees and hung his head.
It would be fine, he was always fine. No matter what happened he always found a way forward.
Did he feel much anymore? Maybe not. Happiness was a stranger to him.
Numb, he was mostly just numb.
But he always got up to his feet. Always.
Like the time when at five years old he woke up one morning to his grandparents telling him his mother had left him. Or the time when he was bullied at school so badly he had spent his lunch hours in the toilets. Or the time when his grandmother died. Or every other time life had punched him down to the ground.
He always got up.
Always.
But maybe not this time.
Jungkook rubbed his face with his palms. The post-it note he received from Yoongi earlier began burning a hole into his pocket.
He didn’t have qualifications past his middle school diploma. He had started highschool, but never finished it, starting at his grandfather’s fishing boat instead.
The reality was he couldn’t apply to just any job. He knew the sea, he knew the currents, he knew where the different creatures were hiding. He knew how to steer a boat and how to fish.
If the research team needed a pilot, Jungkook could at least try.
He took the bill from the floor and walked towards his room.
”Jungkook-ah.”
Jungkook stopped by his grandfather’s door. Wheein had said he had been ready to sleep for the night, but apparently he was still awake.
”Yes, grandfather?” Jungkook walked into the room. It was dark with the curtains covering the windows.
”How was today’s catch? You didn’t say anything earlier.”
Jungkook felt his muscles tense up. ”It was good, just as always. Not the best ever, but enough.”
He was becoming a natural at lying to his grandfather. The truth was, he hadn’t been able to catch anything in the last two weeks since Sora’s engine began coughing.
His grandfather was luckily too tired to notice. He smiled and reached out his wrinkly hand to Jungkook. Jungkook grabbed it, feeling how cold it was, his grandfather’s skin so thin.
”Good to hear. Good to hear,” Dongseok said. ”And Sora is acting well?”
”She’s a dream,” Jungkook said and couldn’t prevent the sadness in his smile, the way the words almost caught in his throat.
”Good, good.” Dongseok’s eyes were closing.
”Grandfather, do you need anything? Water? Anything?”
The frail hand squeezed Jungkook’s for a moment before letting go.
”I don’t need anything. Just enjoy your night. Don’t worry about me.”
For a moment Jungkook just stood there, by his grandfather’s bed, watching the old man fall asleep. Watching — making sure — that his chest was still moving up and down with his breaths. And before leaving, he made sure his grandfather was well tucked in and warm.
When Jungkook got to his room he closed the door and sat on the side of his bed.
His room wasn’t anything special. It had once belonged to his mother. An old desk in front of the window, a drawer and a small closet for clothes.
The bed was new, or as new as it could be, Jungkook had bought it when he turned eighteen and was full of grand ideas about his future. He had wanted a double bed so he used all his savings for it. But then he realised he wouldn’t be bringing anyone over. Not at least anyone his grandparents would approve. And not that anyone would look at him twice — the poor orphan kid who smells of fish.
It was more comfortable than his mother’s old bed, though.
The last golden rays of the setting sun sieved through the window, hitting Jungkook’s eyes and painting the room in warm orange. He waited for the light to disappear before turning his bedside lamp on and digging out his phone from his pocket.
And the post-it note.
He straightened the small neon yellow paper, smoothed it against his thigh and stared at the number. He didn’t like making phone calls, but he had become better at it during the last year, his grandfather unable to take care of most of the things independently and Jungkook needing to step in.
Carefully, constantly glancing at the number series to get it right, Jungkook dialled the number and lifted the phone to his ear.
It rang once, twice —
“Hello?”
Jungkook cleared his throat, rubbing his palm to his thigh. “Hello, is this Kim Namjoon-ssi?”
“Yes, I am Kim Namjoon.” The man sounded suspicious.
“Min Yoongi gave me your number and told me you might need a pilot for a research boat?” Jungkook grimaced at how stupid he sounded.
“Ah! Yes! Excuse me, I didn’t catch your name.”
Jungkook closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep it together. “Jeon Jungkook.”
“Are you saying you could be our pilot, Jungkook-ssi?”
“I have many years of experience steering a fishing boat.” And I need the money.
There was silence from Namjoon on the other end, some scuttling, the sound of papers. “Can I take your contact information so that we can settle the details later. Also if you could, I would love to have your resume. Is Min Yoongi able to vouch for you? It’s just that we are a research team and that requires —”
“Min Yoongi can vouch for me and I understand. I wouldn’t let just anyone steer my fishing boat either.” Jungkook felt his voice fade at the end. His fishing boat. It wasn’t his, his grandfather was still alive.
“Alright. Good.”
Jungkook gave his home address and an email address that he sometimes used. “You can reach me from this number, that’s possibly the best way.”
Namjoon hummed at the other end. “Perfect. This is honestly good. We were already thinking whether one of us would have to learn how to steer a boat and that would have been a disaster. No one has shown interest in the job before you called.” He let out a laugh.
Jungkook played with the side seam of his pants. “Well, it’s what I do best, boats.”
“Alright. Thank you for offering your services, Jungkook-ssi. I’ll call you later this week then?”
“Yes.”
Namjoon said his formal goodbyes.
Jungkook lowered his phone and sighed. A research boat wasn’t his place, he would stick out like a sore thumb.
***
“This, or this?” Jimin asked, placing one t-shirt in front of his chest, then the other.
“We’re going to be on a boat for most of the time,” Hoseok sighed, lying on his back on Jimin’s bed. “No one’s going to care what you wear.”
“Hobi hyung, the whales or the squids?” Jimin lifted his eyebrows, now holding both of the shirts up from their hangers.
He didn’t care if no one saw what he wore, the most important thing was to be comfortable and satisfied with how he looked no matter what. And as a marine biologist it was fun dressing for the part and showing his passion for the world.
Hoseok lifted his head so that he now actually looked at the shirts for the first time. “The whale of course, but why are you even asking, just pack both.”
Jimin glanced at his already overflowing suitcase laying open on the floor by his bed. Then at his printed t-shirts. He liked them both.
“They’re not going to take that much room.” He threw the hangers to the floor and folded the shirts as small as he could and stuffed them into the last available slot he could find. He now only needed to pack his skincare and other essentials.
Hoseok groaned from the bed and covered his eyes behind his arm.
“What is it?” Jimin asked.
“Why did I agree to go along with this?” Hoseok whined. “Who said it was a good idea for me to step out of the lab? Who? I blame you, Jiminie!”
Jimin let out a giggle. “It won’t be that bad. You’re there with me and Namjoon.” He walked up to the bed and fell next to Hoseok.
“But are you sure I need to learn how to dive?” Hoseok turned his face to the side, towards Jimin.
Jimin grabbed Hoseok’s hand. “It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”
“Easy for you to say, you were made to be on boats and watch whales, I was made to be inside a lab and detect all those itty bitty tiny molecules — “
Jimin burst out laughing, slapping at Hoseok’s chest.
“What?” Hoseok asked, but didn’t look offended with that incredulous smile on his face.
“Your face just now, when you said that bit about your molecules, all scrunched up. You’re cute, hyung.”
Hoseok huffed, but the smile didn’t leave his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but the doorbell ringing stopped him. They both turned their heads towards the bedroom door.
“Go, go, it could be Namjoon, he said he has news for us.” Hoseok kept nudging Jimin off the bed.
Jimin rolled off and ran to the door. The camera beside it showed it was indeed Namjoon. Jimin couldn’t help his wide smile when he pushed the door open. And before Namjoon could do anything or say anything, Jimin was already hugging him.
“Good to see you too, Jimin,” Namjoon said, always a little awkward when Jimin showed his love for his hyung and colleague so freely.
Jimin let go and let Namjoon come in. “Hobi said you have news. Did you find someone for the boat?”
Namjoon smiled, he definitely found someone. Finally.
Namjoon settled on Jimin’s couch while Jimin walked into the kitchen that was technically part of his small living room. Hoseok came out of Jimin’s bedroom and joined Namjoon.
“Do you guys want something to drink?” Jimin asked, already looking through his fridge.
“I’m good.”
“Sure.”
Jimin returned with two beers and sat on his only arm chair, facing his hyungs. “So, tell us,” he said to Namjoon, raising his bottle to clink it with the one Namjoon took.
“I found us a pilot,” Namjoon said after taking a sip.
“Good, because I wouldn’t have volunteered,” Hoseok said.
Jimin smiled at his aversion to the whole research trip. It was true that Hoseok was scared of basically anything in the animal kingdom that weren’t dogs or cats, yet he wanted to come with them to sample the water himself. He had told Jimin that he wanted to challenge himself, to expose himself to life a little bit. Also Jimin knew Hoseok would be miserable for the three months alone in the city without Jimin or Namjoon to keep him company.
“Who is the person, what are they like?” Jimin asked.
Namjoon took out his phone and scrolled. He then showed an email to Jimin and then to Hoseok. “Jeon Jungkook, 25 years old, a fisherman, has been working on a boat since he was fifteen.”
“Hmm,” Hoseok hummed. “That’s a long time and so young. He should be familiar with the mechanics then. Can I trust to be safe with the boat in his hands?”
“Min Yoongi, our scuba gear provider, only had good things to say about him. He’s young, but trustworthy, good with boats, as expected,” Namjoon said.
“Do you have a photo of him?” Jimin asked and got thrown at with a pillow by Hoseok. “What?”
“You hear his age and that he’s a fisherman, which probably means he’s fit, and you’re already forming romantic fantasies in your head,” Hoseok laughed. “Romantic or horny, which one is it?”
“Neither!” Jimin nearly shouted, already feeling his cheeks heat up. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
Alright, maybe Jimin was a little guilty for being curious, because his curiosity came simply from the wish to know what the young man looked like. Was it a crime to hope for some eye candy while being out at sea? He loved his whales, but sometimes the nights could get boring and if he had a visual —
Another pillow hit Jimin’s face.
“What now?”
“You need to get laid before we go.”
Jimin sputtered at Hoseok’s comment. “I do not!”
Hoseok turned towards Namjoon. “It’s the horny kind,” he said with a serious face.
Jimin threw both of the pillows back to Hoseok, hearing Namjoon sigh from the middle.
“I don’t have a photo,” Namjoon said.
“I don’t really need one,” Jimin quickly said. “Not for what he was insinuating.” He pointed at Hoseok.
“I wasn’t insinuating anything, I just read your face,” Hoseok said with a challenging look.
Jimin lifted his hands to cover his cheeks. “I’ve changed my mind, can we leave Hobi in Seoul?”
“No, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, Jiminie.” Hoseok stood up from the couch and walked up to Jimin and settled on his lap sideways, squeezing Jimin tight in his hold, maybe a bit too tight.
“We should go over the list for what equipment we need to pack with us from the biology department,” Namjoon said, unfazed by the antics of his friends. “Some of the bigger equipment we’ll be getting from Busan, but we still need to take things with us from here.”
Namjoon was always thorough. He had to be or else he would forget something. Jimin listened to him list off all the equipment from microscopes to smaller apparatus like pipettes and sample bottles. They would get the hydrophones and recording devices as well as the required sonars and possible tagging devices from Busan, because the research was a combined effort and it would be too much to carry their own all the way from Seoul to the little village they were heading to.
Jimin felt excited, it buzzed under his skin. Last time he had been on a research boat was almost a year ago in Australia when he got the chance to join a crew that studied humpback whale migration routes. He had been collecting the last pieces of material for his doctorate research on whale communication.
Their own study was more of an audit of the species they could find, counting them, analysing the water quality and detecting possible effects of climate change. But it was an important audit, because it would determine what direction their future research would take and what kind of conservation measures they could suggest to the government. It wasn’t entirely Jimin’s area of expertise, but he wished he could make observations on the marine mammals in the Korea Strait and maybe get an article or two out of it.
And the best thing was, he could spend a whole three months with two of his dearest friends.