Chapter Text
It’s dark. The air reeks of too many things at once, and the cold, sticky floor is probably the source of most of them.
Things Mingi didn’t even want to identify—and yet he had woken up on that very same floor.
His head feels like a wrecking ball had hit it. He touches his temples, only to realise that whatever he’d just smeared there had been on the floor moments before.
“Ew! Ew, EW, EW!”
He tries to wipe off whatever is on his forehead with his sleeve, but only succeeds in spreading it further. Now it’s on his cheeks too.
“Ah, ew, no, nonono, why is this happening to me right now? What is this place? I need a bath. Ew. EW!” he whines.
“SHUT UP!”
The answer comes from the other side of the door, followed by a loud bang against the metal.
“Excuse me?!” Mingi shoots back—and immediately regrets it when his head throbs even harder.
“Ah—” He grabs his forehead again and realises he’s smeared even more of the mysterious substance onto his skin. “Shit!” he curses. “I mean… I really hope it’s not shit. Ugh…”
He feels miserable now, but he tries again.
“Excuse me? Can I at least get some light? Maybe some water and a clean towel? Please?”
The person outside the door clearly doesn’t have any of those things. Or just doesn’t care enough to provide them. Probably the latter.
“I said—” The peephole on the door snaps open. “SHUT. UP.”
It slams shut again.
“Okay, I guess you don’t meet high-ups very often, because that is NOT HOW YOU TREAT THE HEIR OF THE EMPIRE!” Mingi finishes the sentence at full volume.
The only answer he receives is two heavy bangs against the door.
And then—
From the far corner of the cell, he hears a low, deep, very familiar groan.
“Mmmh… where am I…?”
“Yeosang?”
“Mingi?!”
Silence.
“What is this place? Where are we? Ew—what is this?!”
Yeosang has clearly noticed the disgusting floor and its contents.
“I guess it’s too late to tell you that you should not touch the floor. Mingi starts, “I wish I could tell you, but they don’t really seem interested in talking to me. But it’s clearly not the club.”
“You’re a genius,” Yeosang mutters. “Of course it’s not the club—the club I didn’t even want to go to in the first place, but you just had to sneak out and whore around again.”
Mingi can hear the reproach in Yeosang’s voice. He’s fairly certain Yeosang rolls his eyes, too. Probably makes some dramatic hand gestures in the dark as well.
“They had a buy-one-get-three on spirits…” Mingi tries to defend himself, but Yeosang cuts him off.
“Since when do you care about discounts, Mingi?!” Yeosang snaps. “You’re a fucking prince. Your father owns half the galaxy! You don't have to pay for anything! You don't even have the device to do that—we're not linked to Horizon!”
“You’re saying that like you’re not from the same family!” Mingi shoots back. “I just tried to have fun. Like a normal person. Is that so bad?”
He pouts—even though Yeosang probably can’t see it in the dark.
“Besides, I was not the one who was drinking from that guy’s mouth—”
“ALRIGHT. That’s enough!” Yeosang interrupts again. “Let’s just figure out where we are and how we get—”
The spaceship suddenly jerks as it docks, slamming both of them into the wall.
“—out of here,” Yeosang finishes. “God. What a terrible pilot.”
They both stand up in the dark and move closer to each other.
The heavy cell door finally opens. The dim, flickering lights outside are almost blinding after the darkness. Then three grim-looking men stand in the door, blocking the light.
“Move!” one of the men at the door yells.
The other two step in, tie their hands, and shove them out.
Just like their cell, the rest of the spaceship isn't in good condition either. The corridors are narrow, and the walls are covered in rust. The lights flicker. Half of them don’t even work. Torn cables hang from the ceiling, sparking sporadically.
✩
When they’re pushed outside, the air hits them immediately. It’s hot, humid and smells like metal and engine coolant.
There are barely any lights, only a few maintenance lamps showing the way off the docks, yet the planet is alive. People move constantly, loading cargo with or without the help of machines.
Beyond the docks, an unusual-looking market stretches out: various beings stand behind empty stalls. What they’re selling remains a mystery to curious eyes.
It looks like a smuggler planet—the kind Mingi and Yeosang have only seen in history books before.
The three men force the princes down an alley that is even darker than the docks. The ground is uneven, metal planks are covering the bigger potholes.
At the end of the alley, they stop in front of what looks like the worst dive bar they’ve ever seen.
✩
To be fair, Mingi and Yeosang have never seen a dive bar before. Princes have no reason to go to places like that.
The most disreputable locale they’ve ever been to is the aforementioned club they occasionally sneak out to from the palace, just to catch a glimpse of how normal people spend their free time.
Mingi would give his left arm for an ordinary life. He hates being the heir to the throne—the rules, the ceremonies, and the absurd idea that royals should stay far away from the people they rule.
Yeosang, whose father owns the other half of the galaxy, feels the same. He’s just more grounded, more willing to accept his fate. That doesn’t mean he’s always against the younger one’s ideas—he just makes sure Mingi hears about it when they inevitably blow up in their faces.
✩
The bar looks like it has seen better days. It smells eerily similar to their cell, and it’s packed with life forms who look like they’re just waiting for an excuse to start a fight.
The five of them sit down in a booth close to the back door. Curious eyes follow them all the way.
Being tied up might not be unusual here, but the two princes’ red outfits and blond hair don’t exactly help them blend in.
The three men start talking.
“And now?”
“Now, we wait. They're gonna show up eventually.”
“Do you know what they look like?”
“I’ll know when I see them.”
Yeosang snorts. A loud “hah” leaves his mouth—and one of the men punches him so hard he falls out of the booth.
He hits the floor, his face is already bruising from the punch and the impact.
Mingi exclaims and tries to get up, but he’s stuck between the other two. One of them grabs him and slams his head against the table.
The skin on his nose splits instantly.
“How many times do we have to tell you both to shut up?!” the man growls. “I swear, royals are the worst—so full of themselves. We will teach you brats how to behave.”
All three laugh as the man who hit Yeosang yanks him up from the floor by his hair.
Tears pool in his eyes, pain shows on his face, but he bears it without a word.
The other grabs Mingi’s braids and forces him to sit straight. Mingi never stayed quiet when they felt mistreated. He should’ve done it this time.
“Stop hurting him and get your filthy hands off me!” he hisses.
His reward is the opposite; fingers tightening around his neck.
His vision begins to blur when a voice cuts through the thugs’ laughter:
“Let them go!”
Two men, around the same age as the princes, slowly rise from the nearest booth.
One of them is tall—slightly taller than Mingi.
He’s dressed entirely in black. Leather pants secured with a belt, large utility pockets attached. A black turtleneck, and over it, a leather harness vest with metal buckles and a hood.
With his broad shoulders and almost indecently narrow waist, his build is both commanding and strangely reassuring at the same time.
He pushes the hood back with an easy movement, and Mingi notices his hands. They’re the most beautiful hands he has ever seen—large, veiny, long fingers.
And he’s handsome.
Oh. Very much so.
Mingi gulps, his gaze bouncing from the stranger’s face to his hands, to his chest, and back again, completely unable to decide what part of him is the most unfair.
He should probably pay attention to the situation, but he can’t stop staring.
The other man is shorter, but clearly muscular—strong in a way that doesn’t need proving. His powerful build is visible even beneath the unnecessary number of layers he’s wearing.
He wears a weathered jacket above everything. Grey-brown, almost worn at the seams, with reinforced black panels along the sleeves.
He looks steady.
He feels threatening if you stare too long.
His gaze sweeps the room once, calm and sharp.
And he’s handsome as well.
They both have fresh scars and bruises on their faces.
“Get lost, kids. It’s none of your business!”
“You think so?” the taller one asks as they step closer. “My boss will be disappointed if you keep ruining their pretty faces,” he adds with a smirk.
“You’re his men?” one of the thugs asks, clearly surprised.
“I didn’t know he hired kids, too!” the other says, and all three burst out laughing.
“And? Kidnappers’ codex forbids you to accept money from kids?” the tall one shoots back with a cheeky smile. He waves his hand, and a small light flickers beneath the skin of his wrist.
“Whatever, kid. Just give us the money, then you can have these brats.” The apparent leader of the thugs stands and steps up to the tall man.
They lock eyes, clasp each other’s forearms, and the chips in their wrists flash green.
A few seconds later, the princes are shoved towards them, and they seem to resign themselves to their fates.
“Well, gentlemen, it was a pleasure.” The tall man taps two fingers against his temple in a mock salute and grabs Mingi’s bound wrists.
The shorter one does the same with Yeosang, and the four of them head toward the back door.
“Now, walk fast, princess,” the tall one murmurs to Mingi. “We have three more minutes before they realise it was a fake transaction.”
✩
As soon as they step out of the bar and the door closes behind them, the two men untie them and start running.
Mingi and Yeosang know they shouldn’t follow them, but they don’t really have a choice.
They reach the docks, and the two men run into a ship, its ramp already lowered by the time they arrive. Mingi and Yeosang hesitate.
“It’ll be worse if you stay here!” the shorter one shouts, speaking for the first time since they met.
Mingi and Yeosang exchange a look, then run up the ramp as well.
The hatch hasn’t even fully closed before they’re airborne, and the ship quickly leaves the smuggler planet behind.
Silence settles over the ship as the hatch fully seals, broken only by their heavy breathing.
✩
The spaceship isn’t very large, but it looks well-maintained and equipped with everything that two people—probably living here—might need.
As Mingi and Yeosang walk down the main corridor, they spot a common room, two sleeping quarters, and something that vaguely resembles a kitchen.
They noticed that the ship's lights were quite unusual. When they got in, the lights were red; now they’re green. Mingi was wondering whether that has a purpose, or if the ship's owners are just fond of colour-changing lights.
They make their way toward the control room when the two men step in front of them, arms crossed.
“There’s something on your face,” the shorter one begins, then leans in to sniff them. “And it stinks.”
“What a sharp observation…” Yeosang replies, rolling his eyes.
“We look quite miserable. Before anything else, could we freshen up somewhere? We’re in space—it’s not like any of us can jump out of the ship anyway,” Mingi asks.
“I’m afraid freshening up won’t be enough,” the tall one answers. “But you can use our rooms to take a proper shower. There are medical kits as well, and the ship has a replicator connected to every room. Sometimes she gets a little sassy, but feel free to use it.”
“Thanks!” Mingi says, genuinely grateful for the offer. He grabs Yeosang’s hand and heads toward the sleeping quarters.
“By the way, I’m Yunho. And Mr. Nonchalant here is Jongho,” the tall man introduces himself.
“I’m Mingi. And Nonchalant Number Two is Yeosang,” Mingi replies with a smile over his shoulder as they step into the quarters.
✩
“What the hell, Yunho, why did you tell them our names?!”
Jongho smacks him on the back of the head, and Yunho flinches. “That wasn’t part of your grandiose plan!”
“I’m sorry, it just… it felt right.” Yunho shrugs. “They would’ve asked for it soon anyway. They seem nice.”
“That doesn’t mean their families won’t put our heads on pikes!”
“I’m not sure that’s still a thing… and why would they? We saved them!”
“Yeah, I still don't know why. But we’re smugglers, Yunho—in case you forgot! Not friendly merchants trading silk and whatever else their kind buys!”
“Sometimes we do that…”
“As a disguise!”
Jongho sighs and facepalms. “Look, they seem fine, but we mustn’t forget that they’re royals, and we’re not. Our worlds don’t usually collide.”
“Would be nice, though…” Yunho mumbles.
“Jeong Yunho, you’re the galaxy’s best smuggler after Hongjoong, yet you are so naive! I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear what you said. We should shower too, after that fight with those Berzerians.” He touches one of his wounds, checking if it's still bleeding. “They took your room, you can use mine.”
“Choi Jongho is letting me into his room? To what do I owe this honour?” Yunho teases.
“Shut it.” Jongho nudges his shoulder, and they head to his room.
✩
Inside Yunho’s room, Mingi waited patiently for Yeosang to finish in the bathroom. He didn’t dare sit on any of the furniture. Not that Yunho’s room was spotless, but he didn’t want to dirty anything with whatever was on his clothes.
As he waits, he wanders around the quarter. A few display shelves were built into the walls, and it quickly became clear that Yunho loved collecting unusual things. Nothing freaky, but they looked like they had been gathered from all across the galaxy, maybe even beyond.
Among the various kinds of vintage weapons, he notices two small metal boxes in one of the displays; one is red and white and could easily fit in his hands, but the other is much smaller. Both boxes have letters on them, but Mingi can’t recognise them. He picks up the smaller one. Its surface is cold, smooth and shiny, almost mirror-like. Looking at it more closely, he notices a thin line and a tiny hinge around the upper third, and he manages to open it with a single flick.
“I know what that is!” Yeosang rushes over to him, one towel around his waist, the other in his hand, his hair still damp. “I’ve read about it. It’s called a lighter! It can make fire—if there’s fuel in it!” His eyes sparkle as he stares at the little trinket. “And that,” he says, picking up the bigger box, “is a cigarette case. People on Earth used to keep cigarettes in it. They were made with paper and a plant called tobacco. They lit one end on fire and then inhaled the smoke into their lungs.”
“They inhaled smoke? On purpose? Why would they do that?” Mingi wonders.
“Something about helping them relax,” Yeosang replies. “But yeah, it wasn’t healthy.”
✩
After Mingi finished in the bathroom as well, they used the replicator to change their clothes.
Mingi chose baggy cargo pants and a tank top, layering a long coat over them. He kept the silver threads in his braids and even asked the replicator for some new accessories—though he wasn’t entirely sure they were necessary for this occasion.
Yeosang opted for mid-calf boots and leather pants, pairing them with an asymmetrical crop top and a hooded cardigan with an uneven hem. He kept his lip piercing.
“Yeosang, who are you trying to seduce?” Mingi asks, peering over the lenses of his newly acquired glasses.
“No one.” Yeosang suddenly finds it extremely important to examine his gloves closely. “I just want to stay fashionable, even if we’re clearly falling from one abduction to another,” he tries to defend himself, but his pink cheeks betray him.
“Sure.” Mingi clearly doesn’t believe that. “But they don’t seem like kidnappers to me, and Yunho said it was a fake transaction before we left the bar.”
“Song Mingi, you’re hopeless. You see a tall puppy and immediately believe everything he says,” Yeosang scoffs.
“I’m not the one who dressed like a hoe for that walking wall!” Mingi shoots back.
✩
After they were done, they headed to the common room. The other two were already there, sitting on the sofa. They looked fresh, and their bruises were somewhat healed. Their outfit remained the same.
As the princes approached, Yunho and Jongho couldn’t help but check them.
“I see she wasn’t in a sassy mood this time. You look good! Did you find everything you needed?” Yunho smiled, eyes sparkling.
“Yes, thank you for offering us your room,” Mingi reciprocates Yunho’s smile. “It was very much needed.”
The ship’s lights shift to a soft pink.
“What’s with the lights?” Yeosang asks. “I noticed they keep changing. Are you into lighting or something?”
“It’s the ship,” Jongho answers. “She can sense the mood on board and adjust accordingly. She can also alert us to danger, or if we’re close to our destination—she does all sorts of things by herself. She even managed to connect to Horizon!”
Jongho pauses, lets out the sweetest giggle, then he continues.“But she hates one of our friends. No matter how hard he tries, she never does what he wants.”
“That’s really cool,” Mingi is impressed—and a little envious. Even a spaceship can join the neural link called Horizon, but not him. As a member of the royal family, he’s forbidden from connecting to it. His brain and body are supposed to remain pure. Free from any augmentation.
“But that doesn’t seem like common technology.” He frowns.
“Indeed. Our captain has a passion for collecting ships from all around the cluster,” Yunho explains.
“And who exactly is your boss?” Yeosang raises an eyebrow.
“What was the name of the planet we fled?” Mingi adds.
“Where did you meet those thugs who kidnapped us?” Yeosang continues.
“What was that fake transaction?“ Mingi presses.
“And where are we going now?” Yeosang leans back, crosses his arms and legs.
“Ah. Right. We didn’t really have time to explain ourselves,” Yunho begins, scratching the back of his neck. “So—”
“How did you end up in that bar?” Jongho interrupts.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Yeosang teases.
“We don’t know it either,” Mingi rolls his eyes at Yeosang. “We only remember being in a club back on Catorce. Then we woke up on their ship.”
“We were probably drugged,” Yeosang continues. “Our heads hurt like hell, and the meds in your kits didn’t help.”
“Catorce?” Yunho frowns. “That’s quite far from the planet where we met.”
“And we weren't planning to save you at all, but this idiot insisted on it,” Jongho adds.
“Well, it was a good opportunity to test the fake transaction mod on our payment chip,” Yunho explains. “And it worked well!”
“Yeah, yeah, applause and ovation to you and Wooyoung for that!” Jongho rolls his eyes.
“Sorry for being proud of our work, which saved two people's lives!“ Yunho sulks.
“We're grateful for that,” Mingi reassures.
“But we still don't know what's going to happen next,” Yeosang finishes his sentence.
“Honestly, my plan was just to save you from those thugs. We figured they were planning to sell you for good money to some other thugs, who were probably planning to blackmail your families—or worse…” Yunho scratches the back of his neck again.
Those hands…Why is that so hot? Why is he so hot? Mingi tries to hide his thoughts—clearly fails, feeling heat climbing to his ears.
A long pause stretches between the four, followed by awkward eye contact, before Yeosang breaks the silence.
“So…? Are you planning to blackmail our fathers instead of those trolls?”
“They weren’t trolls…” Jongho grimaces.
Yeosang grimaces back.
“Why are you two the same?!” Yunho chuckles. “No, we won’t sell you to anyone. Captain’s orders. We never trade anything living. That’s just cruel.” He finishes with a serious expression.
Mingi’s heart skips a beat. Could he be any more perfect?
“Ethical pirates, huh?” Yeosang teases.
Suddenly, Jongho springs to his feet, his expression like he’s just had an epiphany. His eyes widen as he looks at the princes.
“No way…” he starts. “We heard them say you were royals, but there’s no way you’re—”
Yunho frowns, clearly not putting the pieces together.
“Are you Prince Mingi and Prince Yeosang? The heirs of the galaxy?” Jongho looks like he can’t believe his own words.
“Um… yeah,” Mingi admits. “But that’s not really important right now, we…”
“That’s actually very important, Your Royal Highnesses,” Yunho says carefully. “Because that means we’re in quite a bit of trouble.”
As Yunho utters the last word, the ship’s lights flare crimson, flashing violently.
“Shit!” Yunho springs to his feet, too. “Everyone, to the control room, now!”
“What’s happening?” Mingi asks, puzzled, as they run toward the front of the ship.
“Your kidnappers found us,” Yunho says, sliding into the pilot’s seat while Jongho does the same in the co-pilot seat. “Fasten your seatbelt, Princess—it’s gonna be a rough ride!”
Princess. This nickname again. Nobody ever calls Mingi that, but from Yunho’s mouth… it might be the hottest thing he’s ever imagined.
Unfortunately, this is definitely not the right time to have feelings for a pirate.
Not that there's a right time to have feelings for a pirate at all.
✩