Chapter Text
Yeosang wasn't weak. Call him anything else, but never that. He prided himself on his resilience, on keeping his vulnerabilities hidden where no one could exploit them. This unyielding mindset often landed him in trouble, like tonight. Everything about tonight was fast-paced, Yeosang wasn’t able to stop anything even if he had tried.
"Stop, he looks dead," a voice remarked as Yeosang's hands, feebly protecting his head, slowly dropped. Consciousness slipped away with each passing minute. The man standing over him scoffed but heeded his friend's warning, stepping back.
"Maybe that'll fix that mouth of his. Can't even fight," the man spat, kicking Yeosang's legs one last time. Yeosang didn’t flinch, didn’t utter a sound. He lay there like a lifeless doll, accustomed to such beatings. Working nights as a dancer and days in retail, some clients simply refused to take no for an answer.
He couldn’t afford to lose his job over a street fight. It had happened before, and he was determined it wouldn’t happen again. But this time felt different. Something important had been damaged. He felt like he was floating as if he was leaving his own body. His vision blurred, the street dissolving into a hazy tableau of fleeing footsteps and muddied shoes.
When Yeosang awoke, he knew something was wrong. The pain was gone, yet his clothes still bore the marks of the assault. The surrounding brightness was startling—far too bright for the gray, sunless place he called home. The alleyway had transformed into pristine cobblestones, so clean it felt wrong to stand on them. This had to be a dream.
Suddenly, a man knocked into him, sending him sprawling. As he fell, a metal object clanged nearby. Yeosang’s eyes locked onto a golden ball adorned with strange carvings, rolling towards him. The man who dropped it, clad in black, continued running.
"Wait! Sir!" Yeosang called, his voice a dry, painful rasp. The man stopped and turned, his eyes piercing and intimidating. Yeosang held up the item, trying to stand. "You dropped this," he said, noticing the man’s panicked demeanor. Was he a thief?
The man hurried back, retrieving the item and stashing it in a black pouch around his waist. Up close, he smelled of lavender, a scent that inexplicably calmed Yeosang. With a nod that suggested a hidden smile, the man turned and fled. Just as quickly as the calm sensation had arrived it left, following the mysterious man.
Yeosang exhaled, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn’t home. It looked like a different country altogether. The colorful buildings were smaller than the downtown skyscrapers he knew. As he tried to orient himself, a foul stench filled the air. It smelled like…a burning orange?
He recoiled, covering his nose, and spotted a smirking man approaching him. He was also wearing all black, but his face was well-seen. Gray streaked his groomed hair, age obvious within his forehead. His exposed arms held multiple tattoos and scars, painful ones. "Well, what is an omega doing alone? Do you not have a mate?" the man asked, advancing slowly.
Yeosang frowned, backing away. Omega? Mate? What was this guy talking about? "What are you—" He began, but a sharp pain in his arm cut him off. He gasped, recoiling from the needle that had pierced his skin. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and he collapsed, caught by a random hand.
Then there was nothing.
“Captain!” Seonghwa called, rushing into the room. They were right where he had left them, a private room at the back of a market. The smells that filled the building were atrocious, the distressed scents from the people outside just couldn’t be concealed. Six faces looked back at him, but he focused on the pink-haired man who met his eyes. Seonghwa smiled, holding his bag out. “I got it, sir.”
Hongjoong’s face pulled into a smile, the man stood up from his chair to greet him. He quickly closed the distance between them, pulling Seonghwa into a small hug. “Of course you did, good job,” Hongjoong whispered his praise, loud enough for Seonghwa to hear before pulling away. “Any problems?”
Seonghwa shook his head, reaching into the bag to retrieve the item. The gold gleamed even in the bag's darkness, drawing the other boys to curiously crowd around. “I made a mistake, it fell out of my bag. A nice omega gave it back to me. I guess he didn’t know how much it cost or didn’t care.” Seonghwa wasn’t one to lie.
Hongjoong frowned, holding the orb up with one hand. “Huh. I thought everyone in this area knew the worth of these, they’re handmade after all. Hell, we are buying a person for just one of these,” He scoffed, handing it back to Seonghwa who instantly tucked it away again. “It’s ridiculous if you think about it.”
“Good thing we don’t get paid for thinking,” Mingi mumbled, walking back to his seat now that there was nothing to see. Hongjoong rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders.
“You’re right, we get paid for many other things. Are you ready?” His question was directed to all of them, but his eyes were trained on Seonghwa. Seonghwa swallowed but nodded quickly. He hated this part. For years the two of them had visited markets.
Markets were a legal form of human trafficking. Unmated betas and omegas were sold, without their consent. The government did nothing to stop them, and since no laws protected the omegas and betas from it, the markets continued to operate. Most of the people being sold were drugged out of their minds, too high even fully to understand what was happening until they were already sold. Then it was too late.
Seonghwa had one job, find someone. He had done it three times already, finding Wooyoung, San, and Yunho within the markets. Every once in a while Hongjoong got an itch as he calls it. A hunch, that they’re needed. Every time Seonghwa marched into the market, and every time he had picked someone for them to take back. So yes, he was ready. He was also nervous. Nervous as hell.
With his go-ahead the crew instantly made moves to leave the room. Thank god, Seonghwa was about to throw up. His nose had always been more sensitive than others.
It only took a second for their exit before a smaller alpha noticed, blowing the whistle tied around his neck. The room was instantly quiet, all conscious eyes landing on the pack. Hongjoong’s head twisted in their direction in amusement, his signature smile rising. Seonghwa resisted the urge to roll his eyes, too many people were watching them. Their captain always found attention amusing, but it was inevitable.
Hongjoong was the richest pirate on the seas. Besides having respect for those who valued wealth, different populations knew him for a multitude of reasons. The poor knew him as a saint, regularly helping small communities. Politicians knew him as a chess piece, a political figure to sway the public. Criminals knew him by how he started, as an assassin. It was also known that his crew bond was one of the strongest, Hongjoong never having a member leave after pledging their allegiance. The invites were exclusive as well, the entire crew had to agree on a person joining.
So all eyes were on them, and it made Seonghwa want to crawl in his skin. His mask was still over his face, but it barely protected his nose from the foul scents flooding the room. His eyes quickly began searching, scanning the countless bodies that were sitting or lying patiently. For the first time most were awake, watching him cautiously. Seonghwa knew besides the captain he looked the most intimidating, not showing anything but his eyes while the rest of the crew were perfectly visible. He liked it; he was easy to read without it.
Seonghwa moved carefully, the others trailing behind him. He weaved through the room, trying to sense a pull. He always felt it, a tug on his heart when he found a good person. Like a magnet, like fate. That’s why he never tried to know someone fully, he never asked questions.
Seonghwa stopped in his tracks, straightening his back. He turned, glancing at a hunched-over figure he had just passed. For a moment, just a second, he had smelled different. Unlike the soured scents of those around him, he was refreshed.
Hongjoong got the hint, making room for Seonghwa to move towards the boy. Seonghwa slowly approached, not wanting to scare him. A white T-shirt, long but dirty. What appeared to be dust marks and dirt from shoes were imprinted on the shirt, and the bottom of the item pulled up slightly from the boy holding his knees to his chest. He was wearing biker shorts, the tight material clinging to his fair skin. It was the same outfit.
The boy who had helped him so quickly in the alleyway had gotten captured the moment he left him. Seonghwa felt his heart twist, a twinge of anger rushing through his veins. Hongjoong reached forward, placing a firm hand against his shoulder. It made Seonghwa stop and breathe. He couldn’t get angry here.
The boy lifted his head after noticing the multiple pairs of feet in front of him. Seonghwa watched him, alarmed. He knew the process these men had. They drugged their victims and used force to scare them into submitting. Despite this, the brunette stared back at him with unwavering attention. He showed no signs of being drugged as if it had already worn off. Whereas most omegas would drop their gaze out of fear, he didn’t. Seonghwa kneeled, leaning in. He could see the boy inhale, likely smelling the lavender coming off his body.
Jasmine and Rose. He smelled heavenly, a light flowery smell leaving his body. He didn’t smell scared, distressed, not even sad. If Seonghwa didn’t know any better, he would even think the omega was happy. His face said otherwise, a blank expression over his face. Yet, he was curious.
Seonghwa stood back up, flexing his hand twice. Hongjoong smiled, gesturing for the small alpha from earlier to join them. He scurried to do so, glancing at the newest addition in confusion.
“This one,” Hongjoong held out his hand, and Seonghwa easily transferred the gold item. The alpha’s eyes widened, greedily taking the orb before the captain could change his mind. Not that he would. Quickly two other alphas untied the boy from the floor, stepping back.
He looked up, but he didn’t move. This time he wasn’t watching Seonghwa, he was looking directly at Hongjoong. Hongjoong also found him peculiar and enjoyed the way he held his eye contact.
“What is your name?” Hongjoong asked, holding his hand out. The boy looked at it as if debating if he could trust the other enough to take it. After a beat he slowly linked their hands, using him to stand up. His legs were shaking, the only sign he had been drugged at all.
“Yeosang,” He answered. His voice was deep, contrasting his beautiful appearance. Seonghwa stared at his skin, seeing the most beautiful birthmark beside his eye. He was gorgeous.
Hongjoong nodded, glancing behind him. Jongho stepped up, his scent perking up. Seonghwa would have laughed if they weren’t in public. His usual dull scent was excited as if the sight of Yeosang had woke him up. The boy’s nose twitched, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Well, Yeosang. Are you alright with Jongho helping you outside?”
Yeosang tried to take another step, sighing when his legs only bent awkwardly to keep him up. “…Okay.”
Jongho smiled, taking a step forward before easily sweeping the omega up into his arms. Yeosang’s eyes widened, instantly linking his arms around Jongho’s neck for stability. Hongjoong glanced at the owner, not saying anything further before leading their crew out the door.
Yeosang was still convinced he was dreaming. Had he been kidnapped and dumped in a foreign country? No. They still spoke his language, that couldn’t be possible. Everything was so overwhelming. When he woke it was obvious he shocked the person tying his feet to the floor, but he didn’t need to speed up. Yeosang would not fight, not when he couldn’t feel his legs and he had no clue where he was.
The smell. The smell alone made his head hurt. Yeosang was never one affected by bad smells, he worked in a strip club for god’s sake. It smelled like alcohol and sweat every night there. Now though he could smell every little thing in the crowded room, every single person. They smelled awful.
Everyone was talking far too loudly, and people were walking around Yeosang as if he was art on display. He hid his face, drawing his knees to his chest. He would have been perfectly content like this too, when suddenly the room was quiet. Curiosity killed the cat. Yeosang didn’t look up, he didn’t want to know what the whistle meant.
Then a pair of shoes were at his feet. Black ones, shiny. Lavender.
Yeosang looked up slowly, shocked to see the man from before standing in front of him. Had he been right? If he was in some weird kidnapping ring was this guy involved? He couldn’t take his eyes off of him, the mysterious man captivated him. Then they were talking to him, and a man with a smooth voice distracted his attention.
Well. He was also beautiful. Yeosang knew criminals could be beautiful, but why were they all pretty? He felt out of place, his dirtied clothes and ruffled appearance were vastly different.
He stared at the hand held out to him. It felt like making a deal with the devil, acceptance. What else was he meant to do though? He had nowhere to go; he had questions no one but the men in front of him seemed to answer. It wasn’t like where he had been before was great. So he took his hand.
“Are you alright with Jongho helping you outside?” The stranger confused him. He looked past him, noticing a strongly built man step up. Yeosang felt an urge to leap into his arms, the smell of a cafe trailing off his skin. Seriously, what was happening to him?
He tried to deny the help. He could walk on his own. Yeosang took a small step forward, mentally cursing when his knees almost buckled. With a small sigh, he resigned, looking back up. This new stranger seemed to be friendly, or at least eager to help.
“…Okay,” He agreed, watching as the man eagerly moved forward. His voice was still shaky, dry almost. Yeosang reacted a little, hurrying to hold onto the man’s shoulders as he was lifted into his arms as if he were air.
They all began moving. This was the time Yeosang should have been looking around, should have been trying to map out where he was and what was happening. He did none of that, instead; he nestled into the man’s shoulder, feeling comforted by the coffee smell he seemed to have. Yeosang did not know where it was coming from, it was too authentic to be cologne. He honestly didn’t care, he felt his muscles relaxing the more he stayed in this position.
Just this once. He would relax just this once, let himself enjoy being carried. Even if it was a front, even if these were bad people with bad intentions. He would let himself enjoy the feeling for just this moment. No matter what happened he would be prepared to protect himself after all. Yeosang wasn’t weak.