Hongjoong dreamt of Seonghwa.

In his dream, Seonghwa didn't recognise him. They visited San's flat again, Seonghwa's unexpected presence there a lasting reminder in Hongjoong's mind.

The dream was scary because this time; they were alone. Despite the horribly awkward fumbling, Hongjoong let his dream play out, not intervening. He could easily save this dream and turn it into something more fun since he held the reins to his own subconscious. Yet, he let it develop naturally. His curiosity about where it would take him was too big.

The association that Seonghwa had of Hongjoong and pirates followed even Hongjoong into his dreams. The second that dream-Seonghwa stepped through the door of San's flat that Hongjoong boldly claimed as his own that night, he chuckled.

"Ah, the pirate's lair. The captain's quarters, if I'm not mistaken?"

Hongjoong had received him from where he stood behind the kitchen aisle. It was the golden rule, at least one aisle of space between him and Seonghwa.

"Am I the captain?"

Ever so domestic, Seonghwa crossed the room to sit on the couch. His posture was straight and orderly. The type of posture that old ladies would admire their sons-in-law to have.

Hongjoong shook the thought off and got them something to drink. Inwardly, the watching version of himself had to scoff at his dream self's anxiousness. His hands trembled when he picked out a cup for Seonghwa. The one with the cuddling snow leopards on it.

He hadn't been that bad the day they met awake, right?

"I know no other pirate. That makes you the first and the captain," Seonghwa chuckled. He leaned back on the couch, his gaze wandering through the room. Neither the wall made of toast nor the pair of skiers that Hongjoong used to stir his hot chocolate were odd to him.

"That's a good deduction. But pirates are mean."

Hongjoong brought their mugs over, careful not to spill anything. Just as gingerly, Seonghwa took his mug from him with a whispered thanks.

"I only know nice pirates." Seonghwa sipped on his chocolate. His gentle eyes watched Hongjoong over the rim.

"I'm the only pirate you know, you just said that," Hongjoong grumbled into his own mug. That honeyed tone in Seonghwa's voice did things to his stomach. Things he would like to blame on the delicious drink.

Hot chocolates in dreams always tasted wonderful but Hongjoong never quite got it right when he tried to replicate the taste once he woke up.

Nodding at it, he set the cup down into his lap.

"Yeah, you're nice, Hongjoong."

Stunned by hearing his name again from those plush lips, Hongjoong blinked at him. A tender touch to his chin had him startle. His lashes fluttered as he regarded the delicate fingers that held him like an artwork made of glass.

"You got some foam on your lips," was all the explanation Seonghwa mumbled before he pulled Hongjoong in. When their lips met in a warm touch, Hongjoong's heart sprung out of his chest.

And he woke up.

"Goddamn it!"

Agitated, Hongjoong slapped his hand down on the covers next to him. In the dark, his anger felt entirely irrelevant, even so, he pouted at the void of his room. He had preferred to continue that dream.

After a few minutes of anger, he dropped into his sheets again huffing. His heart had yet to settle again, and his mind cruelly fed into it by telling him how nice it probably was to kiss Seonghwa. How he would smell of flowers and taste of hot chocolate.

It took Hongjoong an hour to fall back asleep. He didn't dream again, and when his alarm woke him to watch over Seonghwa's sleep he awoke disgruntled.

Angrily, he slurped his cereal down. On the side, he checked his messages and replied to the most important ones right away. Some local news brushed past him to be forgotten instantly.

Hongjoong clicked on the Instagram icon when he spotted the little red digit next to it. He had never been much of a model, hence why the app was usually dry in his direction. Today, it alerted him of a new following, however.

Mindlessly, he tapped the notification, expecting it to be yet another stranger that had decided to follow him randomly.

When he read the name, he blanked for a moment.

Then he read it again and blanked once more.

Hongjoong actually had to tap his trembling fingertip at the person and check their profile to understand.

Seonghwa had followed him on Instagram. They shared one friend, San.

With his spoon hovering in the air and all milk dripping from it, Hongjoong stared at the man's profile until it blurred in front of his eyes. There was a new picture of him from yesterday that Hongjoong hadn't seen since his last late-night stalking here. It showed Seonghwa sitting on the edge of his bed with a playful tilt of his body as he took a mirror selfie. The caption read a very basic 'what's your favourite type of ice cream?'.

Dangling from the top right bedpost, Hongjoong spotted the dream catcher. The wooden ring had the same natural brown colour as the dangling feathers beneath. The ornate pattern of strings inside created a symmetrical image. The door between him and Seonghwa's dreams.

Hongjoong set his spoon down before he checked the follow again. Indeed, it was the one and only Seonghwa who now watched over Hongjoong's account. Who had actually made the effort to find him in the first place.

Happy and carefree, Hongjoong's heart galloped in his chest. When his finger hovered over the 'follow back' button, a deep blush heated his cheeks. Now that Seonghwa had started it he could, right? Or should he keep their relationship strict?

Ultimately, Hongjoong followed the call of his heart. He hit the button and turned off his phone lightning-fast to push it into the depths of his pocket. In record speed, he inhaled his breakfast to distract himself. He choked only three times because he went too rapid.

In his car, Hongjoong turned up his music loud enough that it shut out every thought that might have occurred. A few people outside on the sidewalks threw him glances, they probably listened in.

At work, San was currently chatting up Jongho to get an extension on a report. His claims consisted mostly of him not being able to see well currently and suffering immense pain. Jongho reminded him that his accident had been recent, and he had been at that report for three weeks before that already.

Hongjoong snuck past them privately. He collected his papers and was on his way to sneak back out behind them when San pointed an accusing finger at him.

"You! I heard of something interesting earlier this morning." Foxy eyes disappeared around his sly grin. Hongjoong broke out in a cold sweat.

"Ah, what could that be? Haha, I heard nothing interesting." Nervously, he shrugged inside his cardigan to fill it with some fresh air.

Upset at the interruption, Jongho crossed his arms. His withering glare switched between the two of them.

"Should I tell you? It has to do with a certain black-haired beauty."

Hongjoong inched out of the door slow like a turtle.

"Wooyoung has two colours though, you should refer to them as such," Hongjoong squeaked out in a panic. San fed on his embarrassment. The sadistic shine in his eyes announced the words before he could say them.

Jongho slammed his hand on the wall next to San's head just when he opened his mouth. San startled, his specs nearly falling off his face. Befuddled, he pushed them back up.

"This conversation is about your report, San," he hissed at him lowly. While San cowered under the might of their boss, Hongjoong seized the chance to flee. Only when he arrived at the attic, he dared to breathe again. As he set up his things, he checked his phone again. Nothing new from Seonghwa. But Wooyoung followed him now, too. With far less investment than earlier Hongjoong followed him back.

The newest picture on his profile was with San (before the eye incident, that wasn't hard to identify.) It showed Wooyoung and San in some misty club lit by purple and red neon lights. Wooyoung lolled on San's lap sensually, their heads leaned against each other. He stared at the camera with a sharp gaze further accentuated by his dark make-up. San's hand rested on his hip, just a little too low to be just for support.

Hongjoong didn't bother reading the caption. No doubt, they had gone all out with their sexiness to seduce each other.

When the monitor pinged to celebrate Seonghwa's first seconds of sleep, Hongjoong sat up. Usually, he ran right away as soon as Seonghwa entered the first REM phase.

The idea of seeing the man today messed with Hongjoong in many ways. He still felt bad for having shot him, but at the same time, his little crush on the man absolutely raged after his dream and also the newest developments in the waking world. Their sudden interactions were not enough and too much at once. It all overwhelmed Hongjoong.

The only thought his mind pushed through to make it heard was something about Seonghwa being a bottom. Hongjoong shoved it off with the reminder that switches were people, too. Only to regret instantly because he had played into the damn thing again.

For a while, Hongjoong sat alone on his chair and pouted. When the first warning words popped up, he didn't even want to move out of spite. Still, he was on his feet within a moment. A desert didn't sound much like Seonghwa's usual place to be. For safety, Hongjoong prepared a backpack in limbo full of water bottles, a rope, and a knife in case one of the snakes Seonghwa feared surfaced from the sand.

Ready for a successful dream saving, Hongjoong appeared in Seonghwa's dream. Only to be blinded immediately.

It took him multiple careful blinks to adjust to the bright light of the sun. It reflected on the endless flat that stretched until all eternity with nothing but white sand.

Seonghwa was in front of Hongjoong. He strolled aimlessly, his hands in his pockets. Instead of his uniform or appropriate gear, he wore a fancy suit. Its pattern had grey checkers with black lining that he wore including not only a black shirt and tie but also a suit vest.

Hongjoong sweated just looking at him as he rolled up his sleeves. He had gladly opted for shorts in limbo already.

For a while, they did nothing else but walk. Nothing sprung out, and the tension didn't feel off and threatening as usually, too. Hongjoong allowed himself some slack as he regarded his feet stepping into the trail Seonghwa left. His feet were smaller than the pretty dress shoes that Seonghwa wore.

Unbearable heat and an infinite desert with not a single sprout of vegetation seemed to be the only nightmare here. Seonghwa quietly cleared his throat multiple times, struggling with the dust and dry air.

After a while of wandering, Hongjoong reached for his backpack. Quietly, he retrieved the bottle on the side, partly warmed by the sun.

With a long arm, he threw it. Seonghwa flinched when it landed in the dust far in front of him. Then, he glanced over his shoulder.

Hongjoong shuffled out of his line of sight, always behind him.

Since it was a dream, it wasn't hard to accept that it was raining bottles. Seonghwa took it to drink. Then, he continued.

Sneaky, Hongjoong followed.

After another eternity, Hongjoong threw the next bottle. This time, Seonghwa watched it fly with his head tilted. When he turned to look around behind him, Hongjoong scrambled to be in place on time. He was close enough now to see the sweat glistening on Seonghwa's neck. It wet the collar of his pristine shirt.

Again, Seonghwa took the bottle. He emptied it without complaints. As he marched on, Hongjoong was right behind him, only one footstep breaking them apart.

Hongjoong looked at their feet again, marvelling at the peace that they shared currently. Though something had to unsettle Seonghwa. Maybe the lack of anything, the loneliness. It could be hell.

Another subtle glance fell over Seonghwa's shoulder. He knew he was being followed. Hongjoong didn't underestimate his keen senses. If there were any trees in Seonghwa's imagination Hongjoong also wouldn't have to be so ominous about it. By now he was probably the fear factor in this dream.

Just when Hongjoong wanted to reach for the next bottle to keep Seonghwa hydrated, the man whipped around so fast that his body blurred in Hongjoong's sight. Not leaving him enough time to react and dodge. Hongjoong hadn't even noticed the black gloves on his hands until the heated leather caught his wrist.

And suddenly, Seonghwa's hands weren't empty anymore.

With a screech, the metal shackles snapped around Hongjoong's wrists.

Dumbfounded, Hongjoong stared at his hands. At the flimsy chain between his bindings, that Seonghwa held with a black fist. His voice was no more than a murmur but it had Hongjoong's heart skip a beat still.

"So there was someone following me. What are you doing out here-" Seonghwa interrupted himself when Hongjoong rose his shocked face to him. A subtle smirk played around Seonghwa's lips, sinister like a panther ready to pounce on its prey.

"- Hongjoong?"