GB 103

Haero volunteered to stand watch instead of the medical officer. He felt he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all.

Whether his eyes were closed or open, that massive, blurry light lingered in his vision. It was believable enough to be an artificial sun or moon in the sky. Perhaps the fear he felt at that time made it seem larger and brighter. Haero thought he wouldn’t be able to forget that light for quite some time.

If he had been on a lost ship, could he have resisted being drawn to that light? If he discovered a light while in the endlessly lonely vastness of the ocean with just over a dozen people rather than a ship carrying hundreds, could he have kept from rushing toward it?

“Haah…” Haero let out a long sigh.

He had prided himself on growing up with the sea, making it his friend and playground, but in truth, that wasn’t the case. The sea Haero knew was merely a safe portion suitable for an innocent child, while the reality was a monster so vast that one could barely claim to know even its edges.

“Haah…” Deep sighs continued to escape him.

Just then, the door to the medical bay opened. He thought it might be an injured crew member, but it wasn’t. The person who entered was Yoon Moo-hwa, without a scratch on him.

“You’re not on duty today.” 

“…You knew I wasn’t on duty and still came.” 

Yoon Moo-hwa smiled slowly. “It’s my ship, so I need to know how everything’s going.”

Yoon Moo-hwa approached and sat on a round stool without a backrest. Under his massive frame, the stool seemed even smaller. He pulled the wheels with his feet to bring himself closer and caressed Haero’s cheek.

“Were you scared?” 

“…A bit.” 

There was no use in lying.

“It’s definitely different from what we learn in classrooms.” 

“That’s how it is. This is my first time seeing one too. Something that big.” 

“You mean you’ve seen an angler fish before, just not one that large?”

Instead of answering, Yoon Moo-hwa quietly smiled. Haero swallowed a sigh and lowered his gaze to the man’s chest.

His clothes, which had been quite disheveled just two hours ago, were now impeccably neat. Though they were part of the United Federation Navy, it was permissible to include symbols representing one’s country of origin, as long as they didn’t cause discomfort or threat. The buttons on Yoon Moo-hwa’s uniform and dress uniform had turtle ships engraved on them. Thirteen in total. The same design was on Haero’s buttons, as he had attended school within South Korea’s naval territory.

They were clearly the same, but why did they look so different on Yoon Moo-hwa? Was it because despite being on the same ship, their levels of experience were as different as heaven and earth?

Haero fiddled with the buttons that looked ordinary on others, including himself, but on Yoon Moo-hwa’s uniform still appeared to sparkle beautifully, just as when he first saw them.

“If I were Yoon Moo-hwa and you were Number 8, I don’t think I would have sent you to sea either.” 

“Why? Are you finally starting to understand how I feel?” 

“I don’t want to… but yeah, I understand now.” Haero muttered sulkily.

Though it was a space where someone could walk in at any moment, somehow he felt that no one would come today. It would be a night when both sleeping and wakeful sailors would be remembering that light that pulled like a siren’s song. No one would venture out into the corridors for fear of being drawn unconsciously toward that light. Not from their safe burrows.

“That was just a part of what’s out there.” 

“That’s exactly the problem.”

Haero pulled Yoon Moo-hwa closer. With the sound of wheels rolling, Haero found himself embraced in Yoon Moo-hwa’s arms. 

No, Haero was the one doing the embracing.

His body carried a distinct fragrance along with a unique smell—the scent of unfinished sex. But Haero didn’t want to continue it now. If asked to get him hard, to take Yoon Moo-hwa in, he could do it readily, but right now he just wanted to stay in this embrace.

“Are you okay down there?” Haero mumbled with his cheek pressed against Yoon Moo-hwa’s chest. 

“Down where?” 

“Your cock.” 

“Ah.” Yoon Moo-hwa laughed softly. The resonance in his chest sounded as pleasant as a whale’s song. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why? Worried it got pinched?”

“I was worried you might not have been able to put on underwear. It would be pretty awkward if the captain was commanding from the bridge without underwear.” 

“That would be very awkward indeed.” 

“Pervert, are you imagining that now?” Haero scolded Yoon Moo-hwa despite being the one who brought it up. It was their private joke.

“What about you, Haero? Are you okay?” Yoon Moo-hwa asked in a playful tone. To others’ ears it would sound as gruff as ever, but Haero alone could distinguish the subtle difference.

“I feel a bit numb.” 

“What if you got hurt? That would be painful.” 

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’ll ever use it.” Haero made the casual comment without a second thought.

“Want to try using it?” But Yoon Moo-hwa was someone who could say the most casual things with equal nonchalance.

Surprised, Haero lifted his head. Pressing his chin firmly against Yoon Moo-hwa’s chest, he asked, “Try using it? With whom?”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting going to someone else. Haero’s eyes narrowed sharply, becoming even more pointed. Like an angry cat. Yoon Moo-hwa had started it as a joke, but was beginning to feel genuine desire stirring, so he let out a low rumble in his throat.

“With whom? Is there anyone besides me?” 

“You mean put it in you?” 

“Yes. Want to try? I thought you might regret never using it in your lifetime.” Before he finished speaking, Yoon Moo-hwa smiled grimly with darkened eyes. “You’ve never used it, Haero.” 

It was a question with a predetermined answer. 

Haero gave the correct response without needing to see the answer sheet, “I haven’t… Who would I use it with? I can’t even imagine being with anyone else.” 

Haero shuddered with an “ugh.” 

‘This prickly, fastidious child.’ This possessiveness bordering on rudeness was entirely his fault. Yoon Moo-hwa readily accepted his flawed parenting method but felt no remorse.

“If I were to use it, it would be with you,” Haero mumbled, burying his face in Yoon Moo-hwa’s chest like a cat nuzzling. “Forget it. I don’t need to.” 

“Why?” 

“I prefer consuming you.” 

“That’s consuming too.” 

“No. I like swallowing you. When you enter me, the expression you make as you enter, the moans you make when you come—I need to swallow all of that to feel full. That makes it feel complete. And I love it most when I’m drooling, screaming, and falling apart because of you.”

Yoon Moo-hwa’s expression clouded slightly. 

‘My baby is quite explicit. Do I dislike it? Not at all. Is this because of me too? Did I keep the child locked on too long? But if it’s ultimately directed at me, the outcome isn’t so bad.’

Looking at Yoon Moo-hwa’s inscrutable face, Haero let out a small laugh and murmured while leaning more heavily against the broad chest. “Go now… I’m sleepy. Want to sleep a bit.” 

“Are you openly telling your superior that you’re going to slack off while on duty?” 

“I’m still at my post. If a patient comes, I’ll treat them well, so go. You too.” 

“…” 

“Please go, Captain. Aren’t you tired?” 

“The lieutenant would have to let me go first.”

Haero nodded but tightened his arms around Yoon Moo-hwa even more. 

“Lieutenant.” Yoon Moo-hwa lowered his voice further and called to Haero softly, “Medical Officer.” 

“…” 

“Will you let me go?”

Yet Yoon Moo-hwa himself made no effort to break free from Haero’s arms. Instead, he calmly embraced Haero’s shoulders and called to him again in a very low, very deep voice, “Lieutenant Haero.” 

“…” 

“My medical officer has a habit of insubordination, it seems.”

A sleepy laugh escaped from beneath Yoon Moo-hwa’s chin. He liked that soft sound.

Haero slowly drifted to sleep in the broad embrace, inhaling the slightly fishy scent like the sea and Yoon Moo-hwa’s distinctive intense, cool fragrance. The sea no longer flashed, and there was no shimmering light before his eyes.

When he woke from a deep sleep without nightmares of ghost ships, he found himself lying on a makeshift bed with a blanket covering him. Through the round window, the sun was rising. As if mocking the world, showing that the nightmares created by last night’s light were merely imposters pretending to be real.

✼✼✼

The casual conversation that began with the night angler fish led to ghost stories that existed on every ship. Every vessel had at least one ghost story or tale of the supernatural. The most representative was the story of the deck chief who went to the mid-deck for a cigarette while on dawn watch.

“Well, the wind was blowing a bit then. It was even cold. We were a bit further down, closer to the Antarctic Ocean. It was bone-chillingly cold. Have you ever felt the wind coming from Antarctica?”

With the exception of Haero and other junior officers with limited long-term operation experience, there was no one who hadn’t experienced the Antarctic wind.

“That story again? You told us this when we first set sail.” 

Someone snorted, but the deck chief prepared his story with gusto. Even the officers who joined this operation for the first time, including Haero, were listening attentively. Despite having heard it once before on the day they boarded and having shuddered at it.

“It really chills you to the bone. Truly. So there I was, shivering, when suddenly I heard, ‘Deck Chief, Deck Chief… it’s so cold.’ I thought it was the guy on duty with me. So I said, ‘Kid, you think you’re the only one cold? I’m cold too.’ But there was no answer. When I turned around, it was so dark I couldn’t see anything. It was during lights-out, with only weak red lights on, and to make matters worse, the sea fog was particularly thick that day.”