Archive of Our Own

“Well, shit,” Minseok says, as his ship tumbles over into the dark side of the moon, hurtling towards the surface.

The emergency autopilot tries to engage, but the system alarm goes off. Should have checked that rattling sound, Minseok thinks absently as he tries to override the system to kick it into manual mode as the rattling of the ship gets stronger and stronger until he’s barely holding onto the controls and he—

Minseok’s head hurts. There’s a throbbing in his right knee, and his left arm is burning. But hey, he’s not dead?

He tries and fails to blink, before squishing his eyes shut and then forcing them open.

“Oh,” he says. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but this certainly isn’t Balhae station.

It takes him a few more breaths that feel altogether too creaky for his liking, like trying to inflate a rusty pump, to become more aware of his surroundings. Namely, the fact that his head seems to be resting on—

Minseok considers the surface for a moment, the way he can hear someone else breathing—

—someone?! Minseok jolts, trying to scramble himself off the ground, but a firm arm slips down from where fingers were carding through his hair—

—how did he miss that?—

to hold him still.

“What—?” Minseok says, but a warm voice interrupts his question.

“You’re injured,” the voice says. “Let me finish.”

“Finish what?” Minseok thinks, but well, he’s not dead yet, so he relaxes and tries to breathe normally again. The way the fingers are running through his hair is so soothing, even if he’s not sure where his helmet, or for that matter, his space suit, is. Or his ship.

Now that he’s both awake and not panicking, he takes the time to glance around the room. Or, well, it’s not precisely a room, but more of a pavilion surrounded by red and purple things that might be some kind of tree?

Minseok’s not sure, but the longer he lies here, the more relaxed he feels, as the pain in his knee and arm and head recedes and he drifts off to sleep.

He wakes to the sound of a beautiful laugh, like bells.

“What?” he says, or tries to say; his mouth is dry, and he feels like he had both the best sleep of his life but also just woke up from the dead. It’s a strange feeling, and Minseok tries to shake it off, blinking up into the face of—

“Who are you?” he asks, then feels bad about his rudeness. The person (alien?) doesn’t seem to mind, just meets his gaze with large brown eyes that are a little too big, on a green-freckled face.

“I’m Jongdae,” the stranger, Jongdae, says, or at least, that’s the closest Minseok can wrap his head around the sounds. They smile, and their soft openness is so completely disarming that Minseok feels reluctantly charmed. Not charmed enough not to wonder how he got here, though.

“How… what happened?” he asks, struggling to sit up. Jongdae’s lap might be warm and nice to lie in, and Minseok is a little (or maybe quite) reluctant to move, but he’d rather not be swooning all over someone he just met. Jongdae seems equally reluctant to release him, but they help Minseok sit up next to them.

Now that Minseok’s sitting, he can see better, and his surroundings are both beautiful and completely bemusing. He’s never been here before, or seen anything like it, at least that he can remember. The sky is a soft lilac, and the clouds are gold.

“Where are we?” he adds, turning back to look at Jongdae. Jongdae, who has… wings?

Minseok’s pretty sure this is too strange for any kind of afterlife, or he’d be convinced he was dead.

“You crashed into the lake,” Jongdae explains, a slight frown shadowing their face as they gesture towards what Minseok can now see, yes, is undoubtedly his ship. His poor, atmosphere-entry-burned ship. Ouch.

“I fished you out,” Jongdae continues. “You were hurt, so I tried to make it better.” They hold out their hand, and Minseok startles as gold sparks appear out of nowhere, humming around Jongdae’s fingers. They’re a lot longer than regular-old human fingers, and normally that would start to fall into the uncanny valley for him, but he’s too distracted by the magic.

Is it magic?

It’s not anything Minseok’s felt before, and judging by the wreckage of his poor ship, he should be a lot worse off than he is. Minseok glances down to survey himself; apart from the strange clothing, he seems to be all in one piece. Maybe that explains the waking up from the dead feeling.

“Uh, thanks,” Minseok says, tipping his head. It feels woefully inadequate for someone who probably saved his life. “I’m sorry about the lake?” It sounds more like a question than he would like, and he grimaces.

Jongdae smiles, rather than scold him, and reaches out to touch his arm. The gold sparks tickle a little, warm. It feels nice. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Jongdae says. “I’d rather not have someone buried in my lake.” Their mouth quirks, and Minseok’s pretty sure they’re trying to smother a laugh.

“I’m glad too,” he says, smiling back. “I can help pull the ship out of the lake, and try to fix anything that was damaged.”

Jongdae shrugs. “You weren’t heavy,” they say. “I just left it there for now since you were hurt.” Minseok eyes the wings, considering; they look like spun gossamer, but maybe they’re stronger than they look.

“Well, anything I can do to help,” he insists. “I owe you.”

Jongdae gives him a considering glance, opening a small door in the pavilion wall, and pulling out what looks like a pitcher of some kind of… tea, perhaps? They pour out a small cup and pass it to Minseok.

“You must be thirsty,” they say, pouring their own cup and taking a sip. Minseok tries the tea; it tastes like flowers.

“You seem like you’ve been to a lot of places,” Jongdae says, glancing back towards the ship for a moment before meeting Minseok’s eye. “You can tell me stories.”

“Oh,” Minseok says, stalling by taking another sip. “Is that..will that be enough?” He pauses, then repeats his previous question. “Where is this?”

“Stories are important!” Jongdae insists. Their wings flap, perhaps with heightened emotion, and one of them brushes Minseok’s arm. It feels so soft. “And this is Jebi, one of the planets of—

“Jebi?” Minseok knows he’s staring but just… “How did I manage to crash here?”

Jongdae shrugs. “Maybe you hit a wormhole?” They don’t sound perturbed, like wormholes are an everyday event. Minseok honestly hopes not. Jongdae just takes another sip of tea and glances back at him. “So, a story?” Their expression is way too eager; Minseok doesn’t have a hope of resisting.

Oh well. If he’s going to be stuck on an outer-ring galaxy planet for a while, at least it seems like the company will be nice. Minseok takes another sip of tea and leans back into the cushions.

"What kinds of places do you like best?"