Pine Beach isn’t a tourist attraction. Mark knows that it’s exactly the opposite. Jagged rocks line the shore, treacherous cliffs surround the cove, and it sits in a perpetual state of gloom and fog. He’s never seen it as anything other than a gray mess of danger, but that was always half of the magic to him.

He picks through the forest that ended mere feet from the shoreline, listening to the tinkling laughter coming from the beach. The laughter stops when he steps on a pile of leaves and crunches them, but he doesn’t care much for the loss of the creatures the laughter belonged to. He hopes Jisung doesn’t get mad at him for it. The beach comes into view and with it comes the sight of Jisung staring out at the entrance of the cove. He comes closer, coming to a stop just behind him sitting on a rock, and watches the entrance with him. A wave crests from the shore outward and Mark thinks that he doesn’t miss their presence.

“You missed the kelpies,” Jisung says when the wave is out of sight, and his voice echoes in the silence and emptiness as Mark shrugs.

“You know we don’t get along, Sungie,” he mumbles, removing his hand from his sweater pocket and wrapping them around Jisung’s waist. He rests his head on Jisung’s shoulder and hums contently. “They hate me on principle anyway. Think I’m always stealing their prey.”

“Call me prey again and I’m kicking you out,” Jisung says without much bite, leaning back into Mark and leaning his head to the side. Mark takes advantage of that, nuzzling his nose against Jisung’s exposed neck, breathing in the scent of the woods and salty sea mixing together.

“Can’t help it,” he whispers, enjoying the way Jisung shivers from his warm breath fanning along the side of his neck. “Force of habit, Sungie.”

“Well, make it not so habitual,” he retorts in an attempt to draw attention away from his flustered expression. Mark smiles lazily, leaning in to steal a quick kiss, nothing more than a brush of cold, chapped lips. Jisung lets him, but immediately after he smacks his arm, annoyed. “Stop distracting me, I’m trying to be mad at you.” He huffs a laugh, settling against Jisung’s shoulder again. The wind tosses his hair around, rearranging the black strands as it wished, and it’s as he lets his senses wander in the quiet that he notices Jisung shivering in his arms. He frowns, suddenly aware of the cold that he’d earlier dismissed.

“Are you cold?” he mumbles, and even though Jisung says “No, it’s not that bad,” Mark remembers the last time he’d taken Jisung’s word for this situation and how sick he’d gotten the day after. “You’re cold. Hold on, I’ll take my sweater off.”

“Wait, it’s ok Mark–,” Jisung begins, turning around to face him, but Mark’s muffled words interrupt him while he’s pulling the sweater off.

“You know I’m better used to the cold than you, Sungie,” Mark argues, handing the pale bluish-gray sweater to him. The teal and violet scales lining his arms glint dully even with the cloudy weather. Jisung takes it reluctantly and slips it over his head. He looks cute with it, Mark notes, because his shoulders are a little narrower than his own, and so it hangs off of his body more.

“Cute,” he says, taking pride in the new blush that colors Jisung’s cheeks.

“Shut up,” he whines, grabbing Mark’s arms and pulling him closer. A satisfied smile crosses his face and he slings his arms over his shoulders.

“Maybe you could make me,” he suggests, and although Jisung huffs and rolls his eyes, he complies. He pulls Mark further down to kiss him, both hesitant and purposeful, and he can’t help but smile as their lips touch again. He sinks into it, slipping a cold hand under the sweater to trace small circles against his waist. Jisung brings his hand up to Mark’s neck and uses his thumbs to trace Mark’s jawline. Jisung’s lips may be chapped but they’re still as plump as always, and Mark gets a little adventurous and nips them. He relishes the gasp that follows, pulling away and tilting his head mischievously.

“Not a word,” Jisung warns. He mimes zipping his mouth closed, stifling his laughter. Jisung grabs his hands and fits his fingers in between his own. “Your hands are too cold.” Mark tilts his head, asking silently what he wants to do about it. Jisung answers with his own silence, slipping both of their hands into the sweater pocket. “Perfect.”

They fall into their own thoughts, and Mark wonders if things would have been different if Donghyuck hadn’t dared him to swim south, if he hadn’t torn his wings off to escape from the rocks that had trapped him, if Jisung hadn’t found him three years ago bleeding and half-conscious. He wonders if maybe he would have continued doing what his parents wanted him to, to marry Seulgi and secure a place as royalty on the throne. He wonders if he would be able to even imagine being this content with that life.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just wondering some things,” he says vaguely. “Did I ever tell you about my wings?” Jisung shakes his head in response and Mark widens his eyes in surprise. “Really? Three years and I haven’t said anything about them?”

“I never asked,” Jusung murmured, reaching over Mark’s shoulder to run his fingers along the healed ridges where the wings used to be. “You always looked so distressed when they got brought up, so I never did.”

“I didn’t know I did that.” He rests his forehead on Jisung’s head and shuts his eyes. “They were black, like charcoal. Not quite like my hair, a few shades lighter.” Jisung’s hand moves to twirl a few strands with his finger. “They were almost a foot and a half longer than my arms, and I never realized how much strength they gave me just by existing until I didn’t have them. We’re creatures of the ocean, Sungie, so we never used them, but they were comforting.” He breathes deeply, centering himself again instead of getting swept up in the pain. “I miss them sometimes. I miss them because they remind me of Donghyuck.”

“Who was he?” he asked softly. “You talk about him so sadly.”

“My best friend, but he was always more than that. He knew me better than anyone else bothered to, and I think sometimes that he knew I wasn’t going to come back when he first dared me to journey this far south. That he dared me because he knew how miserable I was and took action on my part.”

“I’m sorry you can’t go back to see him,” Jisung said, pulling him closer and nuzzling his head into Mark’s chest. “You’ve given up so much.”

Mark looks out to the cove, imagining the expansive ocean beyond it. He thinks about how he used to swim through it, wearing the water like a second skin, about how being with Donghyuck felt like a breath of fresh air in a pressurized existence.

He tightens his arms around Jisung. “I don’t regret any part of it. Even losing the powers of my song was worth making it out of that hell,” he says bittersweetly. He kisses Jisung’s forehead and moves back, locking his fingers around Jisung’s wrist to pull him forward. “Come on, let’s go back home. It’s too cold for you out here.” Jisung pushes himself up and jumps down from the rock, removing his wrist from Mark’s hold to lock fingers again.

“Sing me for again?” And when Jisung gives him those wide, innocent eyes, Mark knows he’s too weak to resist.

The other half of the magic of Pine Beach lies in Park Jisung, and he’s the reason Mark stayed.

He’s back on the shore. He doesn’t know why, but it feels right. The ocean has all but lost its power over him, but somehow the calmness of being near it remains. Jisung’s got a report due soon, so Mark left him at his desk to finish. It’s for the best, really, because the weather is getting worse. The storm clouds are getting ever darker and the waves are crashing against the beach with more intensity. It doesn’t bother him, but he thinks that he should head back soon. If Jisung saw this weather, he would have a fit that Mark stayed out so long in it, reprimanding him that he was going to push the limits of his immunity too far. He still thinks Jisung’s worry is unwarranted considering his internal functions still remember the coldness of his birthplace, how it seemed to seep into his bones and steal the warmth away.

Donghyuck was always warmer than him, somehow, and he’d let Mark use him a personal heater whenever needed. Even his lips had been warm, so saying that kissing him was like kissing the sun wasn’t a stretch.

But this weather reminds him of the chilling depths, and he’s not wearing anything other than a thin shirt and sweatpants, so he thinks that maybe he should go back. He takes one last look at the dull white-crested waves and begins to turn away, but a suspiciously dark shadow moves closer to him, and Mark immediately tenses.

Kelpies and sirens are two halves of the same coin, but it’s the differences between their similarities that make them such bitter rivals. Every siren becomes accustomed to recognizing the signs of an approaching kelpie before they learn to sing, so Mark doesn’t have a single doubt that a kelpie is currently coming toward him. The instinct to run overtakes the instinct to fight, and he’s beginning to make a break for the forest to return to Jisung’s house when he catches sight of someone sitting on the kelpie’s back. That makes him pause: no one comes out of the water riding a kelpie. They only get dragged in.

He’s further stunned when he recognizes the brown hair and tan skin and fierce eyes that peek out from under his bangs, and Mark’s astonished eyes track Donghyuck’s every movement as he reels the kelpie in. He’s stuck in a limbo of emotions, unsure whether the happiness or confusion will win, and the tears that threaten his vision burn as he holds them back.

Donghyuck doesn’t have his wings and he has legs, and Mark has to process this because it means Donghyuck is human now. Or as human as a siren can become. He sees the orange and red scales Donghyuck paraded so proudly on his arms and neck and, when he turns around to face the kelpie, the raised scars of his wings through his soaked shirt. His heart clenches painfully.

Donghyuck sees him then. He must have already known Mark was there, because how else would he have had such perfect timing? But he still pauses once he’s fully turned to face, the sheer enormity of the moment freezing them both in place.

Behind Donghyuck, the kelpie tosses its head and snorts, stomping in place once before turning to run into the waves. Its black body dissolves into white sea foam as it enters the water, mixing with the tumultuous sea as if it was one and the same. That’s how they used to be, he thinks to himself absently. But Donghyuck was supposed to be back home and Mark was supposed to accept that he’d never see him again, and even though it tore his heart apart to love Jisung knowing that Donghyuck was still out there, he’d told himself it wouldn’t amount to anything to hold onto it. So he’d moved that love to a corner of his heart and covered it with memories that collected dust as the years passed. He feels it claw its way back up and fill him, remembers why he and Donghyuck fit so well.

He wants to reach out for him, wants to hold him in his arms again, but the shock keeps him in place even as the yearning in his heart tugs him forward. Donghyuck stands in his place too, too far and yet so much closer than he had been.

The moment breaks when Donghyuck opens his mouth.

“Mark?” His name carries through the space between them as if it didn’t exist, and Mark feels the last bit of his restraint break. He takes one staggering step toward Donghyuck and the uncertainty is broken, and Donghyuck rushes forward. He tackles him, the scales on the underside of Donghyuck’s arm scratching his own, but it only reminds him that he’s real, that he’s here. They collapse there, holding each other like the lifelines they used to be, and the tears leak out, small crystals dotting the corners of his eyes.

With a broken gasp, Mark can only ask, “Why?”

“You weren’t there anymore,” Donghyuck replies, his face shoved into Mark’s shoulder and muffling his words. “There wasn’t any point. I hated them, I hated everything they tried to turn me into.” And he understands that pull away from home – he only wishes it had treated Donghyuck more nicely than himself. There’s the overwhelming need to look at Donghyuck again, to take in his features like this might be the last time he sees him because he doesn’t trust the world to let him have happiness. He leans back a little, just enough to see the tiredness and exhaustion in Donghyuck’s eyes, evidence of sleepless nights and a relentless pursuit to find him. He traces the scars on his shoulders, fresher than his own, and tells him with his eyes how he understands.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Mark whispers. He kisses Donghyuck’s cheekbones and wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes, still letting the fact sink in that Donghyuck is back. Not thousands of miles away. Not in the ocean with the rest of their clan. Here, on the beach with him, as the storm comes ever closer to them.

“Let me kiss you.” He isn’t sure if it comes from him or Donghyuck, but it doesn’t matter.

The best way he can describe it is bittersweet. The love that they used to have shadowed by the distance that separated them, the knowledge that they have no idea what happened to the other in the past four years. But Mark wants to relearn the intricacies of Donghyuck, what makes him laugh with the lightness of the breeze and smile like a sun ray. He wants to intertwine their lives together until he can’t tell the difference between what he had lived before and what he is living now. They separate with a sigh and stare at each other again.

“Come with me. There’s someone you should meet.”

The door to Jisung’s house has always creaked when opened no matter how many times Mark oiled it, so he’d given up the second year in. It means that Jisung knows he’s back, and he’s already coming down the stairs to meet him.

“Mark, I was about to come–,” Jisung’s face appears around the corner and he stops short when he sees Donghyuck and Mark holding hands, eyes widening a little in surprise. Mark smiles a little uncertainly at him because even though Jisung is well aware of who Donghyuck is to him, he isn’t sure how well this will go over. He doesn’t want Jisung to feel lied to, doesn’t want Donghyuck to be left out, doesn’t want to upset either of them because he knows it’ll hurt too much to choose. “Is that–?”

“Donghyuck, this is my boyfriend Jisung,” he says tentatively, waiting for Donghyuck’s reaction. On the short walk, he’d mentioned Jisung, but Donghyuck hadn’t said anything in response, so Mark had let him think about it. For a moment, he merely blinks at Jisung, assessing him in that way he has to see if new people are worth his time. Then the sunny smile peeks through, and Mark breathes a sigh of relief. Donghyuck walks toward Jisung and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, smiling at the blush that quickly overtakes Jisung’s face.

“You’re pretty cute, Jisungie,” Donghyuck teases, already falling into a familiar role with him, and Jisung rolls his eyes the way he does when Mark does something stupid and he still loves him for it. He leans back against the door frame and watches them fondly, patiently waiting for all of them to settle into this new routine.

The magic of Pine Beach lies in Jisung and Donghyuck now, and Mark wouldn’t have it any other way.