Lee Minho. The Minsons. The Pirate Trap.

Han Jisung, or "Little Squirrel," as he was known in private, was a perfectly ordinary captain on a small ship. They called him that because he had amber eyes and chubby cheeks like a squirrel's. His lips were slightly plump, and his skin was fair. His brown hair was wavy, which added to his cuteness. He wasn't exactly stocky, but he wasn't skinny either. He was a happy medium, so to speak. He was short. One day, when his ship stopped on the shore of a certain kingdom, Han felt a sharp headache late in the evening. It felt like someone had smashed a bottle over his head, causing him to lose consciousness. He woke up only in the night, chained to the mast of an unknown ship. Only then did he notice a man three years his senior standing over him. It was Lee Minho, the owner of the most dangerous ship, the one they were currently on. He had a strong build and was tall. He had black, cat-like eyes, fair skin, and full lips. He had black hair and, undoubtedly, a good eye for captives. Minho stood over Han, leaning one hand on the mast above his head.
"Finally, our little squirrel has woken up," the older one drawled in a mocking, purring voice. His other hand rose, running the back of his finger across the younger boy's cheek.
"How are you feeling? Do you have a headache?" Minho asked with the same grin, as if mocking Han's already difficult situation.
The brunette, to put it mildly, wasn't happy with this situation. Being held captive by anyone wasn't part of his plans. Who knew what this black-haired devil might come up with? He wasn't particularly interested in finding out what ideas were running through his elder's head. But then, no one had asked Khan.
From now on, you'll have to figure it out yourself; history is on your shoulders. This isn't happening in our time!