for jollyboat: anywhere you go

[whisted]

He doesn't quite fit.

Horatio had known, of course, that he wouldn't. Even if he had managed to make his way onto a ship years ago, everyone would have known he was odd. Perhaps it's for the best that he's clearly just a bit skittish, just a bit uncertain of himself unlike the other young men his age. Perhaps that would distract the human mind from looking to see just why, exactly, this one didn't seem to be quite entirely right.

It was, nonetheless, one thing to know and another thing to live. Being bundled in heavy unfamiliar fabric is surprisingly uncomfortable. The uniform is far more restrictive than the clothing he had forced himself to become accustomed to while hovering around the port. The sensation of being on a boat, despite the familiarity of the sea, is throwing his stomach through something of a loop. He can't shift and change direction. He can't twist along with the waves, comfortable and easy, or cut through below the discomfort of breakers tugging in the wrong direction. It's unnatural, here on a warped version of the surface. It's twisting something uncomfortable in his shoulders, almost dizzying as he tries to find his feet under him.

This is what he wanted, and it doesn't quite fit.

For the most part, feeling his skin in the sack slung over his shoulders is reassuring. His fingers can worry against the familiar softness with each odd rush of discomfort. This, after all, is the back-up plan. This is the fail-safe if everything falls completely to pieces and he needs to throw himself simply back into the sea. This is the piece of himself which will always fit properly, no matter where he is.

That's why it's resting at the top of his sack as he scrambles up properly into the ship. That's why, in the bluster of humanity, the young selkie doesn't notice that his skin has spilled out onto the deck.

Comments

[jollyboat]

"Okay."

Which means now is probably time to start heading to bed. But first.

"--One more before we do, maybe?"

[whisted]

Horatio rarely gets to laugh completely freely. He lets himself now, long teeth flashing in the dull light from the room's low-burning candles.

"Just one?"

[jollyboat]

He really does love that laugh. It really is something that warms his heart entirely.

“‘s many as you like.”

[whisted]

"I could live with one."

It just might be a long one. It might involve taking a breath and pretending that the parting wasn't long enough to count as two.

"If you could."

[jollyboat]

“I could.”

And he’s already leaning in carefully for another kiss.

[whisted]

Horatio was born to crush the breath out of sailor's lips. Not quite as well as the mermaids, and not quite as traditionally as the sirens, but the impulse lives somewhere under every version of his skin.

Now, it's simply a thrilling thing, throwing himself whole-heartedly into kissing Archie Kennedy. If anything, they'll both be gasping when it's time to come up for air.

[jollyboat]

It feels like drowning, in the best way. It feels like drowning, but it's somehow healing, and Archie is beaming despite the breathlessness when they finally part.

His hand shifts to catch lightly at Horatio's fingers, tugging gently towards the bed.

"C'mon?"

The sooner they go to sleep, the sooner he gets to kiss him again, sober.

[whisted]

Following Archie is always easy. Following Archie into bed is particularly easy, particularly now that it seems incredibly clear he doesn't need to worry about the impulse to burrow in close and warm.

Sharing a room and a bed wasn't new. Being allowed to curl up, the way he was used to sleeping in the security of his heard, is still a brand new blessing to thoroughly enjoy.

[jollyboat]

It is a blessing. It’s absolutely one that has him beaming as they settle together.

“G’night, ‘ratio.”

[whisted]

"G'night, Archie."

It will be. Curling in properly, arms flopped and legs tangled, makes it infinitely easier to drift away into himself.

This is safe. This is familiar. This is actually burrowing in against the warm smell of Archie rather than keeping himself carefully back.

Horatio will still wake early, but he won't leave the bed. It's too pleasant to stay warm and safe.

[jollyboat]

It’s a lovely sensation to wake up to. It’s absolutely amazing, to be comfortably settled against Horatio and feel so surrounded by such a pleasant warmth.

It’s got him already smiling when he opens his eyes properly at last.

[whisted]

Most days, Horatio would have torn himself from the bed. He would have caught up some book or other, set himself to studying charts, even dragged himself down to scrounge up breakfast in order to avoid being too obviously captivated by this young man.

It's lovely, today, to simply study the planes of Archie's features. It's wonderful to still be close when the man blinks back toward wakefulness.

It's perfection to lean across the tiny space between them and press his lips to Archie's.

[jollyboat]

Well, that's an entirely pleasant way to wake up. That has Archie beaming even before Horatio's lips press against his.

He's absolutely going to return the favour; entirely contented in the gesture.

[whisted]

That's a lovely affirmation of the impulse. That pulls a pleased little noise into Horatio's throat, muffled against the kiss.

Pulling his lips away doesn't include pulling his body even a centimeter from the young man. "...morning."

[jollyboat]

"G'morning."

It's an entirely pleased and contented hum as he brushes his nose lightly against Horatio's.

"Sleep well?"

[whisted]

"...I did."

Better than he'd slept before outside of his proper skin. There's a very contented shifting in his limbs, collapsing back around the young man after a soft stretch.

"Did you?"

[jollyboat]

"Mmhm."

And it's clear in the entirely comfortable way he settles in all the more, when Horatio's arms wrap around him again.

"Very well."

[whisted]

The noise in Horatio's throat isn't quite human, but it's clearly entirely fond. His nose nudges in affectionately against Archie's hair again.

"I should find us coffee."

As soon as he can move away again.

[jollyboat]

Archie does his best not to cling, but his arms are reluctant to move away just yet.

“I can— wait a bit, ‘f you don’t mind.”

[whisted]

That pulls another pleased little noise to Horatio's throat, limbs stretching briefly before he settles properly back into the cuddle.

"I don't."

[jollyboat]

He likes that sound. It has him shifting carefully forward to brush noses against Horatio's.

"'s stay here a little longer, then."

[whisted]

The sea is a changeable thing. Her creatures are rough and wild things. Horatio's eyes flicker briefly, like the brief washing of the tide over pebbles on the shore, but his lips stay pulled into a grin.

"Staying with you is easy."

As easy as it could be for a selkie. Much easier than Horatio had ever dreamed.

[jollyboat]

“You can stay ‘s long as you like, then.”

It’s important, that it be on Horatio’s terms.

[whisted]

This, of course, is why Horatio stays. The adoration could be ignored if Archie had been overly demanding. The longing could be cut free if Archie had refused his freedom.

But this? This is what lets all the love in his heart come rushing out in another soft kiss.

"--thank you."

[jollyboat]

A fond little smile and a gently returned kiss.

"Don't-- need to, remember?"

They're just living, now. It's a nice knowledge to have settled so firmly in his heart.