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

[midship]

They need to get Archie to his own version of the sea. They need a night or two when they can drown together in a single bed. They need a stretch of hours, at least, when they can just press ears against chests and feel the certainty of one another.

For now, this moment of standing close will have to do.

"Hm." This nuzzle comes with the faintest brush of lips against Archie's cheek. "Love you."

They can't shout it. They can't do much more than breathe it. But it needs saying.

[betteralready]

"I love you, too," he whispers softly, kissing him lightly against the cheek back.

And then, reluctance obvious in his entire being, he starts to step away from the selkie.

"We-- probably should go back up."

[midship]

One last catch of fingers. One last moment breathing deep in the certainty of being near one another again.

"Be safe."

It's not quite as important to say anymore, but it comes naturally enough.

[betteralready]

“You too.”

They aren’t entirely safe so long as they’re in the Navy. It’s something they’ll have to live with, for now.

[midship]

This is still better. This is still steps in the right direction.

This will make it just a bit easier to breathe even as they dive back into their work.