A knot unwinds itself in his chest, the ropes uncurling and unlooping themselves, falling loose. Never has he cared for anyone the way he cares for the man pressed between his palms now. Never has he felt more fearful that he has something to lose, too. He'd lost his father, his ship, his crew - he thought he'd lost it all. And here he is, looking into the face of the sun over the sea itself.
"Tell anyone you want," he says, a little confused, a little desperate. "That doesn't matter to me. I want - what you want. Waking, sleeping, being. I just - go to sea however you wish just come home to me sometimes? Know that I'm the wind in your sail and I won't let you go astray."
He breathes a little, desperate, an edge of wanting so deeply that he's never felt before, like he's holding onto a rope slicked by ice and storm in the winter. There's no hauling easy sails in the storm.
"Go out with you?" He blinks, confused and wide eyed - but he thinks he's heard the words when Koby had one of those magazines out on his chest like he'd been a desk while he dozed in and out one afternoon. "Boyfriends? Yes. I want that. Where I'm from we'd say we've been bound. Temporary or not - a binding is a beautiful thing."
It's not like marriage, not so serious as anything like that but a connection drawn between to people - lines mapped out with understanding and expectations.
"Let me be bound to you. I will tell everyone your name is on my heart," he laughs and kisses him softly, murmuring the words against his mouth. "And we will return from our adventures and laugh about the good and the bad. So - whatever the word is - boyfriend. Going out. Yes."
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"Tell anyone you want," he says, a little confused, a little desperate. "That doesn't matter to me. I want - what you want. Waking, sleeping, being. I just - go to sea however you wish just come home to me sometimes? Know that I'm the wind in your sail and I won't let you go astray."
He breathes a little, desperate, an edge of wanting so deeply that he's never felt before, like he's holding onto a rope slicked by ice and storm in the winter. There's no hauling easy sails in the storm.
"Go out with you?" He blinks, confused and wide eyed - but he thinks he's heard the words when Koby had one of those magazines out on his chest like he'd been a desk while he dozed in and out one afternoon. "Boyfriends? Yes. I want that. Where I'm from we'd say we've been bound. Temporary or not - a binding is a beautiful thing."
It's not like marriage, not so serious as anything like that but a connection drawn between to people - lines mapped out with understanding and expectations.
"Let me be bound to you. I will tell everyone your name is on my heart," he laughs and kisses him softly, murmuring the words against his mouth. "And we will return from our adventures and laugh about the good and the bad. So - whatever the word is - boyfriend. Going out. Yes."