purplebenjy:
Island || 001
Something isn’t right. He shouldn’t be asleep right now. Why can’t he-
With a jolt, Benjy sits straight up. His breathing is panicked and shaky, and it takes him a full thirty seconds to realize that he’s not on the ship. There’d been that big hit, a loud noise, blackness and now….
Benjy looks down at himself-he’s topless, which is odd. And he has on trousers he doesn’t recognize. Color creeps into his cheeks when he realizes the implications of that-had he had some sort of episode? Had they docked? But why was he nearly naked? Next he notices what he’s on-some sort of mat? Benjy touches it, its rough but its somehow not hard. Handmade. Beside the mat is sand, sand whiter than he’d ever seen. Benjy looks up, the same sort of reeds that made the mat made some sort of crude roof, it was propped up on two broken pieces of wood, creating semi-shelter from the sun. With horror, Benjy realizes the wood is from the ship-how had it broken like this? Where was he?
Benjy hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps and lets out a noise of panic before he can stop himself. He scrambles to the back of the makeshift shelter, looking around wildly for something to defend himself with. He comes up with a frankly pitiful twig, but he brandishes it all the same.
“Who’s there?” He calls. Or tries to, his voice is so hoarse its barely a squeak.
@cassielavery
Cassiel barely blinks at the sight of the man cowering in the far corner of the shelter with a stick waving in front of his face.
“You’re awake,” he says plainly, his voice a bit rough from two days’ disuse.
The man, Benjy Cassiel recalls as his name, does not say anything, but Cassiel feels his eyes on him as he backs out of the shelter and returns to his spot by the firepit. He closes his eyes against a light breeze coming in off the ocean, blowing more of his hair loose from his ragged black ribbon. He had only just returned from another trip out to the wreck to see what else he could salvage when he heard Benjy start to stir. At this point, the daily, sometimes twice daily, trip has become more of a self-punishing pilgrimage than a survival mission, but he cannot bring himself to stop.
“What do you want, Cass?”
They are tangled together under a blanket too short for their legs, Amos’ head cradled against Cass’ shoulder as they both watch the night sky filter through the floorboards above their heads.
Cass frowns and pulls back his head to face his lover. “Want, my love?”
Amos hums, brushing his nose against Cass’ chest. “Mmhmm, what do you want from this life?”
“That’s quite a grand question for this late hour.”
Cass’ favorite scraps of the night sky are contained in those dark eyes scowling up at him now. “Humor a man who has to take watch soon.”
“Mmm, as you wish.” Cass grins, pressing his lips to the other man’s forehead and giggling at the disgruntled noise he gets in response. He looks at this man pulled so close to him. His hair is loose and swept in short waves that barely reach his shoulders and his skin olive in the sunshine is now silver under shafts of moonbeam. Amos tilts his head up to meet his eye.
“You’re staring.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“And you’re avoiding the question.”
“May I tell you instead what I don’t want?”
Amos pushes up on one elbow to frown down at Cass. “How’s that?”
Cass holds his gaze, drinking in this beautiful man naked in his bed and unknowingly holding his entire world in his beautiful hands.
“I never want to know a day without you.”