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Gillion Tidestrider, for the first time in a long time, woke up slowly. His eyes blinked open, akin to those of a sleepy cat, and for the first few moments, he wasn’t conscious of where he was or even who he was. The few times this had happened before in recent years, when he had slept so deeply he was disoriented as he woke up, he’d been filled with a bone deep panic that forced him into his armour before he knew his own name.
This morning, however, as his senses registered the strong arms around him, that panic was quelled before it began. They were the first thing he noticed, before he’d even opened his eyes. He noted the rise and fall of the chest beneath his head, the right side of his face resting on bare skin as his bunkmate breathed. The soft cotton of the bedsheets soon followed, a sharp contrast to the salty sea water in the barrel he usually slept in. A heavy, musky scent that must come from some sort of cologne with how relaxing it was filled his nostrils as he took a deep breath. His ears twitched as they slowly started to pick up the sound of waves crashing into the sides of the Albatross and the creaking that came with it. A deep stretch took control of his body and he finally, finally opened his eyes. Through the porthole he faced came the light of the morning sun and the comforting sight of endless waves. Another breath mirrored his own from beneath his head, but the following voice didn’t surprise Gill in the slightest.
“Morning,” Chip said, voice deep and scratchy from disuse throughout the night, more of a purr than anything else.
“Good morning,” Gill echoed softly, adjusting and burying himself impossibly closer to Chip’s chest.
He lifted the hand that rested across his stomach and moved it to gently grip his bicep. Chip’s gaze rested on him, he could feel it, lazily tracing his movement while he slowly pulled himself out of the warm waters of sleep as he did every morning. For once, Gill’s mind held that same fuzz. Chip hummed and readjusted his grip on Gillion’s waist.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” he commented, closing his eyes and resting his chin on the other’s head.
“I’ve never been like this,” said Gill. “Not in many years.”
Chip’s eyes reopened, eyebrows furrowing. “You used to wake up slow, huh?”
“Of course, as a guppy. I would sleep the day away.” He adjusted his position against Chip’s chest, not picking up on his suspicion. “When I learned of the prophecy, I began training and learned to wake quickly. Danger could strike at any moment, after all, and the Hero of the Deep must be ready to face any threat.”
Gillion’s lips were slightly curled up at the corners, his ears twitching lazily at the creaking of the planks on the Millenium Chipper. It was rare to see him so peaceful, so still. So content. Gillion was the sort of man to always be on the move, always working, always training. He was the very opposite of Chip, who would spend all day fucking around if he could. But this was a moment of peace, a moment where Gillion probably didn’t even realize what he was telling him.
Chip swallowed around a sudden tight ball in his throat, and held Gillion closer.