Chapter Text
The worst thing about this whole situation wasn’t that he couldn’t make progress on his builds. It wasn’t the fact that it all started on a day where it rained at night, so he couldn’t ever fly home. It wasn’t the fact that he had to re-explain the situation to Xisuma every day, hoping that somehow he could remember all the little theories he’d come up with in that time and re-explain it to him in a never-ending loop of questions and nonsense that never went anywhere.
No. The worst part was that he hadn’t even noticed the days had been repeating until the fourth one.
He’d slept until 10:30 that day. Not too late, but later than he’d have liked, usually. It was nice to think he needed the sleep.
He woke up at 10:30, which meant he showed up to the nether hub around noon. His morning routine had devolved into a sort of complete-tasks-as-I-remember-them situation, which meant it tended to take a bit longer and, yeah, he’d usually forget something. It didn’t matter that no one was there to see him realize he had no diorite in his inventory. It was still sort of embarrassing to turn around and go back through the portal he’d just emerged from.
At 12:15, he was back home and rifling through his chests. They were disorganized, and his eyes sorta scanned over everything in a way that probably wasn’t very effective but definitely confirmed that he was mostly out. He hadn’t even realized he was running low.
At 12:30, he was at the shopping district, and of course no one sold stone. It wouldn’t sell; with all the digging and terraforming, there was no way anyone’d ever be low on it. But he was. He probably had some, somewhere, in a chest at one of his in-progress builds that are going to be finished when he’s done with this one. But finding that seemed more overwhelming than just going and mining more, so off he was.
He picked up some quartz from Impulse while he was there. He didn’t know exactly what he’d use it for yet, but it went with the diorite well enough that he had no doubt he’d find a gradient to put it in. He pulled out his communicator to ask if anyone had some extra before putting on his elytra to fly home.
The only person to offer any was Impulse, ironically.
I have like 4 stacks if you need :D
Good, yeah, but not great. Not by a long shot. He thanked Impulse before slipping his communicator back into his pocket and sighing. It was fine. There would always be more days to build, anyway.
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
When he woke up the next morning, he was honestly surprised it was only 10. Well, a little after, but still. He’d been out late last night- probably way too late- and hadn’t noticed he was lost in a huge cavern until most of the other Hermits were asleep. On top of that, it was raining- even if he did get out, the rockets wouldn't light. He’d have to build a boat or swim home, both of which involved getting really wet and tired and both of which sounded worse than just setting up camp in an alcove and hoping nothing too nasty showed up until morning. Then, the light on his communicator illuminated the damp walls around him as a message appeared. It was from Gem.
I'm out fishing right now actually
I can come get you if you want
He shuddered. That boat scared him. She scared him- up in that tower all day with her freaky experiments, and out on the water all night catching freakier fish. But staying in the cave all night was arguably scarier, so he sent her his coordinates with an attached Thank you!! That made him sound way more awake than he was.
He’d managed to retrace his steps out of the cave to the shoreline by the time he saw the dingy red boat in the distance. Its huge rotating light illuminated little but the fast-falling rain around it. He could still hear the engine over the sea and the rain, and he smelled the smog long before it touched down to shore. Maybe the cave had been the safer option.
The boat stopped a few yards from the shore. Looks like he was getting wet, after all.
The skinny metal ladder was wet and creaky, and he was so focused on looking down and making sure he didn’t fall that he yelped in surprise when a hand grabbed him by the scruff of his coat and hauled him over the edge of the boat.
He reached his hands out to grab the side as his feet struggled to find purchase on the slippery floor. The hand still had a vice grip on the back of his coat, holding him up. He heard a signature giggle as his assailant’s other hand- small and pale, with gold rings and blue bangles to match- grabbed his hand to help stabilize him. Gem.
“Haha, look! I caught one!”
Then, from further in front of him, another laugh; lower, breathier, but equally recognizable.
“Mhm. Looks a little small, though. We might have to throw it back,” the voice said with a clear smile.
Etho. What was he doing here?
“Ooh, good point. Looks like it might be a four-footer- I’ll get the measuring tape,” Gem replied, though her hands stayed where they were as Bdubs started to find his footing.
“Now hey, hey, look, I’m not- I am a perfectly average size for my species!” He retorted. He had to shout over the sounds of the pounding rain and sea around them just to be audible. He didn’t imagine he looked too good, then- sagging shoulders, soaked pants, eye bags that never seemed to fully leave him- because they didn’t continue with the badgering.
Gem helped him stand as he looked around him. The boat was tiny; Etho was inside the cabin, hanging a little ways out of an open window. Warm light poured onto the deck from inside. He looked behind him to Gem, who was draped in a huge faded poncho.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you inside, Bdubs”. Her voice was softer, now, even if she was still laughing a little. “You look like a wet cat”.
The cabin was small and cluttered. Etho was sitting towards the back, cleaning blood off of fishhooks with a little rag. He thought he’d hated the overwhelming smell of smoke outside, but the dual aromas of fish and formaldehyde inside were much more unpleasant, even if it was only an undercurrent.
Gem sat him down on a little wooden bench next to a large metal tank in the wall that he assumed was some part of the engine. Whatever it was, it was warm, and he was starting to get cold. He hadn’t even realized he was shivering, until now.
He glanced at the clock hanging from his belt. He hoped it didn’t get waterlogged- he wouldn’t have brung his nicer one, usually, but he didn’t think he’d be mining today. It was approaching two in the morning- he was lucky anyone came for him at all, really.
“Sorry for the, uh. Inconvenience. And everything. And thank you”. He stumbled on his words. Something about her and this boat just freaked him out.
Gem looked up from where she’d become enraptured with some strange-looking fish that was lying on the table with a Hmm?, before a look of realization crossed her face, and her eyes returned to whatever thing she had been examining before.
“Ohhh. Oh yeah, it’s no problem. Probably good, actually, or I would’ve been out all night. Thank Etho- he was the one who saw your message! I might have left you there.”
He could never tell if she was joking. He glanced over at Etho, who was stretching to see whatever Gem was doing on the table, before his eyes flicked to Bdubs’. He huffed a small laugh, and looked back over to Gem.
“Mhm, well, I couldn’t just leave him there. You know how my boy needs his sleep.”
Gem made a fake gagging sound before snipping something on the fish with the long, silver scissors in her hand. He swore he saw her roll her eyes before wiping the scissors on the rag and placing them back on the table with a small clink.
“Yeah, yeah. Well why don’t you dry your boy off while I put us back on course?” With that, she pulled on the hood of her poncho, and headed towards the door.
“Should be about an hour”, she said, before swinging the door open, allowing the sound of the thundering rain to pour inside. “Don’t miss me too much!”
With that, the door swung shut, and it was just him, the cold, and Etho’s presence, still hovering in the corner.
Etho finished wiping the fishhooks down, but he didn’t stand up quite yet. Over the rain, he heard the sound of metal on metal. Gem must have been hoisting the anchor.
“Does she, uh- need help?” Bdubs asked through chattering teeth. Etho laughed and finally stood up, walking over to the window.
“Nah, probably not. She’s out here on her own all the time.” He spared a look at Bdubs, and he saw his smile grow under the mask. “Not sure you’re in much of a state to help her, anyway”.
His indignant Hey! was overcome by a sneeze as water found its way into Bdubs’ nose. Etho laughed again, bright and beautiful, before latching the window. The sound of the rain quieted, but he could still hear its patter on the roof, the waves beating on the walls around him. Footsteps, too- that must have been Gem, up in the wheel compartment, now.
He was so in his own head, he didn’t notice Etho standing in front of him until the rag was already on his head. He wasn’t gentle about it- he aggressively ruffled through Bdubs’ sopping hair, before moving down to his face. It smelled like chemicals and fish and he did not want that on his face, water and cold be damned.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bdubs said, leaning back. “Cool it with the fish gut rags!”
“It’s clean”.
“Nothing in here is ‘clean’”.
But Etho raised it again, and yeah, Bdubs let him dry his face anyway. Etho was gentler now, though. He let his eyes fall closed as the rag moved over them, and hey, with the low light and the patter of the rain, it felt nice to keep them that way.
“You often find yourself fishing with Gem late into the night?” He murmured. He didn’t mean for it to sound jealous. It did.
“You hate fishing,” Etho said as the rag dragged over his scruff. It was abrasive, and itchy, and God it was almost horrible how easily Etho could read him sometimes. It was definitely unfair, if nothing else. And yeah, he hated the boats and the bait and the smell of fish, but it’s nice to be invited anyway. “Come with us tomorrow. She likes you.”
“Well, maybe I don’t like her,” He replied, opening his eyes to half-glare at Etho. That wasn’t true either. Gem was lovely to be around; yeah, she freaked him out, and she was sort of mean sometimes, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love when they’d riff off each other, digging into Etho in a way that was really only possible with the innovative insults of a young 20-something-year-old. And she made Etho happy. He gets to be a sassy teenage girl with her in a way he probably enjoys too much, and Bdubs probably enjoys seeing too much. Etho in his full glory.
Etho sighed, the rag stilling by the edge of his chin. “Bdubs”.
Even when he tried to be firm, his face was always a little unsure. It was unfair, really, how even when they were having a back-and-forth, Bdubs’ head was half-overtaken with thoughts of just how pretty Etho was. Even through the wet hair, tired eyes, pained expression- twelve years, and he could never get tired of looking at it.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m sorry,” He said, looking down. Etho didn’t say anything, but a bit of relief spread over his face. This was the closest they ever came to acknowledging it; the brewing tension that sometimes crept in when the day was just a little too long and the sun got a little too low in the sky.
Etho flung the rag down on the bench next to him, but his hand lingered near his face. He could feel its warmth hovering near his cheek; he almost closed his eyes to lean into it, before remembering he should probably decide if he’s going to be mad at him tonight or not, first.
But Etho decides for him. His hand moves over his cheek- light, tentative, not really pressing in but not really pulling away. And yeah, he was annoyed at something or the other, but he relaxed into it anyway. As soon as he did, he realized there was very, very little chance of him finding the energy to talk about anything right now. Another day, then.
He let out a deep, bone-tired sigh, and Etho laughed as Bdubs’ cold, wet breath fanned over his wrist. His laugh- another thing he could hear a million times and never get tired of.
“I would have welcomed your company,” Etho said, voice lower, now. His warm thumb drew circles into his cheekbones, and it was hard not to relax into it. “Gem’s a better fisher than me.”
“Oh, so what, you want me here to make you look better?” Bdubs laughed. Etho did, too, but it wasn’t a real one, not fully. Even with the mask, with how often Etho laughed, you could tell when he really meant it. A half-assed one could never compare to the real thing.
“Sorry,” he said, a little too defeated for it to be completely a joke, or completely about the fishing. And yeah, okay, maybe Bdubs felt a little bad. “I do want you around.”
It was a little aggravating, really, how good it felt to hear him say it. Guess he was settling for not mad tonight. Well, never mad- it was complicated, with Etho. Sad might have been the answer, but sad was worse, so he could be mad, for now.
“I know, I know,” Bdubs said. He wanted to say they’d talk about it later, but he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to do that, so he settled with, “Catch anything interesting today?”
“Sort of, actually,” Etho said, and Bdubs was eternally grateful he let the topic change. “Gem found a nautilus shell today- thinks it’s only a few years old, if that.”
He relaxed into Etho’s hand and listened to him talk for a bit. It was hard not to be relaxed when his voice got like that, all low and smooth, and his thumb was still rubbing circles into his cheek.
He talked about how maybe the creatures that lived inside the shells weren’t an extinct, ancient creatures, that they’ve just been finding old shells that floated to the surface or pocketed them off the beings that had Drowned millennia ago. He talked about migration and fishing depth and all the weird reasons they could be reappearing, and Bdubs didn’t really understand it, but he didn’t really think Etho did either, so he was perfectly content to lay there as he parroted Gem’s notes back to him. His eyes had drifted closed, at some point.
“You’re not listening to a word of this, are you,” Etho laughed. His other hand came up to cup his face, and it was warm, and he was cold. Etho was warm.
“Not a word,” Bdubs admitted with a matching laugh. It was just nice to sit and listen to Etho talk, sometimes. They were always doing something, it felt like- no time for him to just relax and enjoy the solid presence of Etho beside him. Maybe it was that they weren’t really together by themselves all that often, nowadays. He’d need to rectify that, he thought.
He was starting to dry off, finally, and the heat of the tank was helping with the pain that had been radiating across his back all day. But dry didn’t mean warm, and shivers still wracked his body as the boat rocked across the ocean.
Etho’s hand left his face, and before he could voice his displeasure, he heard the sound of Etho shuffling his jacket off. He drew it around Bdubs’ shoulders, and it was just as warm as Etho’s hands had been, so he couldn’t find it in himself to complain.
“You kill a moose to make this, or something?” Bdubs muttered through half-closed eyes. He pulled it more tightly around his shoulders as he shivered a bit more. He wanted to tell Etho he didn’t need it, that he had his own jacket, but he knew Etho wasn’t going to hear it, so he wasn’t gonna waste energy saying it. Etho’s hands found his face again. They smelled like redstone, even after a day on the water. Or maybe that was just how he smelled all the time, after all these years.
“It’s okay. We should be home soon,” he murmured. The thought occurred to him that if this had happened two years ago, Etho probably would have kissed him by now, just as a little I’m-sorry-you’re-cold-and-wet gesture. He knows there’s some reason he’s not, but he can’t for the life of him think of it now. He was too tired. Etho was too warm.
He brings his hand up to cover Etho’s hand, still warm on his cheek, and lightly laces their fingers together. He’s not looking at Etho, but he can imagine his face when Bdubs turns his head to press his lips to the inside of his wrist by the way he says “Bdubs.” Like he can’t decide if it’s supposed to be a warning or a plea.
He brings his other hand up to Etho’s waist and moves to kiss his way up his arm before Etho can inevitably overthink it and pull away. Whatever was wrong, this- this was more important, surely.
His hands twitch on Bdubs’ face, like he’s stuck between leaning into Bdubs’ touch and bolting out into the rain. But judging by the way he whines when Bdubs sucks a bit of skin between his teeth, he doesn’t seem inclined to pull away, somehow. It doesn’t matter, though- Bdubs doesn’t get more than four inches up his arm before the boat comes to a sudden stop and he stumbles forward off of the bench.
The engine dies down as he hears footsteps start overhead. Etho caught him before he could really hit the floor, and upon looking up at him, Bdubs could see the blush peeking over the mask. Before he can say anything, though, the door crashes open, and Etho shoves him back down into his seat.
Gem looks between the two of them, for a second, but elects to not say anything, which he’s eternally grateful for. She looks tired, too, now, and she yawns before gesturing out the door and saying, “Bdubs. Your cottage awaits”.
He thanked her, and stood up. He was almost halfway out the door before he realized he was still wearing Etho’s jacket. He struggled out of it before tossing it back to Etho. He caught Gem’s raised eyebrows and slight smirk out of the corner of his eye, and now he was the one turning red, like he was some teenager. He needed to get out of here.
“G’night, Etho,” He said. “Gem.”
Etho’s small “night” was overpowered by the sound of rain and Gem’s much louder, “Goodnight, Bdubs!”. She wiggled her fingers at him in a weird sort of wave before the cabin door closed in his face.
He’d stumbled in during the early hours of the morning, exhausted, throwing his shulkers of diorite on the floor by the door before collapsing onto his bed. Sleep was always hard to come by, nowadays, after seeing Etho. He should apologize. He should say anything, really.
The only thing that puts his mind to rest is the knowledge that it’s ultimately fine to say absolutely nothing. It’s so expected that it’d probably be worse if he did say anything. It’s always been like this- for whatever reason, be it habit, fear, lack of need- they don’t talk.