It had been a week since the ‘Grog’ incident and to Drift’s great relief, Cove hadn’t been able to remember anything from that night, whether it be singing along to sky shanties, devouring an entire chocolate bar in one gulp or…

or well ‘that’.

Drift understood, Cove had barely been awake at the time and Drift had just been a nearby warm body to grind up against. It happened to most bunkmates, only they didn’t have the excuse of being blackout drunk the next morning. Drift consoled his conscience with the fact that he had tried to leave and he hadn’t touched the younger boy in any way. It was just Cove had…finished…quicker than Drift had been expecting. The whole affair had been done and dusted and Cove was happily snoring beside him faster Drift could do anything about it.

The next morning the silver haired boy had been back to his usual acerbic self, snapping and insulting anyone who tried to get near him.

Fletch had fixed Drift with a curious look as he noticed the smudged chocolate stains across the entire lower half of Cove’s face.

“He got into my bag when I wasn’t looking,” Drift had shrugged.

“Little shit,” Fletch had tutted, shaking his head and patting Drift on the back in commiseration.

That day, Drift knew the junk would be winding its way through the airbourne glaciers of Bjarne. Shin had let him take a look through the telescope, the colossal, treacherous towers of cloudbergs pillaring up on the horizon.

“We could just take the longer route?” Drift suggested hopefully. “Go around the cirrus lakes to the west?”

“And miss the fur markets? Not a chance,” Shin shook his head. “The Akashi will get through,” he patted the wheel approvingly before nodding that Drift was dismissed.

Drift walked back into Salt Room where the others were stretched out talking shit about various crewmates. Cove was in the corner, playing with a pair of compasses that belonged to Drift.

“They’re broken,” Cove announced miserably as he noticed Drift enter the room. “Trust you to buy cheap rubbish.”

“They’re not broken,” Drift huffed, feeling himself bristle.

“They’re not pointing north,” Cove insisted, jumping up and bringing the compasses over to prove it to Drift. “Look, this one’s blue needle is pointing that way – that’s east!”

Drift rolled his eyes and plucked one of the compasses out of Cove’s hand before walking back around the younger boy to stand on his other side. “And what about now?”

“Hey!” Cove frowned, “now it’s pointing west?”

“They’re companion compasses,” Drift explained, “the blue needles point to where the other one is.”

“That’s –“ Cove paused and looked up at Drift through thick lashes, “so fucking pointless. Why would you ever need that?”

Drift shook his head, not even bothering to dignify such stupidity with a reply. He pocketed the second compass before walking over to his chest and yanking off his sweatshirt. He heard Cove let out a frustrated exhale behind him.

Drift ignored him, reaching up to start doing pull ups on one of the ceiling beams.

“We crossing the glacier then?” Fletch asked, not looking up from a book. It was unusual to see books on board, Drift figured the green haired boy must have nabbed it either from the captain’s office or the doctor’s rooms, the latter seemed more likely.

“Looks like it,” Drift grunted in reply, lifting himself up as his biceps flexed.

“Dangerous time of year for that course,” Robbo nodded thoughtfully, opening a tin of tobacco and starting to roll a cigarette.

“We need to hit Lonkso before the fur markets start,” Drift explained. “Captain’s hoping we make a killing off that load we picked up months ago in Tilifray.”

“Are you quite done sweating over everyone?”

Drift dropped down to the floor and looked over in surprise at Cove. The other boy was standing with his arms crossed, his face haughty and impassive. “Only, we’re meant to be on galley cleanup duty in three minutes.”

“Shit,” Robbo snorted up at Drift, “you just got schooled.”

Drift shook his head in disbelief as Cove raised his eyebrows questioningly at him, his mouth drawn into a tight line.

“Sure thing your highness,” Drift managed to make himself laugh, turning round to grab a shirt before waving out his hand in an exaggerated gesture for Cove to lead the way.

“Ugh,” Cove huffed, turning on his heels and storming out of the room. “You’re the one that always scolds me if I’m late to duties!”

“Better get a move on Drift,” Fletch laughed, “your little wifey looks like he might pop a gasket.”

“Shut up,” Drift snapped, kicking Fletch’s book out of his hands before hurrying off after Cove.

“Covey!” Gordon cried out enthusiastically as the two of them entered the kitchens.

“Covey?” Drift screwed his face up in a grimace as he turned to Cove who was flushing.

“Fuck off,” Cove cleared his throat, pushing past Drift with a sharp elbow and rolling up his sleeves. “Where do you want us to start Gordy?”

“Well all those pots and pans need a wash and dry,” Gordy motioned to a towering mountain of iron and copper vessels.

“Right,” Cove nodded matter of factly before gesturing to Drift, “I’ll wash – you dry.”

Drift bit down a smile, he never saw Cove more industrious than in the kitchen. Most of the time the brat tried to get away with only doing half his duties, but in here it was almost of a matter of stubborn pride that he would do his best to get the galley spick and span.

Cove ran the sink full of hot water and bubbles before grabbing a sponge and scrubbing hard at the caked on residue of last night’s grub.

“Sure you don’t want me to do that job?” Drift asked as Cove started to show signs of tiring after the sixth pan.

“No,” Cove snapped, “I’m not weak.”

Drift rolled his eyes, about to tell Cove that that hadn’t been what he was implying, he was simply offering to help with the clearly harder task. All Drift had to do was wipe the clean pans down with a rag, he wasn’t exactly exerting himself.

“You’re always trying to show off,” Cove continued, “it’s kind of pathetic really.”

Drift bit the inside of his cheek hard and threw the dishcloth down, folding his arms angrily across his chest as Cove continued unabashed. “I don’t quite know what you’re trying to compensate for but –“

That was it, Drift felt his patience snap. No one had ever wound him up like this before. He felt an animalistic growl rip through his throat as he spun a shocked looking Cove around and pinned him against the sink, twisting his hands behind his back.

“You-“ Drift snarled, leaning further in as Cove’s pale blue eyes widened, the younger boy almost looked scared before he managed to school his features back into a defiant expression.

“Me?” Cove let out a humourless laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to show off for my sake? To inspire me to be a better part of this crew or something? Is that why you’re always parading about half naked and volunteering to carry barrels or climb the rigging?”

“Stop trying to piss me off,” Drift stated firmly, crowding closer against Cove and watching the other boy try to squirm out of his grip. Drift heard himself emit a derisive, nasty laugh, it didn’t sound anything like his usual self. “And you say you’re not weak?”

“Get off me you thug!” Cove shouted, gasping as he twisted and tried to pull his wrists out of Drift’s firm grasp.

“And you say I’m pathetic?” Drift muttered, finally loosening his grip. “No wonder your aunt sold you when she could.”

The slap was hard and solid, thwacking against Drift’s cheek and sending him into shocked silence.

Cove was stood in front of him, his face blotchy and red, his chest heaving with panting breaths.

“Did you just-“ Drift began before his saw Cove’s eyes, filled with unshed tears he was straining not to let fall.

“I hate you,” Cove choked out, his voice breaking half way through.

Drift brought his fingers up ready to cradle his own stinging cheek but for some reason his hand moved without his brain’s permission. Instead, the calloused pad of his thumb ending up brushing against Cove’s clenched and trembling jaw.

Cove’s eyes widened further as he violently smacked Drift’s hand away.

“I’m-“ Drift began when the entire ship lurched forwards causing both boys to be thrown across the galley.