In the week since they departed from Trolvbard, Drift was pretty sure Cove had decided to try and be as obnoxious as humanly possible. Complaining about every single fucking thing and ordering Drift to do most of his chores for him.

“He’s seeing where the limit is,” Fletch explained with a laugh as Drift and Fletch shared a cigarette one starry night up in the cramped crow’s nest, their legs hanging over the edge.

“Meaning?” Drift frowned, taking a long drag and watching the calm white clouds disperse in front of them, the red sails of the Akashi fluttering peacefully.

“He wants to know how much of his brattiness you can take before you hurt him again,” Fletch sighed.

“You’ve been chatting with Doctor Benny haven’t you?” Drift rolled his eyes. “You always sound more pretentious after hanging out with him.”

“He’s not too bad,” Fletch smiled softly, “he’s been teaching me to read you know?”

“I didn’t know you couldn’t?” Drift looked in surprise at his friend. “Why’d you never tell me?”

“Never came up,” Fletch shrugged. “But I was on duty in the medical room with the Doc one day and he asked me to alphabetize his medicine bottles. Obviously I couldn’t and so he found out. Didn’t make fun of me though, like I figured he would. He just offered to teach me, he’s got a whole load of books in his quarters.”

“He lets you in his quarters?” Drift smiled as his friend’s face went tomato red.

“Shut up,” Fletch laughed, shoving playfully at Drift’s side.

“Anyway, you’re one to talk,” Fletch grinned.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Drift narrowed his eyes, “I haven’t taken any company in months.”

“You sleep with a beautiful boy every night,” Fletch snorted.

“That’s not the same,” Drift snapped, feeling heat cloud his own cheeks. “We’re just bunkmates.”

“You could have gotten another hammock by now,” Fletch laughed, shaking his head. “There’s plenty in the other bunkrooms.”

“He gets cold,” Drift swallowed thickly, reaching over to pop the cork off a small bottle of rum they had brought up with them. “There’s not enough fat on him.”

“Come on Drift,” Fletch groaned, “you go mental every time someone else goes near him. You nearly took Gordy’s hand off the other day in the kitchen when he patted Cove’s head.”

“I don’t –“ Drift sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. “Look yes, okay I find Cove attractive. We work together all day in close quarters and he’s beautiful and soft and delicate and –“

“And you like him,” Fletch lifted up his own bottle.

“What? Jesus no!” Drift exclaimed, screwing his face up. “He annoys the shit out of me. Just the other day he told me I breathe too loud. Breathe too loud Fletch.” Drift repeated for emphasis.

“Uh huh,” Fletch smiled, taking another swig of rum and looking serenely out across the night sky.

“He swears like a sailor,” Drift adds.

“He is a sailor,” Fletch laughs.

“Yeah, but,” Drift pauses, “I mean some of the things that come out of his mouth Fletch, it’s unseemly. He’s got this angelic face and those huge cute puppy dog eyes and then he starts swearing worse than a Farakian dockyard worker.”

“Mm,” Fletch nodded.

“Plus he complains, dear god does he complain all – the – fucking – time,” Drift was half shouting now, “he never thinks about anybody but himself and blames all of his problems on other people. Nothing is ever his fault.”

“Yup,” Fletch nodded again.

“Also he’s ridiculously precious. The water in the showers is too cold for him, he won’t undress in front of other people. He literally makes me stand outside to keep watch and warn him if anyone’s coming. He says the clothes we bought him are too scratchy and the boots are too big. He won’t do rope duty because it gives his hands blisters but he won’t do stock duty either because he doesn’t like the smell in the store rooms!”

Drift turned to Fletch wide-eyed as if appealing for his friend to understand just how ridiculously annoying the silver haired boy could be.

“You like him,” Fletch grinned against the lip of the rum bottle. “You just haven’t figured it out yet.”

“You’re insane,” Drift shook his head disbelievingly

“He gets jealous too by the way,” Fletch added as Drift stood up to clamber indignantly out of the crow’s nest and slide down the mast.

“Huh?” Drift paused to look questioningly at the other boy.

“Cove,” Fletch smiled widely, yawning and stretching out his arms, leaning back against the wood. “When other people touch you he gives them the cold shoulder for days afterwards. Only because he’s such a pissy little bitch most of the time anyway, no one notices he’s doing it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Drift muttered.

“Try it if you don’t believe me,” Fletch shrugged, “flirt with someone in front of him and see what happens.”

“And who exactly am I going to flirt with?” Drift asked, cursing himself for not just dismissing the idea outright.

“Well,” Fletch grinned, pulling his hands together and resting them under his chin. “I thought you’d never ask.”