Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chip grabbed a rose from a nearby table. The sight of it made him frown. Its petals were too bright, with one too many dewdrops resting on each fold; its stem was too smooth and too firm, holding neither flaw nor thorn; its leaf was large and proud, almost arrogant, flowing with life that made it seem as if its roots were still buried in the soil. The rose was perfect. Too perfect for such a crowded, noisy, energetic tavern such as this. It ought to be in a king's garden or the bouquet of a newly-wedded couple, with the other too-perfect roses that looked just like it.

Ah, whatever. The young pirate shrugged off the uncannily perfect appearance of the rose. A too-perfect rose is still a perfect rose . He twirled the rose in his hand, racking his brains for potential use for this beauty of a flower, counting off the possibilities with mental, imaginary fingers. It certainly wouldn't do as a decoration for the Huge Chipper (heh, the thought of Chip's future and hopefully majestic ship alone made him smile, along with the piles and piles of gold he'll be getting along with it); it was only one rose, and he was yet to see a place in the town where he could find roses as beautiful as the one in his hands. Maybe as some sort of decoration on his clothes? Yes. That'll do just nicely. The flower could be sewn into his shirt like a pin, or something. After all, the townspeople owe him so much for saving their poor, poor town (even if he did almost none of the work, but hey, that's beside the point); what's it to them if he wanted a new shirt along with his ship? 

"That is a nice flower." A loud, deep baritone suddenly piped up from somewhere behind Chip, causing the young pirate to violently jump in surprise. The rose almost slipped through his fingers. He turned around to face the damned triton, the smug smirk previously growing on his face evaporated from his lips faster than the blink of an eye.

"Really, Gillion," Chip scowled at the other, the light and almost amused tone in his voice betraying the mask of irritation on his face. "Don't just surprise me like that next time, man."

"I am sorry, Chip," Gillion quietly replied in his formal tone, humbly bowing his head as he usually does when he apologizes. "Next time, I will let you know that I am approaching you before I actually approach you. Keep your ears out in the future for something along the lines of: 'I am Gillion Tidestrider, and I am going to–' "

"No, no, there's no need for that, please don't – " Chip frantically waved his free hand in front of Gillion's face, interrupting the announcement that was spilling out of the triton's moist lips. Gillion blinked, taken aback and visibly confused at the contradictory orders and mixed messages the young pirate was sending. Several pairs of eyes glanced at the two of them, some intrigued by the announcement Gillion was about to say, some surprised at the volume and the almost-regal tone in the triton's voice. Chip tried his best to ignore them, as well as the rising heat to his cheeks.

As soon as Gillion finally decided to shut up, Chip dropped his hand and sighed heavily. "Ah, you know what, never mind all that!" His eyes dropped from Gillion's increasingly bewildered expression to the thing the other was holding in one hand – a tankard filled with a golden, translucent liquid.

"You drink?" Chip frowned once more, his eyes still fixated at the alcoholic beverage in Gillion's – Gillion's! – hand. The triton furrowed his eyebrows, blinked, and cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his mind of the other's confusing and conflicting wants.

"It tastes almost exactly like the liquid we once had in the Big Chipper ." Gillion lifted the tankard to his lips and took a long sip of the drink, narrowing his eyes in an almost conspiratorial manner. He swallowed. "The blood of Wheat." 

"The blood of what, now– oh ." Chip twisted his face into a wicked, knowing grin before widening his eyes in horror. "How… I'm almost afraid to ask this, hah, but... exactly how many mugs of this blood did you drink already?"

Gillion stared straight into the other's eyes and gestured to the tankard. "This is my seventeenth mug if I recall correctly."

What.

"D-Did you say seventeenth ?!" Chip's eyes threatened to fall out of their sockets. Seventeen mugs. What. Wow. He's barely five feet tall and he's still not slurring his words. "G-Gillion, my man, you, uh, you don't need to drink that much, y'know…"

"I am doing this for the sake of the townspeople." Gillion's eyes shone with the valor and heroism Chip knew all too well. "When I saw that Earl was just freely serving mugs and crates and barrels of this heinous evil to everyone, it took me all my self-restraint to keep myself from unsheathing my sword and smiting the evildoer on the spot. I, however, remembered your speech in the woods earlier, and instead opted for a more peaceful and less violent way of vanquishing this evil, along with dozens of my heroic brothers and sisters." He then gestured his free hand to the other people in the tavern drinking their own beverages as they celebrate with genuine joy, slamming their tankards together or on the tables, the liquids inevitably spilling out the sides of the mugs.

"I…" Chip was. Speechless. To say the least. Normally, this would've been such a hilarious situation for him to absolutely lose his shit at, but he was just too awestruck at the sheer power of the triton before he had. Seventeen full tankards of strong alcohol and yet Gillion's eyes were still shining with the clarity and focus only Gillion Tidestrider had. God, not even Chip himself could've had that many drinks and still be able to form coherent sentences; and he liked to think of himself as a heavy drinker. "...Oooooookay."

His train of thought, which included the Black Rose Pirates, drinking games, and eating competitions, suddenly got interrupted by the wild cheering and applause erupting in the tavern. The two pirates glanced around confusedly, wondering as to why the townspeople just randomly burst into euphoric applause when the tavern’s live band consisting mostly of half-elves and halflings gradually started a new song. It was a much, much different tune than the shanty they were performing before; it was slower, tender, and despite the rather crudely-built instruments of the band, much more pleasing to the ears. And Chip thought that as a pirate who grew up with pirates whose only idea of music is sea shanties and labor songs, which were loud and energetic in nature.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Julian stand up from a rather large, round table and run a hand over his pompadour. He then held out his hand to Abigail, his other hand behind his back as he bowed slightly. The halfling laughed in amusement, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and stood up as well, intertwining her fingers with Julian’s. With glowing grins on their faces, the two practically skipped to the part of the tavern with neither tables nor chairs, joining and melting with the other pairs and couples who have now stood up to dance to the song. 

“This is a slower song.” Gillion’s deep voice piped up as he once again stated the obvious. Chip glanced over to the triton, who had his eyebrows furrowed only slightly, his eyes lidded with an all-too-familiar glint of curiosity as he tried to comprehend the world around him. A fish out of the water hip noted with an amused grin.

He buried a hand in his pocket, the other playing with the too-perfect rose’s stem. “That, my friend, is a couple’s song.” Chip recognized the slow tempo and graceful rhythm of the tune, similar to the songs he and Elizabeth used to practice dancing to on the Black Rose.

Gillion’s eyes widened in recognition. “This is the song people on land dance to?”

“Well, it’s not the only song,” Chip said, waving the rose around a little to emphasize his words. “There are other songs to dance to, of course, but this sort of song specifically is for couples to ballroom dance to, usually.”

The triton hummed in understanding. “The dancing songs in the sea sound a lot different than this. We use more wind instruments and fewer strings, and in some instances, trumpets and other horns.”

“Wind instruments? Under water ?” Chip widened his eyes incredulously. When Gillion nodded in deadpanned affirmation, he had to stifle a laugh. “Okay, buddy. I’ll take your word for it.”

When Gillion did not offer any sort of reply, opting instead to stay silent and observe the dance, Chip followed his gaze towards the part of the tavern occupied by partners and couples all dancing along to the band's slow tune. Almost everyone in the tavern, save for a few who were either physically unable to dance or who did not know how to dance at all, were paired up and performing graceful waltzes as if they were not in a pub, but instead in a grand ballroom. Chip had to applaud the townspeople for their enthusiasm and stamina; one would think that after such a chaotically arranged song and dance number, they would all be drenched in sweat and panting in exhaustion. Not one face in Loffinlot had a drop of sweat on it, and the only breaths coming out of the people's lips were genuine laughs and sighs of relief.

Not that Chip wanted to admit it, but he was sort of glad that Gillion freed these people of their disease, even if the whole problem of this "Wish Doctor" suddenly became their problem.

A hand – a moist hand – brushed against his own, and before Chip knew it, his hand was clasped over metal armor, the strong and firm stem of the too-perfect rose pressed under the palm, and his fingers were intertwined with unusually scaly ones. Before he could even comprehend what the fuck was going on, bright, blue eyes were boring straight into his own, aflame with an almost scary sort of determination one has never seen before.

"Gillion, what in the- ?! " His indignant words died on his tongue as he properly felt, for the first time, the texture of the wet, scaly yet smooth skin wrapped around his hand and mingling with the skin on his fingers, flawed from years of labor and travel. 

His heart stopped and dropped like a rock into the pits of his stomach, right then and there.

"This ought to do," the triton declared under his breath, adjusting his hold on Chip's waist so that it wasn't as much of a tight grip as it was a gentle caress. "Is this how you people position yourselves before dancing?"

" Gillion… " Chip swallowed hard, ignoring the sound of his pounding heart in his ears as well as the – what the fuck?! – unexpected color rising to his cheeks. He couldn't even think of a clever quip or something similarly humorous to deflect the, um, current situation . "The… um… the taller guy is the guy who has their hand on the other guy's waist. I, uh, I think."

Chip blanched as soon as the words spilled out of him. Shit, did I really just do that?! Did I just give Gillion advice on how to make this situation even worse?! He's gonna assume I tolerate this… this… this!

"We are of the same height, Chip," the triton replied coolly as he stared into Chip’s brown eyes, his pupils still ablaze with the courage so often present in them. "I don't think it will matter who will be holding whose waist."

Before Chip can retort that yes , it will very much matter because he wasn't about to fucking dance a fucking couple's dance with Gillion fucking Tidestrider , Gillion had already swept him off his feet in a graceful and grandiose box step, leading him into the part of the tavern denser with different kinds of partners and couples dancing, keeping perfectly on time with the tempo of the band's song. With his muscles all seized up and frozen in shock, Chip had no choice but to follow the triton’s lead. 

He is leading me to my demise , Chip thought in a maniacal frenzy, his eyes wide as he stared into the ocean blue irises boring holes into his soul. He’s one of those sirens, those crazy assholes luring pirates into their deaths using their charm. Wait. Charm ?! Did I just indirectly think of Gillion goddamned Tidestrider as charming ?!

Freeing himself from the triton’s grasp, however, was futile, and Chip knew better than to even think of attempting to do just that. Gillion’s fingers were squeezing him too tightly, but not to the point where his grip hurt, and the steadfast hold on his waist exuded dedication to their current… activity. Besides, even if Chip were able to let go of Gillion’s firm grasp on him, the young pirate wouldn’t have been able to get far enough to escape awkwardness in this part of the tavern; the feeling of being crushed between the bodies of the other partners and couples dancing was something not unlike the feeling of tidal wave after tidal wave crashing upon his body, except with more fabric and irritated swears directed at him.

Sighing to himself, Chip blinked and finally let his shoulders relax. Well, he definitely didn’t expect to be sharing a couple’s dance with anyone tonight, especially not with Gillion Tidestrider, but I guess he’ll just have to roll with it. Not that he had a choice, or anything.

The song continued in its slow, passionate rhythm, and the partners and the couples in the tavern continued dancing along to the music. Unfortunately, or so Chip thought at first, one of those partners who continued to dance were he and Gillion. However, despite the loud commotion in the tavern and the pounding of his heart in his ears, Chip, in his state of perceptual oversensitivity, couldn't help but notice the minuscule details around him, the minuscule details directly in front of him. He noticed Gillion's exceptional skill in ballroom dancing, his feet expertly stepping in all the right places; Chip had to make an extreme effort to not accidentally step on the other's toes. He noticed that Gillion's fingers were still wet, despite his exertion not only in the dance but also in that Wish Doctor's place. He noticed Gillion's face, Gillion's exceptionally valiant face, was positively shining in the light of the tavern, and the corners of his lips quirked up in a small, polite small.

Chip didn't notice it, but he was definitely mirroring that smile.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Gillion suddenly piped up, his baritone soft enough for only the young pirate to hear, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern. Chip blinked at the abruptness of the question, then let out an equally soft chuckle.

"Nah, man, you aren't. You're alright." The Chip only two minutes ago would have begged to differ, but the Chip now? Well. Not so much. Not that he wanted to admit it, but dancing to a song meant for couples to dance to with Gillion was… nice. It was definitely a much different experience than what he was used to (dancing with Elizabeth or practicing with the other Black Rose pirates was not so much as enjoyable as it is an ordeal), but he realized that he enjoyed this sort of dancing much, much more. It was less chaotic, less playful, even – dare he say it? – a lot more intimate . And he was enjoying it.

"I'm glad to hear that," Gillion smiled, – since when did that smile become so radiant? – looking sincerely relieved. It was a moment or two before he spoke again. "I know how it feels to be dragged into a dance you do not wish to partake in."

Chip had to stifle a laugh. Ironic . "Really? Did you go on a lot of dances while you were in the sea?"

Gillion nodded, his eyes suddenly clouding with a sort of… sadness that Chip couldn't put his finger on. Melancholy? Nostalgia, perhaps? 

"My masters and mentors often got invited to many noble and royal banquets, and they always made sure that they dragged me along, as well. Perhaps they meant it as an exposure activity of some sort." Gillion chuckled, but it wasn't the kind of chuckle Chip liked to hear from him; it was sardonic, almost. "I never liked going to them. I saw them as a hindrance to my training; nothing but a distraction to what I sought the most. And along with every royal banquet were dances. I was taught the art of dancing by my mentors, of course, but I never liked it as much as my usual training. And the partners I frequently danced with in those banquets were… undesirable, to say the least. At least to me. Despite them wishing and making it seem like they were."

Chip barked out a laugh. "Were your partners usually women?"

To his surprise, Gillion shook his head. "I danced with nobilities and different members of the royal family, usually. Males or females alike, they never really stood out to me, especially not when we were dancing together. The men usually held a façade of courage and pride over their arrogant, pompous faces, and the calluses on their hands were hidden under rich fabric and different sorts of concealers. The women, on the other hand…" Here Gillion trailed off.

The look of slight disgust on the triton's face wasn't lost on Chip. Weird , the young pirate thought. I was sure that Gillain was the kind of person who had ladies literally swarming all around him. Not that he's. Uh. I'm gonna stop my train of thought right there.

Gillion, sensing the bewilderment and the frenzy going on in Chip's head, immediately backtracked. "It is not that I do not like women, no. It is just that the women of the noble and royal families were too… much."

As they continued their dance, the triton went on a spiel about how the noble and royal women underwater were too extravagant to his liking, but Chip was barely hearing it. His mind had long since wandered from their current conversation, and he couldn’t find it in himself to pull it back into the present. He didn’t even know why he was making such a big deal out of such a short statement. And yet he was. As usual, he was overthinking something that did not matter to him. Nope. Not at all. Not even in the slightest.

Gillion liked women. So what? So what if he liked women? That was none of Chip’s business. Gillion’s romantic and/or sexual preferences were absolutely none of Chip’s business. Besides, Chip agreed with him about his preference towards women! And yet, despite all the (empty) reassurances and (insincere) condolences he was telling himself, Chip still felt his insides churn at the thought of Gillion liking women. Why though?! Why did he suddenly care so much about who the triton liked and didn’t like? And why – gods, why – did he feel the faintest hints of devastation when he heard Gillion explicitly say that he did not dislike women? It wasn’t as if he meant that he only liked women, right? For all he knew, Gillion could be bi, or even pan, or whatever. Gillion could be into both guys and gals with that statement, couldn’t he? And following that logical line of reasoning, Chip might have a chance with him, after all!

Wait. What?

“Are you alright, Chip?” Gillion’s deep voice dripped with concern. Chip snapped back into reality from the sheer tenacity of the other’s voice. “You look troubled.”

Chip laughed again at the triton’s tendency to state the obvious, but his laugh this time was just a touch more forced. “No, no, I’m not, don’t worry,” Chip blatantly lied, deliberately ignoring the incredibly peculiar knot in his stomach. He decided to do what he did best: using humor to deflect whatever the fuck he was feeling. “I just, heh, I just thought that you were the type of guy who’s used to tons and tons of ladies flocking around you.”

Gillion’s expression was as serious as ever. “I do.” Before Chip could even spontaneously burst into laughter (and something else entirely), the triton continued. “I won’t shy from saying that men do, as well.” (Here, Chip’s heart made a weird fucking somersault.) “However, as I said, none of them were ever desirable to me.”

So… he’s not into anyone at all? Before Chip could even furrow his eyebrows and ask for clarification, Gillion continued. “I believe what I am trying to say is that the idea of courtship, in general, never appealed to me while I was in training. I thought of romantic relationships as a hindrance and a distraction to my end goal, alongside royal and noble banquets.” 

The triton then frowned, looking as if he was deeply contemplating something. After a moment, Gillion finally spoke, slowly, carefully. The young pirate found himself hanging on to every word. “I suppose if I wasn’t currently in training, I would have considered entertaining the possibility of being in a romantic relationship. Perhaps I would have even courted one of the nobles. However, as it was…” 

Gillion trailed off once more, biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes glazed over in deep thought. His feet never missed a step. Chip’s tongue did not cooperate with his desire to say something, anything ; his mind was in a frenzy of racing thoughts and emotions and feelings he just couldn’t quite place a finger on. He tried, oh , did he desperately try to ignore all of the sensations he wasn’t necessarily okay with, for one reason or another, whatever those reasons may be. For just a moment too long, there was nothing but silence between the two dancing pirates – save for the chatter in the tavern and the music the band was playing, of course – but it was clear that neither of them would be able to say anything to fill the quiet steadily growing more and more awkward.

So what was it? Was Gillion actually into someone? Was he ever even attracted to anyone, ever? If he wasn’t open to being in a relationship then , would he be open now ? What the hell even were this guy’s preferences?! Why was Chip even asking himself these sorts of questions ?! As he said, or rather, as he told himself: Gillion’s romantic and sexual preferences and histories were absolutely none of his business! Why did he suddenly want to be privy to those things, out of all things about Gillion Tidestrider?! None of this made sense. None of this made any sense ! 

And what does one usually do when absolutely nothing makes any sense? Ask a question, of course.

Chip, for the love of his life, did not know what suddenly gave him the sick sense of courage that made him blurt out his next few words. It could’ve been the ungodly amounts of alcohol in his body, or it could’ve been his internal turmoil. Who knows. All he knew was that he was saying them with reckless abandon, and once he started saying them, he was unable to stop.

“Hey, uh, hey, Gill,” Chip stammered, breathing out a nervous laugh, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Gillion blinked, his eyes immediately clearing of the pensiveness clouding them before as his thoughts got dragged back into the present. The young pirate swallowed. “Once you’re, uh, once you’re done with, hm, with the stuff you have to do, with whatever training you’re going through, or whatever… who do you, um, who will you consider taking on a date, or something?” 

Gillion frowned. “Why would you want to know that?”

Despite the cool breeze flowing through the windows of the tavern, Chip felt beads of sweat immediately form on the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, no reason! No reason at all! Haha! I’m just curious! Completely curious! This is just an, uh, this is just a common topic two friends talk about, y’know! Love lives, and all that shit, haha. Not that I’m hopeful for anything, of course, hahaha. Hahaha. Haha. Ha.”

Chip physically felt all the blood drain from his face as soon as the words tumbled through his lips. Did I really just fucking say that last part out loud?!

Gillion’s face remained void of any emotion, continuing the dance in their ever-so-perfect manner, only now, Chip’s muscles were tighter and more rigid than they have ever been before. And yet, Chip felt the faintest glimmer of hope for the possibility that he may not have heard that last part . Not that it gave him any consolation. He still said what he said, and no amount of “Please forget I ever said anything.”s can change that.

All of a sudden, Gillion opened his mouth. Chip was just about to widen his eyes as he realized that the triton was actually going to answer his fucking question when—

The townspeople burst into tremendous applause, an applause that shook the very foundations of the tavern, as the partners and couples finished their dance with different flourishes all in synchrony with the ending of the band’s song. Chip felt Gillion flinch almost imperceptibly at the sudden noise erupting around him – how could he not, what with the great hold triton had on him – and immediately stopped in his place without even the slightest hint of a grand, extravagant gesture, or anything. Chip almost stumbled over the abruptness of the action, or rather, of the inaction.

Before the young pirate could even furrow his eyebrows and ask if Gillion was doing alright, the band started another song. It was much, much faster and wilder, but Chip knew that it was of the same type as the previous song. This was the sort of couple’s dance that he was used to performing on the Black Rose, this was the sort of song that he loved dancing with Elizabeth to, the sort of song that always got them in fits of laughter by the end. 

His face, along with the dozens of faces in the tavern, broke into a wide grin, and he glanced at Gillion with shining eyes. The triton noticed the mischievous light in the young pirate’s face and tilted his head in curiosity. “Chip, what–”

Faster than a blink of an eye, Chip’s hand, the hand that was pressing the stem of the too-perfect rose against the metal of Gillion’s armor, flew up to his mouth. His lips closed over the smooth and firm stem of the flower, his teeth very lightly digging into it to hold it in place. Gillion’s eyes widened and focused themselves on the bright red petals of the rose, apparently very taken aback at the sight of them.

An unexpected surge of confidence burst in Chip’s veins, and for some reason, the grin around the rose only grew wider. Fuck it. “Just follow my lead, Gillion.”

For the first time tonight, Gillion’s cheeks flushed red. Chip took a large, sweeping step to his left perfectly in time with the beat of the band’s song, bringing a suddenly very flustered Gillion Tidestrider with him, who almost tripped at the suddenness and intensity of the movement. Thanks to the practically nonexistent height difference between the two, it was easy for the young pirate to lead. Fortunately, the triton seemed to be a fast learner in the art of dance, and sooner than later he was able to mimic Chip’s wild, but fairly simple steps. It only took Gillion a couple more measures until he was able to finally tear his eyes away from Chip’s feet, lips parted in a dazed manner, one most unusual to see in the triton’s usually firm and determined lips. Not that Chip was paying any special attention to his lips or anything.

The couples and partners dancing circled the tavern in the same way and direction as them, their dresses and garments flowing like the petals of a flower in a summer breeze. The tavern was now a lot rowdier than it was during the previous song, the sounds of laughter and cheering and whooping accompanied by the loud and confident claps of the townspeople all to the beat of the song. Their steps thundered and shook the very foundations of the tavern as the dance continued, only becoming faster and wilder by the second. From the corner of Chip’s eye, he could’ve sworn he saw a blurry Old Man Earl dancing with a heavyset maiden with never-before-seen energy, as if he wasn’t indeed an irritable old man and was actually a youth in his golden years. Chip barely batted an eye at him, though, for he was suddenly incredibly interested by the sight only mere inches in front of him.

Gillion Tidestrider. Chip must’ve been way too drunk and out of his mind, because there was absolutely no way he would let his thoughts wander this far when sober. All of a sudden, he found himself reveling in the way the tavern’s dim candlelight illuminated the triton in front of him, basking Gillion in a soft, golden glow. He found himself mesmerized by the brightness of Gillion’s ocean blue eyes, shining with a glint of his usual valor as well as a more unusual sort of mild perplexion that Chip found – dare he say it – adorable . He found himself entranced by the way Gillion’s ever so moist and plump lips were parted, by the way his tongue slipped through the space between them, very lightly running over his already moist lips almost nervously. He found himself captivated by the feeling of Gillion’s skin touching his, their fingers intertwined, and he found himself imagining how the triton’s skin would feel if it was lightly brushing over his cheek, his lips, his chin, his back, his body.

Chip let his eyes explore Gillion’s body slowly, carefully, only a small percent of his consciousness left focused on the dance. He let his eyes scan as much of Gillion’s body as he dared; his armor, his garments, his well-toned arms, the markings on his muscled skin, the droplets of moisture slowly moving down his neck, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat, Pretzel. Chip didn’t even realize when he started slowly licking his chapped lips, and once he did, he didn't know how to stop.

His eyes slowly rose to meet Gillion’s, and when their eyes met, oh, God. The triton's eyes were half-lidded, their usual liveliness and brightness undeniably replaced by a cloud of something Chip almost didn't want to believe at first. The oceans that were Gillion's eyes, sun-splashed waters whose currents usually danced swiftly with purpose and determination, were now dark and almost still, more like vast galaxies than anything else. Anyone gazing into those deep, mesmerizing eyes would immediately get entranced in their spell of God-knows-what, and anyone would have been able to point a finger on what exactly those eyes held. Fortunately for Chip (or unfortunately, depending on whether or not you put your feet into his boots), he was still in his state of perceptual oversensitivity, and he was immediately able to tell that those goddamned beautiful eyes of Gillion Tidestrider were looking not at his own brown eyes…

But were instead fixated on his lips.

Chip took a slow, sharp intake of breath. His own eyes were now longingly gazing at the other's lips as well, the other's sort-of teal, plump, perpetually moistened lips. Try as he might, Chip suddenly couldn't tear his eyes away as hundreds of millions of thoughts and questions raced through his mind. Why is he looking at me like that ? Why can’t I take my eyes off his lips , of all things? Why are all my vital organs performing Olympic-level somersaults all of a sudden? Why do my nerves suddenly feel like they are being burned at the stake while simultaneously experiencing the highest settings of an electric chair?

...What the hell will happen if I kiss Gillion’s lips right now?

He felt his brain physically reel from that thought, but his heart, well. His heart only pounded against his ribcage faster than it already was (which was pretty fucking fast, mind you) at the thought of the triton's lips touching his, tenderly melting with his. Would his lips be flawed and chapped, not at all unlike Chip's own, indicative of all the challenges and tribulations the hero had gone through and eventually conquered? Would they be as luscious and smooth as they seemed to be, as perfect and flawless as any other part of his body, of his character? Chip knew that there was only one way to find out, only one option to get the answers he suddenly, desperately wanted. What he didn't know is whether he desired or abhorred it, though. 

However, as he continued to stare at those sort-of teal lips mere inches in front of him, he slowly realized that yeah , he did desire it. He desired it very much.

The young pirate swallowed hard, his eyes finally yet ever so slowly drifting up to meet Gillion’s. Dark, ocean eyes met chocolate brown ones. His breath was, for some reason, completely taken away by the glorious sight in front of him, the sight that had his fingers intertwined with its own. 

Chip wanted to say something, anything , as the two stared into each other’s eyes, the dance long forgotten, but there was a rose, a too-perfect rose pressed between his lips. 

Gillion Tidestrider moved his hand, the hand that was carefully resting on his partner’s waist, and raised it to Chip’s face so that his thumb was just barely brushing over his chin. The young pirate lamented inside, itching to feel more of the triton’s warm, wet skin on his own, the very skin that made him tense and freeze up only several minutes before. 

Wet fingers closed on the flower’s too smooth and firm stem, and slowly, carefully pulled the too-perfect rose away from the young pirate’s parted lips.

“G…Gill–”

Chip never got to finish whatever he had to say, for a pair of sort-of teal, plump, perpetually moistened lips were pressed against his own.

The entire world around them stopped and all but melted into a blur. The music faded out in an instant, the fast and almost wild notes of the band's songs being drowned out by the sound of the two pirates' heartbeats in their ears. Neither of them knew just exactly when their feet had stopped moving; for all they knew, they could've stopped minutes ago, when they were somewhat unashamedly checking each other out. All they felt was the solid ground under their feet, the pounding in their chests, their arms softly holding each other, still in that dancing position that was not at all adequate for such a kiss as this. Oh, God, the kiss, their lips melting together softly, tenderly. Salty, moist, absolutely flawless lips meeting dry, chapped, perfectly imperfect ones.

It was heaven. It couldn’t have been anything else. Chip and Gillion died right there in the tavern and went up to heaven just so that they could share this heavenly, heavenly experience.

None of them could get enough of it.

Unfortunately, extremely unfortunately, their needs to breathe overcame the unadulterated ecstasy the two pirates were currently in. They both simultaneously pulled away from the kiss excruciatingly slowly, reluctant to let go, chests heaving up and down as they gave their lungs the air they have unregrettably deprived them of.

Their lips, less than an inch apart, remained parted as they panted for air, their foreheads lovingly touching and all but glued together. Their faces were so close, Chip could feel his own breath bounce back from Gillion’s lips as he whispered out the only word that he could muster right now. And understandably so. Wow.

“G-Gillion…” Chip’s voice was so uncharacteristically quiet, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “Gillion, wh… wha…?”

“I think I have the answer to your question, Chip.” Gillion’s voice, normally so bold and loud, was now heartwarmingly soft and warm. “I think I know who I am to court after my prophecy has been fulfilled.”

The young pirate lifted his half-lidded eyes to meet the triton’s. “R-Really?”

The other nodded ever so slightly, bringing their foreheads even closer. “I will… I’ll admit that I haven’t given this topic much thought, but I believe that the answer is clear to me, now.”

Chip swallowed slowly, his words much quieter than he even thought was possible for him. “...Who, then?”

Gillion Tidestrider’s voice was now barely a whisper, his utterance of a single word – the single word – meant for Chip and only Chip to hear.

“You.”

They both leaned in to share another kiss at the same time. Another kiss, another one just as heavenly as the one before, and so, so much more.

Chip tilted his head and leaned his head into the kiss, earning an absolutely delicious stutter of breath from the triton. Gillion retaliated with just as much fervor and passion, if not even more, his teeth lightly grazing Chip’s bottom lip before pulling it in for an even deeper kiss. The young pirate sighed into the other’s mouth, tasting, drinking in the alarmingly yet unsurprisingly strong taste of alcohol present even in Gillion’s lips. God, oh God , Gillion tasted so good, the bitter taste of alcohol mingling with the saltiness of his nature intoxicating him even more than he already is from both the unbelievable amounts of alcohol in his body and the kiss that was nothing, absolutely nothing short of perfect. Despite feeling completely sober, both Chip and Gillion now knew what it meant to be drunk off of kisses.

The tavern around them all but disappeared as the two of them shared another kiss, then another, then another, like two people stranded in the middle of the desert drinking their first drinks of water after days of dehydration. Gulping in shallow lungfuls of air between each kiss, the two were desperate to stay together, desperate to stay in the moment, in the haven they have built for themselves and themselves only. It was perfect. God, it was the very definition of perfect.

Gillion was the first one to pull away, much to Chip’s disappointment. Hell, he could stand right there with the triton all day if he could. It took all of his self-control (which was practically non-existent, at this point) and his sense of dignity (which had also all but disappeared) to stop himself from whining.

Chip tore his eyes away from the strand of saliva connecting both of their mouths and looked up at Gillion with slightly furrowed eyebrows. The triton looked back at him, eyes positively shining with adoration, with something that made the young pirate weak at the knees as if he was some sort of lovesick teenage school girl. And he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel like one at that very moment.

A chuckle. A chuckle spilled out from Gillion’s kiss-red lips, sweeter and more beautiful than the song the tavern’s band was currently finishing. God , if that wasn’t music then Chip didn’t know what was. The corners of the triton’s mouth were quirked up in a small, open-mouthed smile, a smile that made a peculiar but not unwelcome warmth spread in Chip’s chest. A chuckle of his own left the young pirate’s lips as well, and sooner than later, the two were bursting in fits of quiet laughter. They tightly gripped each other, their hands still in their dancing positions, shoulders shuddering as they laughed at the weight being lifted off of their shoulders, at the ridiculousness of it all–

Everyone broke into ear-splitting cheers, laughs, and applause once again as the band finally played the final notes of their song, snapping both Chip and Gillion back to reality. The young pirate felt his heart stop and hit the bottom of his stomach as the triton violently flinched once more at the noise, and they both tore their eyes away from each other, frantically glancing around the tavern. Chip could’ve sworn his face spontaneously burst into flames as he saw the knowing look and devilish grin of some random stranger that was definitely, absolutely not Jay Ferrin. He felt Gillion’s hands stiffen on his person even more than they already were and immediately understood that the other had seen their fellow crewmate, too.

“Uh, Chip, I, uh,” Gillion stammered, his voice shaky, nervous, even embarrassed, not at all like the Gillion Tidestrider Chip knew and loved. Wait, what? “U-Uhm, Chip, I must apologize, I–”

“ Not another word , Gil,” the young pirate managed under his breath, his face still on fire as he deliberately ignored the-stranger-that-was-definitely-not-Jay’s now snickering face. “Follow me.”

He grabbed Gillion’s hand, or rather, he squeezed the hand that had its fingers intertwined with his, turned a full 180-degree, and marched to where he believed the staircase to the upstairs of the tavern was, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes. He felt the triton hesitate for just a fraction of a second in his hand – which was enough time for Chip to feel his heart sink even lower and for him to plan out his apologies and escape plan, mind you – before quickly following suit, almost eagerly. At least, Chip hoped that Gillion did so eagerly. Who the fuck knew how his feelings would spiral down if he found out that Gillion didn’t really… yeah.

Oh, right. His feelings. Chip still needed to sort those out.

Eh, whatever. He’ll sort those out later. 

Right now, he’s got something else to sort out.

Or rather, someone.

From the opposite end of the tavern, Jay tried to compose herself. Emphasis on “tried”. She failed.

“Eh, what’s so funny, now?” Old Man Earl approached the woman, wiping off beads of sweat from his forehead, a reminder that he wasn’t actually as youthful as he used to be, and that he was not at all in any shape to be dancing to such fast-paced songs.

Jay bit her bottom lip in an effort to stop the peals of laughter uncontrollably spilling from her mouth. “Oh, n-nothing, hah, it’s just… You don’t think Chip would open the door if I knocked on it to return his rose, do you?”

Earl’s face contorted into a grimace. “Oh, God , no. Besides, I don’t think you’ll appreciate what you’ll see if he would open his door.”