Chapter Text
As much as he craved it, Chip still wasn’t used to the ambience of the rolling ocean and the gentle rocking of the boat every night.
Sure, this was the lifestyle Chip did anything and everything for, but his time on Loffinlot got him used to the surface life, finding odd comfort in the distant sounds of nature and the breeze rustling the leaves and mimicking the sound of a lazy maraca.
Maybe it was the silence. Chip could recall the lulling conversations in the tavern, the clanging of dishes from Old Man Earl cleaning, and outside in the town, usually of the remaining townsfolk who weren’t quite ready to settle into the night yet. While Chip was ready to leave during his stay, he was able to make the most of it.
Chip had his back leaned against the railing on the deck, feeling the soft sea wind brush against his back as a comfort in the life he was living. While the harsh scent of sea salt was bitter to most, it was something Chip had gotten used to, the smell giving him some peace of mind. This was what he wanted , sailing out on the open ocean going God knows where. They didn’t have any semblance of a map anyway; Chip and his self-proclaimed crew decided to trust the waves. For once.
Chip was fine with that precarious weight, just seeing where the water took him. Thankfully, his friends were able to settle with that realization too, making Chip apprehensively excited for their adventures to come, their bounty to capture, the people they’ll probably end up saving. It was becoming a common theme with the crew.
However, there was still an uneasiness tipping the scales, something that Chip couldn’t quite place his finger on. He refused to believe it was his environment, and he would never want to deny himself from a life on the open seas. It wasn’t the lack of knowledge as Chip had already accepted that truth. Then what the hell was it? Was it his crew?
No, probably not. Despite the trials and bickering, the three had gotten along relatively well and were able to muster some haphazard comradery between them all. Chip had fun pulling the excessive pranks, indulging in the celebration (except for the one that almost cost him his sanity), just generally messing around with Gill and Jay.
Then what was the damn problem?
Maybe it was the unusually heavy creaking that wasn’t from the expected strain of the boat.
Fixated on the natural details of the floorboards, Chip darted his head up towards the sound to his right, finding a relatively calm Gillion walking towards him. He had shed his thick set of armor for the night, wearing only his turtleneck tank top and matching black capris, and still oddly barefoot. How was he even able to run through the North Woods of Loffinlot anyway with no shoes on?
Gillion silently settled to Chip’s right, saying nothing. “Hey… Gill,” Chip started, but he still wasn’t able to get anything out of him. It didn’t sit right with Chip, especially as this silence was coming from someone who ran on pure impulse, morality, and the occasional bloodlust for fire beetles. “You good?” Chip tried again, attempting to push a more casual energy into the quiet.
“I am alright, just… struggling to fall asleep,” Gillion explained curtly. Somehow, Gillion was always able to make anything he said sound like some heroic task, even if he was just entering a room he managed to make it some kind of destiny. Getting past the annoying bit of it, Chip was able to find it endearing, learning to appreciate Gillion’s never-ending zest for life that had in contrast dulled Chip.
“Doesn’t really sound like you too much,” Chip commented, catching a quick flash of Gillion, who was staring at the opposite side of the boat, his green hair slightly strewn from sleep and the cerulean in his eyes blending in the surrounding blue. The lighter pieces of coral jutting from his head soaked in scattered moonlight while his shiny teal skin reflected it, making Gillion illuminated like some kind of gem or sea glass. He was almost beautiful surrounded by his element, though Chip wasn’t too comfortable with admitting that. In fact he had never even admitted Gillion was beautiful to begin with.
But right now he was. Only the night would know his confession.
“Yeah…” Gillion forced out, making it clear to Chip he wasn’t in his usually talkative mood. Chip accepted it, letting the occasional brush of the ocean become their conversation.
Chip wasn’t too used to enjoying Gillion’s presence like this. Chip had come accustomed to thinking in the fray of the moment, constantly living in the presence, and usually stifling his own thoughts along the way in hopes of processing them later. Now, with this moment to breath, Chip could let his tumble back and forth with room to run. Quickly, his thoughts settled into the section of his brain reserved for the man next to him.
Letting his feelings go mentally while Gillion was next to him made Chip feel exposed, even though Gillion had no access to the more choppy waves in Chip’s head. Hell, Chip wasn’t even saying a word and he was embarrassed . Since when the hell was he embarrassed ?
Chip was thrown off by the lazy touch on his side, whipping his head downward to see Gillion settled there, nestling his cheek into the crook of his shoulder. Chip’s eyes grew wide, realizing there was a chance that Gillion could see his reaction. Fortunately, Gllion seemed to be caught up in his own movements, eyes fluttering shut in comfort.
The weirdest thing was that Chip didn’t pull away, or jolt, or flinch.
Chip’s default was his guard up, usually initiating the first touch as a signal that he trusted people. Instead, Gillion had inserted himself into the situation, forcing Chip to take a step back and let Gillion do his thing.
And for once, Chip decided not to fight it.
“Do you mind that I am doing this?” Gillion asked, oddly formal, the shattered silence ending Chip’s thought train.
“No, yeah, you’re good man,” Chip rushed out, worried he sounded too panicked.
Wait, since when was he the one that was panicked? Was he even panicked?
Chip addressed the growing heartbeat as the feeling grew heavier in his throat and the increasing amount of sweat as he grew more self aware of his reaction.
Yeah, he was definitely panicking.
“Okay, good,” Gillion said, reassured that he was doing nothing to offend Chip. Carefully, Gillion snaked his hand between the railing and Chip’s back, settling his hand onto the upper part of Chip’s shoulder and dangerously close to the back of Chip’s hair.
What the hell was this?
Both Gillion and the rising pain in Chip’s chest.
No, seriously, what was this ?
The only time Chip felt this kind of anxiety was when he was talking to some attractive girl, if that ever happened at all. But for a dude , much less Gillion ? Literally never. So why was this happening now?
Was he allowed to like guys? Of course he was, but this was a thought that barely graced Chip. He didn’t even think about that stuff too much; he was too worried about his work on the sea to even care about preferences and all that bullshit. Since when did Chip even like guys? Or did he just like Gillion? Wait, did he even like Gillion in the first place? Like, romantically?
Questions berated Chip, trying to settle into some kind of conclusion but only digging himself into deeper holes. Meanwhile, observant of Chip’s nearby hair, Gillion moved his hand to the base of Chip’s head, lazily twirling the locks in between his fingers while managing to settle in a deeper state of comfort next to Chip.
Chip tried his best to attempt to compose himself, to gather up the spilling thoughts and throw them in some kind of bucket to settle down in. So they could stop rolling and smacking him so violently and give him a chance to breathe.
Okay, so maybe he liked Gillion. In that way. That was one conclusion Chip could point out. Shakily.
Maybe he shouldn’t focus too much on the logistics of it. Maybe for once he should actually try to live in the present instead of letting it come naturally. Maybe record a few mental notes to dissect later.
Chip tried his best to bring himself back to reality, to ground himself in Gillion’s touch and just let the moment pass by. He didn’t hate it, that was for sure. Chip wasn’t even used to being pampered and taken care of in this way, instead learning to settle with taking the initiative. But for once, taking the backseat was fine.
So yes, there was something troubling Chip. But maybe it wasn’t as bad of a trouble as he made it out to be. Maybe it was something that he could live comfortably with and get to know a little bit better.
He hoped.