Chapter Text
Jose Baden wakes up alone.
That's something you get used to, especially in his line of work. It gets so lonely out there on the sea, on those long nights where waters are still. So lonely that sometimes you actually wish for those stormy nights, or for some beast to rear its ugly head, or for anything that will keep you distracted from your own thoughts. But he's not on the sea this week, their crew having stopped in a port town for supplies (and the town had insisted on giving the Viscount and his son free lodging in their finest inn). He's also not going to bed alone, either, but his companion's already started his own day. And yet those thoughts and memories still come from the depths of his mind, chilling him to the bone no matter how long he's been in this line of work. And so he needs a bit of help getting to sleep even when on land and in the arms of another...and that help comes in the form of blood red wine.
He sits up, groaning as his eyes adjust to the light. His mouth is giving him that same familiar dry, bitter taste that it always does. Combined with this headache of his, it serves to remind him that he can only get to sleep at all by indulging in his oldest vice. God, he's let himself go, hasn't he? And he's only just reached his thirties… As he runs his hand down his face, he can even feel a bit of stubble growing on his chin. Stubble! It'll be shaved once he can finally get up and move, but he has something to attend to, first.
The inn he's staying at has a little bedside table, which has already gotten messy in just one night's stay. It's quite a stark contrast to the table on the other side of the bed, where everything is tidy and organized. Self-discipline has been something Jose's had to learn over the years, but he's far worse about it now than he'd been even in his youth. Eh, he can just clean up later. Not like it matters much. But what does matter is checking that messy little bedside table on his end, the one featuring an empty wine bottle and a pocket watch carelessly tossed on top, as well as various other personal effects. But nothing else of note. This causes Jose to raise an eyebrow. Strange...he usually leaves a note before heading out anywhere. This is--
"Oh, you're awake." A voice from the doorway catches his attention. Jose squints in the light, the Sun's glow keeping his lover in shadows from the angle it shines. He's tall and heavyset, far softer than even Jose, whose muscles have started softening up with alcohol's assistance. But he's got muscle in his limbs already before coming aboard, and a fire in his eyes that outburns even the most hardened sailor's. That fire is fueled by love, love that had sent this man out onto the ocean despite his lack of experience. And that same fire has ignited something within Jose that he hasn't felt in years.
Jose fights the dryness in his mouth to greet him. "...Sam." He hates how coarse it sounds out loud, as he wants to do that name justice. But Sam Bourbon is a forgiving man, one who doesn't seem to care how Jose says his name, just as long as it's spoken affectionately. It's a breath of fresh air, considering how unforgiving the waters are. Considering how unforgiving his own father is. "I'd thought you'd already left."
"Didn't see a note, did you?" Sam winks. It's a little habit of his, to leave Jose a note to wake up to if Sam's the first awake. Apparently he'd started doing it for his younger sister a while ago...as if he couldn't be any more endearing. "I'm actually gonna be leaving soon, though. Today I'm making sure I get to the market bright and early!"
"I doubt it's even open yet, darling…" It's said with a yawn, Jose slowly starting to adjust to being awake. Thank God they don't set out for another few days. In his youth he'd been a morning person, always up with the sunrise and right at work at dawn. But now he often catches himself sleeping in, to the point where he's actually been written up about it. Sam, on the other hand, is handling the sailor's schedule with grace. Jose had been a bit concerned for him, considering he'd been running a bar right before this (and he knows all too well how late those operate), but that same fire keeps Sam at the top of his game.
"I don't think I looked around at everything they had to offer yesterday," Sam says. He comes over to the bed, Jose scooting towards the center to allow his lover space to sit. "There's gotta be something I overlooked. There has to be."
Sam hadn't joined their crew for glory or gold, the motivation of many a sailor on the Baden payroll. In fact, Bourbon's Miracle Wine had been one of their best exports for a while, and Jose's father had allowed Sam aboard as a favor for such wonderful business. He and Jose always got along well enough during travels, but something's shifted in a remarkable way during the course of this voyage, an initial friendship allowing the both of them to know each other on a deeper level than before. Sam knows Jose on a level that not even his own family does, and in turn Jose knows all about Sam's desperate search for a cure to whatever disease has plagued that sister of his since birth.
Jose puts a hand on Sam's shoulder, awake enough now to sound coherent, and hopefully as sincere as he feels. "And if there isn't anything more, Sam, it's alright. We still have plenty of ports to visit on this voyage. I know the ingredient you're missing is out there." Even though Sam's closed the bar down while away (his sister's only just turned eighteen, far too young to run the place by herself), he's still mixing up variations on his specialty Dovlin, hoping to find the right formula that can overcome his sister's strange drug resistance. Jose's been the test subject for his brews, Dovlin putting Jose at ease like no other spirits he's encountered before. Sam has a gift for it, but he's never been satisfied no matter how popular Dovlin is. If it doesn't help her, it's nowhere near good enough for him.
"I guess..." Sam sighs. "I'm just...I'm worried, y'know? This is the longest I've been away from Demi. I want to make sure that time's not going to waste."
Jose scoffs. "You're looking for a cure, Sam. That alone proves it isn't wasteful."
Sam looks over his shoulder, giving Jose a grateful smile. It stirs something within Jose's heart, something he's never felt before. When he had been younger, in his prime and brimming with the foolish pride that comes with being a young nobleman, he fancied plenty of men in court. And every tryst had been fleeting, but fun; nothing would come out of his past love affairs once he'd gotten out of bed. But there's something about his relationship with Sam that feels...substantial. It had started with a strong friendship, after all, and over time on this voyage it's blossomed into something neither has ever experienced before. Even more so for Sam, who'd been too focused on Demi to seek out romance...to think Jose is the first exposure Sam has to anything this intimate is a bit terrifying. Some washed-up, miserable old sailor should never be someone's first love. And yet Sam keeps sharing his bed, leaving Jose notes, making Jose feel closest to being human again in a long time.
"I...should get going. I want to get there early…" It sounds as though Sam is hesitant to leave, though. Jose is hesitant to have him leave, too, enjoying even this quiet moment between them. But if Sam lingers, delays his market trip, he'll hate himself for it. So, Jose decides to help him out.
"Oh, God...the hell did you put into that Dovlin?" Jose yawns deeply, stretching in a way that might seem exaggerated. Though there is some truth to it; he's still quite tired. "Mmm...if you want to go now, love, I don't mind. Need to catch up on sleep while we're docked."
It's the opportunity Sam needs, and he takes it. But before he goes, he turns towards Jose, his hand moving to hold the back of the sailor's head. It's all the invitation Jose needs, and he closes their distance as they connect in a kiss. It's a type of kiss that's as unique to Sam as his Dovlin, sweet but passionate. And it's as potent as Dovlin, too, because Jose's head is spinning before their lips even touch. The farewell kiss lasts for a few precious seconds, and then they part, Jose feeling so lightheaded that he almost falls right back onto his pillow after. But he manages to wait until Sam says his goodbye and leaves. Once alone though, Jose sighs contentedly, smiling up at the ceiling as he closes his eyes for a bit more rest. He shouldn't need alcohol to help him fall asleep again this morning. Not when he has Sam.