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Slate glanced sidelong at their friend-turned-colleague.
Gossan’s face was awash with two glowing hues. First, the warm orange of the campfire that made light and shadows flicker across their young features. The second, a vivid purple that stained their cheeks and nose.
The miner who was officially (by Hearthian standards) no longer a minor was getting their first real taste of sapwine. As it turned out, they were very much a light-weight. No surprises there.
While Slate had technically passed their sapwine ceremony only a little while ago, they were already somewhat of a seasoned connoisseur beforehand thanks to knowing exactly where Tektite kept their emergency bottles and hip flasks stashed. So, when their actual ceremony day came, the engineer wasn’t particularly affected by the single mugful that made up the official right of passage into adulthood. They even thought they’d succeeded in convincing the elders that they simply had a naturally high tolerance for the stuff, until Rutile had given them a knowing (condescending) scowl from across the campfire.
Gossan, on the other hand, had always been a stickler for rules. Any time they'd detected the scent of the liquor on the engineer at the end of a long day in the mines, Slate would find themself on the receiving end of a lecture. ‘What if the hatchlings see you? Stars! What if Feldspar sees you and starts getting stupid ideas?’ was one such argument.
Once Tuff had gotten violently ill after sneaking a sip of their own from the flask Slate had 'borrowed'. They'd never heard the end of it.
And so, this was the younger adult’s virgin voyage into the joys of sapwine. And stars, it was unnerving to witness.
The evening had begun in the regular fashion: a lively feast, the dismissal of the hatchlings (of course Feldspar had insisted that they were old enough to at least hang around and watch, to no avail), the singing of the old-as-dirt song that had been specially composed for such occasions– a mirthful ditty sprinkled with poetic verses and more than a little bit of innuendo thrown in for good measure -, and the all-important pouring of a healthy dose of the liquor for Gossan to chug as quickly as hearthianly possible.
Slate had watched the spectacle avidly. Gossan screwed their eyes shut and crinkled their nose as the liquor no doubt burned their throat on the way down. The miner didn't quite manage to swallow back the cough that resulted, and the corners of their eyes glistened with tears as the sting reached their nostrils. There had been cheers, pats on the back, and remarks about how their life had only just begun in earnest now that they were an adult.
Gossan smiled and took it all in stride. The next hour or two was filled with the recounting of a series of stories. Some of the elders told of their experiences as young adults - which mostly resulted in banter between certain individuals as one insisted the other had gotten some detail or order of events wrong. Others reminded Gossan of things they'd said or done as a hatchling - things they would most likely rather forget entirely- which started a chorus of knee slaps and raucous laughs.
Slate kept to themself for the most part, not interested in contributing any further stories of their own (although the engineer had a few choice ones they were certain the elders were oblivious to), and risk giving Gossan another reason to jump down their throat. Besides, Slate had gotten the same treatment during their own ceremony, and the memory of it was still fresh.
That said, it seemed that their usually studious friend took on a more relaxed and... cheery demeanor when under the influence. Comments that might have only gotten a wry smile or mildly amused rebuttal had them laughing loudly. It was an interesting change, to say the least.
Slate took a deep gulp from their mug to distract themself from the vicarious embarrassment (and the bewilderment that came from seeing a side of Gossan they hadn’t since before they started mine work), when something caught their eye. To their left, a stone’s throw away and about two meters up, something flashed bright red in amongst the dark brown and green shadows of the trees. If it weren’t for their enhanced night vision courtesy of working in the mines so often, they would have missed it.
From their hiding spot amongst lush pine branches, Feldspar grinned down at Slate and gave them a thumbs up.
Slate glared back at the teen, which earned them a series of emphatic hand gestures which the young adult interpreted as ‘if you snitch on me, I’ll kick your ass’. Slate rolled their eyes and quickly averted their gaze before anyone else caught on. They’d have to flick Feldspar on the ear later.
The storytelling eventually tapered off in favour of a game of cards while Gneiss played a soft melody on their stringed instrument. It was getting late, and without much to do, Slate nursed their wine while poking idly at the fire with a twig, occasionally glancing over to keep tabs on Gossan
The miner had already been struggling to sit completely upright without swaying after they'd downed the first mugful of wine. But when the engineer held out their own mug for a second (then third) helping when Spinel went around with the growler, they didn't think of the fact that Gossan would do the same solely for the sake of matching Slate's pace because a.) they didn't know their own limits yet, and b.) the miner was still just as stubborn and foolish as they always were.
Heh. Oops.
They'd made the mistake of forgetting just how easily Gossan could turn any occasion the two of them shared into a competition – a habit of their friend's ever since they were hatchlings. And while it had resulted in some friendly rivalry when they were younger, it was fast becoming a source of contention as they got older.
There wasn't an inch of Gossan's face that wasn't flushed purple now. Slate watched out of the corner of their eye as the younger lifted their mug to take another sip, only to miss their mouth by a few millimeters and spill a small amount of liquid onto their chin. The little that managed to make it past their lips must have gone down the wrong pipe, because they sputtered and coughed. All eyes landed on the youngest adult.
"You sure you haven't had enough, buddy?" Esker had been the one to finally ask, and Slate was glad they did. At this point in their life-long friendship, the engineer knew better than to try and get Gossan to shift gears when their mind was made up. It was a rare occasion indeed when Gossan listened to anything Slate said without finding something to argue about.
"Oh, yeah, 'm good. Whyd'ya ask?" Gossan slurred in reply, trying and failing to sound unaffected.
Esker eyed them for a second, "Ah, alright then. Glad you're enjoying yourself," the tree keeper finished mildly, shooting Slate a look and then shuffling over to Spinel. Slate saw a quick exchange of whispered words and subtle gestures pointed in Gossan's direction. Then there was a muted laugh, some nodding, and then everyone continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Gossan must have picked up on the shift in mood that settled around the fire, because they became more subdued after that.
...
Slate allowed their mind to drift at some point as they stared idly at the fire. They should call it a night. They were feeling a little fuzzy around the edges themself, and the background conversations had become little more than white noise anyways...
They were snapped back to the here-and-now with a start when they felt a soft scratching sensation on the side of their neck. If they had been more sober, they would have immediately swatted at whatever was causing it. Instead, the engineer turned their head slightly, and saw an arm extended toward them.
On the far end of said arm was Gossan, and they were looking at Slate’s neck with squinted eyes.
“What are you doing?” Slate asked, baffled. Gossan’s finger was still scratching at the skin of their neck, their nail scraping over a small patch of scales just below their ear.
Gossan didn’t reply for a moment, leaning in slightly closer like they were trying to focus on something. Then they shrugged, leaning back, “Jus’ thought… you had a thing. A... loose thing… r’movable thing. Dirt or somethin’ ”, their smaller friend drawled.
Slate was thoroughly amused, “And? Was it?” they asked, an involuntary smile tilting their mouth upward on one side.
Gossan paused again, as if trying to mentally line up their words correctly, “Nah, was ‘ttach… ‘ttachhhed… attached. Haha,” they finished, chuckling tiredly.
…
Slate looked away, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter, but the more they thought about what Gossan had just said, the harder it was to keep it from escaping.
"What're you- hah... what ar-ahaha," Gossan chuckled uncontrollably, "What a-hhhhhhhaHAHAHA-!! AHAhahaha-!!"
Oh, stars!
Slate covered their mouth with one hand, the other setting down the half-full mug of sapwine they’d been holding so it wouldn’t spill wine all over their knees.
“Oi, you two having fun over there?” Spinel called with a grin from across the fire pit.
“Hah?!” Gossan replied, snapping to attention as if they’d been caught dozing off. Slate covered their eyes with their other hand. They felt their face start to flush from the effort of trying not to laugh aloud.
“Ahh, I think our young friends have had enough of our wisecracks for one evening,” Gneiss’ said, voice soft but tone leaving no room for argument.
“Yep, early start in the mornin’," Tektite quipped, “Can’t have them curled up in a corner of the mine with stomach aches all day.”
Slate agreed. They breathed deeply through their nose until they regained some composure, wiping quickly at the corner of their eyes. They got to their feet, dusting pine needles off the seat of their pants, then turned toward their inebriated friend.
“You good?” they asked, taking stock of Gossan’s glazed expression and slouched posture.
The miner looked up at them, frowning.
Wow, that was a quick change in demeanor.
Gossan didn't bother replying as they stood up, taking a step forward –
The younger listed heavily to the right, but Slate was ready for it. They caught Gossan around both shoulders and reeled them into their side, steadying the smaller adult with their body.
“Whoops!” Esker yelled, and was at Slate’s side in a heartbeat, “Easy there buddy, I think we’d better get you to bed!” the tree keeper said good-naturedly. They lifted Gossan’s drooping head in their hands to make sure they were ok.
Esker was almost a decade Slate's senior and had been something of a guardian over them (and Tuff, Feldspar, and Hornfels for that matter) by default. Of all the older ones, Slate found them to be the easiest to get along with.
“You need some help?” Esker asked, concerned orange eyes meeting Slate’s.
Slate looked back down at Gossan. It wouldn’t be difficult getting them back to the cabin. They were much smaller than the engineer, and not particularly heavy (at least when compared with mining equipment and generator batteries).
“I think I got it. No need to go out of your way. Thanks, Esk,” Slate replied.
Esker looked between the two of them again, hesitating for a moment before patting Slate on the shoulder, “Ah, I see, I see. All good then,” they said, and…. winked?
What-?
Before Slate could even think to ask what that was about, the elder had already returned to their seat where Tektite and Spinel were waiting to continue their game. Slate frowned, before adjusting their grip on Gossan. The younger adult was too short for Slate to sling their arm over the engineer’s shoulder for support. Hmm…
This was going to be awkward.
Sighing deeply, anticipating some serious resistance, Slate dipped down enough to hook an arm under Gossan's knees while their other arm held the miner around their back, and scooped them up.
“!!”, Gossan made an offended noise but was too startled at the sudden lack of solid ground under their feet to manage any verbal protests.
Slate started the walk back to the hatchling cabin (it felt odd to be returning there still despite gaining the “adult” label). At that moment, they were glad that their tolerance for sapwine was as good as it was. Gossan would threaten them with blue murder if they took a misstep enroute and toppled them both into the river.
As expected, it didn’t take long for their friend to start complaining.
“Put m’ down,’” they mumbled, twisting in the taller hearthian’s arms, “can walk.”
“No, I think we both saw that’s not happening,” Slate countered, but was sure that wouldn't be the end of it.
“Dammit, said put me down, f’r ‘earth’s sake!” Gossan shouted in Slate’s ear, close and loud enough that it made the elder wince. It was followed by more insistent shuffling, then a hand shoving at Slate's jaw.
The engineer let out a frustrated growl. There was no helping it now, “Fine! Have it your way,” they huffed as they put their friend down, stepping back.
Slate wasn’t surprised when after a few steps, Gossan listed to one side again and landed softly in a bush with a curse, although it was muffled by leaves. They watched their friend trying to pull themself upright again for a while. The miner managed to get up eventually, planting their feet shakily on the ground and leaning their hands heavily on their knees as they stooped over.
Slate crossed their arms and waited.
For a few seconds Gossan just stood there. Then, wordlessly and without looking at the engineer, they held out one shaky arm in Slate’s direction. A silent forfeit. Or a truce.
Slate rolled their eyes, and unceremoniously scooped Gossan up into their arms again, “Why do you always have to be so annoying?” They said softly, voice lacking any real malice. They were tired, and really just wanted to get to bed.
“Why you so… so... so good at… stuff?” Gossan slurred against Slate’s shoulder, “y’just… y’just look at a thing an’ you… know how’t works… ‘n you jus' do stuff… an' it works…” they yawned widely, “'s'like...Y’don’ even have t’ try… y’ don’ even know how… how dif’cult it is... ev’ry single day..." they trail off.
Slate frowned. Where on hearth was this all coming from?
“You know that’s not how it goes. I had to actually learn how stuff works. I don’t just instinctually get these things,” the elder said mildly. They tried to remember that this was just the sapwine talking... but they couldn’t help feeling a bit flattered. Gossan never complimented them on anything.
Assuming what the younger had said was even a compliment. This was Gossan after all.
“Coulda fool’d me,” came the miner’s slow reply.
…
Negotiating the door into the cabin was tricky. It required setting Gossan down and propping them up against the wall with one hand while they turned the nob, then picking them up again (this time slinging the smaller hearthian over their shoulder) to step inside and close the door softly behind them. All the hatchlings were asleep – or at least they did their best to pretend they were.
Gossan mumbled complaints about feeling dizzy as Slate stepped through the dark cabin. They made it past the rows of beds until they arrived at Gossan and Hornfel’s bunk. With some careful maneuvering they managed to set the miner down on the edge of the bed without knocking their head against the top bunk and disturbing a sleeping Hornfels.
Slate was about to leave it at that, but when they noticed their friend almost falling ass over ankles off the bed while attempting to take their boots off, the engineer quickly changed their mind.
“Here, let me,” they whispered, pushing Gossan gently, unintentionally sending them sprawling onto their back. They expected a complaint from the miner, but none was forthcoming.
They leaned down and untied Gossan’s boots, tugging them off one by one and throwing them near the foot of the bed. Then Slate lifted their friend’s legs up onto the mattress. Gossan looked up at them with hazy half-lidded eyes.
“Don’t get any ideas,” they said.
...
Were they serious?!
Slate frowned back at them, suddenly feeling offended, although not entirely sure why.
“Oh, don’t worry. There's zero chance of you being in danger of that,” they countered a little coldly.
Instead of replying with an insult, Gossan covered their eyes with one arm, “What, y’sayin’ y're outta m' league, hotshot?” they said, sarcasm seeping into their voice.
...
Slate wasn’t sure how exactly the next few seconds happened. But when their mind cleared of the anger or whatever that had momentarily taken over, they were leaning over Gossan, pinning their arm to the pillow above their head with one hand, the other braced on the bed next to the younger’s shoulder. Their faces were close enough for their noses to almost – but not quite – touch.
Slate watched Gossan’s golden eyes widen just the slightest, although they were still heavily lidded from the wine-induced fatigue. They waited for some kind of comment, or verbal attack, some resistance – anything!
There wasn’t any. Gossan simply stared back, their breaths falling in slow wine-scented wafts over Slate’s lips. Slate was suddenly aware of the shakiness in their own breath, laboured as it was from the peculiar surge of energy that was coursing through their veins.
Slate swallowed. They'd meant it when they told Gossan they weren’t in danger of something like this happening. Whatever spark the engineer had thought might be between them a few years ago had fizzled out quickly the longer they had worked together, thanks to the many arguments and constant head-butting.
Or at least, they thought it had...
But maybe… maybe if Gossan were the one to…
The bedframe rocked as Hornfels stirred in the bunk above their heads.
Slate was suddenly thrown off balance by Gossan’s hand pushing hard against their face. They let go without a second thought and got off the bed, worried that they had either hurt Gossan, or that their friend(?) was about to throw up.
But Gossan just turned away and covered their face with a pillow.
Slate stood there in the dark and took several deep breaths, staring at Gossan's silhouette. Their heart was pounding.
Well.
...
At a loss, they moved over to their own bed, their mind reeling. When they reached their bunk, they made sure to check if Feldspar was where they should have been - and that the younger hadn't just witnessed what happened. Sure enough, the teen was curled up with their back to Slate, appearing fast asleep to any who gave them a cursory glance.
Slate knew Feldspar better than that. They watched the teen's back for a while, their thoughts a jumbled mess.Then the engineer flicked their younger friend’s ear hard.
Feldspar didn’t yelp, but they flinched and made an exaggerated flailing motion with their hands, then turned to Slate with a scowl, “What was that for!?” They demanded in a loud whisper.
Slate eyed the teen tiredly, but decided not to reply. They sat down on their bunk, only to jump when they felt something at their back. Looking over their shoulder, they noticed Gabbro splayed out on their stomach, arms and legs sprawled every which way on Slate’s mattress. The engineer clicked their tongue in annoyance. The 8-year-old hatchling was an opportunistic bed-hopper.
“Hey, so? So?” Feldspar whispered down to Slate from the top bunk, face poking over the edge of the mattress to watch the elder.
"So what?"
"How did it go?"
Slate didn’t look up, instead continuing to remove their boots, “Thought you saw for yourself,” they answered softly.
“Tch, yeah! It was boring as watching lichen grow! What was the big deal, anyways?” Feldspar said, their voice becoming less of a whisper with each word.
“Don’t act like you can’t wait for your own ceremony,” Slate mumbled back. They turned to pick Gabbro up off the bed. The hatchling somehow managed to weigh a ton when they were out cold. From experience Slate knew they wouldn't be able to wake them up, so they resigned themself to carrying them over to the bunk they shared with Marl. Not the least bit interested in using their waning energy to try hauling Gabbro onto the top bunk, Slate plopped the hatchling on their back next to their slumbering bunk mate. Marl made a noise, lifting their head off the pillow and looking around with barely-opened eyes.
“Shh! Go back to sleep,” Slate said in their no-nonsense voice. Marl promptly scooted over and dropped their face back into the pillow, grunting when Gabbro flung a leg across their back.
Slate sighed and walked back to their bed. They tore off their vest and shirt and threw them into a corner, and fell onto the mattress hard enough that the whole bunk creaked. After a moment, they felt something poking them in the back of the head through the pillow. They reached a hand underneath, pulling out the offending object. It was one of Gabbro's pet rocks. Grumbling under their breath, they tossed it out of sight, making sure to check for any more unwelcome surprises before flopping back down onto the mattress again with a huff. They stared at the wooden slats of the bunk above them, trying hard not to think of recent events.
Oh, things were gonna be really awkward in the morning.
...Maybe Gossan wouldn’t remember?
There was silence for a little while, broken every now and then by a sleepy mumble from one of their younger cabin mates.
“Do you guys really have to leave?” Feldspar suddenly whispered from above them.
That’s right. Feldspar wasn’t too happy that Slate and Gossan were moving out of the cabin soon. Gossan and Tuff would move into the cabin closest to the mines, while Slate and Esker would be sharing one next to the workshop.
Slate would be lying if they said they weren’t looking forward to it. The hatchling cabin had gotten cramped with the addition of Riebeck, then Marl, and most recently Halite. Not to mention there was a freshly hatched tadpole in Rutile's care (who still hadn't had their naming ceremony yet) who would surely be moved into the cabin as soon as possible.
Slate's thoughts returned to Feldspar, thankful for the distraction. The teen had entered the hatchling cabin much later than was the norm thanks to their sickly constitution. Slate still remembered how the younger had begged and begged Gneiss to let them live with their peers, but Gneiss had been adamant that they needed to get bigger and stronger first. Unfortunately for Feldspar, they stopped growing at the age of 12. But after going 3 whole seasons without a serious respiratory infection, Gneiss had aquiesced (partly thanks to Tektite's encouragement), and Slate never got to sleep in beyond sunrise from that day forward.
Smiling at the memories, Slate decided to indulge their younger friend a little, “What? Sad I won’t be here to tuck you in at night?” They joked.
“More like, I don't know how you’ll survive without seeing my handsome face every morning,” Feldspar chided back. Slate could hear the smile in the teen’s voice.
“Yeah yeah. I’m heartbroken, no really,” Slate joked back. Feldspar made a sound like ‘myeh’ above them. For a second, the elder considered kicking them, but decided against it, "Is this about you going to space? That's not on ice just because we're moving out."
"Better not be," Feldspar mumbled sulkily, "you promised."
"I know."
"In fact, being right next to the workshop will mean I actually have access to the things I need to design you a functional ship."
"Mmmkay. 'f you say so,"
"Quit sulking."
"'m not. G'night," the teen whispered, then turned over. There was silence again.
Which meant Slate was stuck with their thoughts for company.
They definitely didn't think about Gossan's flushed face... or the heat that radiated off of their body... or... or...
Why was it so dammed hard to not think?
Slate growled and kicked the bunk above them in frustration.
"What the-?!" Feldspar shouted down at them.
Slate grinned. Not because they were amused, but because of their nerves.
They probably wouldn't get much sleep tonight after all.
Tomorrow was going to be a looooooooong day.
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