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Small pebbles skittered across the ground as Joll swung the pickaxe through the surface of the ore. His arms were burning and his hands shook, stomach burning from hunger. There was little food in these caves, but if he and Conk were to survive without Golem and Kibble, they'd need armor and torches.
At least in the caves they could control where the mobs came from – ahead. On the surface, mobs came from every direction, and in Hardcore Civilization, all of them were bloodthirsty and willing to kill on sight.
This was by far the most dangerous world Joll and his friends had adventured to. Joll could only hope Kibble and Golem were safe.
Just focus on mining. Just keep swinging. Don't think about it. Focus on survival.
The iron he was mining fell apart in a shower of rubble, dropping two pieces of raw iron and showing bare stone beyond. That was the end of the vein, probably. Joll would have picked the surrounding stone to check for diagonal pieces, but he could barely lift his pickaxe.
He opened his inventory. He had twenty-one pieces of coal and seven iron. Only seven? It felt like he'd been mining for hours. Maybe ores were rarer in this civilization.
He glanced at his hunger bar. It was shivering, on two shanks and depleting fast. He'd rarely ever been this close to starving before. Joll needed to make his way back to Conk, and quick, before he starved to death in these mines.
He tried to rush forward into a sprint, but his legs fumbled underneath him and he nearly lost his balance. Bracing himself against the cave wall to regain his composure, he shook off the lightheaddedness and began to make his way back more slowly.
By the time he had followed the winding tunnels back to camp, Joll was stumbling and close to fainting from hunger. One lone shank hovered in his hunger bar and was soon to fall to half.
“Conk…” Joll called once he saw the campfire's glow lighting up the cave. Movement drew Joll's eye, and there sat Conk, his weathered stone skin blending in with the cave wall.
Now in safety, Joll let the pickaxe fall from his grasp and gave in to the dizzy fog pulling him to the ground. He opened his inventory again to catch his hunger bar dropping to its last half shank. As it did, ravenous hunger stabbed at his stomach, and he curled inward from the pain.
Conk was a bit slow, but even he knew when his friend was in trouble. He approached Joll and kneeled next to him, frowning in worry.
“Joll,” said Conk in his strange monotone. “What's wrong.”
Joll groaned and replied, “‘M starving… Conk, do you have any food?”
“Yes. I have steak.” Conk reached into his inventory and casually pulled out a holy grail of meat.
“Oh my god, Conk, you're a lifesaver!” Joll eagerly took the steak and started tearing into it ravenously.
“You're welcome,” Conk said.
Joll feasted on the steak, unable to think of anything but sating his hunger for a little while, but once his hunger bar was no longer dangerously low he forced himself to slow down. No point in overeating – they needed to save their food.
Once he'd eaten his fill, he tried to stand up, but he teetered again and nearly fell on his tail. Conk caught him and helped him to the ground again.
“You're so clumsy, Joll,” Conk said. Joll could tell he was teasing.
Joll laughed. “No, I just need a minute. I'm still a little faint. I was about to starve.”
“Then why didn't you eat something.”
“I didn't have anything!”
“You should have asked for food before you left.”
“I – yeah, okay, I probably should have. That was pretty stupid of me.”
“That’s okay, Joll,” said Conk, patting Joll on the shoulder. “I'm smart enough for the both of us.”
Joll snorted. “Sure, Conk.”
The playful sarcasm seemed to go over Conk's head as he puffed out his chest in pride.
“Can you help me to the crafting table?” Joll asked. “I need to make a furnace for the iron I mined.”
“Yes. Grab onto me.”
Joll hooked an arm around Conk's stone neck. He felt as cold as the cave walls that surrounded them. Conk lifted Joll up to stand, and bracing himself against Conk's weight prevented Joll from faltering at all.
Conk brought him to the crafting table, where he managed to sit on his knees to reach the workstation on top. His strength was thankfully already beginning to return now that he'd eaten.
He took the cobblestone from his inventory and fashioned themselves a furnace. He then placed it next to their crafting table, shovelled in half their coal, and started smelting the raw iron he'd harvested.
Joll yawned and leaned against the warm furnace, shivering in the damp cave air. He drew his tail up closer to him, draping it over his feet to warm them.
Conk plopped down next to him and tilted his head onto Joll's shoulder. “I'm cold.”
“You're a rock,” Joll pointed out with a smile.
“My name is Conk.”
Joll laughed again. “Sorry. I'm cold too. Do we have any blankets?”
“No. Just a bed.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure.”
Conk handed him the little bed structure and Joll placed it on the floor. It sprang up into a life-sized twin bed, complete with a comforter, pillow, and fitted sheet. Joll pulled off the comforter and crawled with it back to Conk and the furnace.
He threw the blanket over both of their shoulders and leaned back against the furnace with a sigh. Conk immediately cuddled back up to him.
Conk was always a bit touchy-feely. Whether it was grabbing Joll's arm when he got excited, giving hugs in celebration, or just plain cuddling like he was now, Conk liked to be close to people. Mostly Joll. Sure, he'd wrestle with Kibble or even get a pat on the head from Golem, but often he was glued to Joll at the hip. And Joll didn't mind, really. He got lonely easily, and Conk always being around kept that to a minimum.
Conk's cold skin felt nice now that he wasn't exposed to the cave air. It kept him from becoming too warm from the furnace, and feeling Conk's chest rise and fall with each breath soothed him somewhat.
The furnace light began to die down, and when Joll leaned forward to check the iron, he saw it had all been smelted into ingots.
“Conk, look!” Joll pulled out the ingots and showed them to his friend. “We can make swords now!”
“I don't need a sword. I have TNT.”
Joll sighed. “Well, I think we'll still have enough to at least make you some armor.”
“Yay!” Conk said. Joll smiled fondly at the excitement in his voice.
Joll gingerly stood up, testing his balance. Conk watched him in case he wobbled, but Joll seemed to be pretty stable now. Taking some wood out of his inventory, Joll broke the logs into planks, then sticks. He arranged one stick with two iron ingots in the crafting table, and from them he forged a shining iron sword. He picked it up and tested the weapon's balance for a moment, before using the leftover five iron to make an iron helmet for Conk.
“What did you make,” asked Conk.
By way of answer, Joll put the helmet onto Conk's head with a metallic scraping noise.
“A hat!” Conk was overjoyed. He raised his hands to the helmet, shifting it so it fit more snugly.
“Very stylish,” Joll said, smiling.
“You're such a flirt,” Conk replied. Joll thought he was joking, but it still gave him a swooping feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“What,” Joll said blankly, like he always does when Conk says something out of pocket and his brain needs to catch up to what he said.
“You heard me.” Okay, he was definitely joking. Joll could see his smirk.
“Dude. I like girls.”
“The closet is glass.”
Joll sighed. Conk teasing him was nothing new. He didn't know what was ruffling his fins about it now.
“Did I hurt your feelings,” Conk asked. He must have picked up on the pointed silence.
“No! No.” Joll's fins flared a little bit in agitation. His face felt warm. “I think I'm just… on edge. Sorry.”
Conk stared at him for a moment. Joll could practically hear the cogs turning. “You're blushing,” he stated. Joll couldn't quite read his face.
Joll could feel his face turning even more red. He swished his tail along the floor and shifted a bit where he sat. “Just getting warm.”
Conk experimentally pulled the blankets from Joll's shoulders.
“Hey!” Joll tried to grab them back.
“You're not that warm.”
“Okay, fine, what's your –” Joll was interrupted by Conk putting a hand to his forehead.
“Whaaat are you doing.”
“You're acting weird,” said Conk. “I'm checking for fever. You're burning up.”
Joll swatted him away. “That's because your body temperature is, like, 70 degrees.”
“You're cold-blooded.”
“But then I couldn't blush.”
“True.”
“Look, Conk, I'm fine,” Joll said. “I just – I don't want to talk about it. Okay?”
“Joll.”
“What?”
“Do you like me.”
“What?”
“Do you like me,” Conk repeated. “Like you like girls.”
“I –” Did he? He didn't, surely. This all must just be his fight or flight response from almost starving or something. Right?
Conk was his best friend, and he did want to hang out with him for the rest of his life… and he also liked how he joked and made him feel wanted… and maybe… he wanted to be able to be closer to him… but he was straight. He was straight. Right?
Joll swallowed and said the only truth he could. “I-I don't know.”
Conk didn't say anything, which was unlike him. He just looked at him. All the while, that swoop in Joll's stomach was twisting into a gale of nerves.
“Do… do you like me? Like that?” asked Joll.
Conk seemed to think for a moment. Eventually he replied, “No. Not like a girl.”
Joll felt the gale in his stomach freeze into lead.
But then Conk continued. “...But I don't think I like you like I like Kibble. Not like a friend.”
Joll felt his breathing quicken. “Conk… what are you saying?”
“I think I like you… like a boy.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
Joll hesitated for just a second. Then, before he could really think about it, he leaned in and lightly kissed his best friend.
The kiss was soft, and Conk almost seemed startled by it for a moment before he leaned into Joll's lips and returned the kiss. They held against each other for a few seconds before Joll pulled back, anxiously searching Conk's face to see if this was okay.
Joll almost expected Conk to crack some one-liner, but instead Conk grabbed him by the cheeks and kissed him again, and again, and again. Joll felt dizzy. Conk was right. This was nothing like kissing girls. Joll was lost in the ebb and flow of the tide as Conk practically made out with him.
Joll was brought out of the reverie, gills flared and lungs panting, when Conk paused with his forehead against Joll's. Joll wanted him to keep going – he felt almost hungry for another hit of that daze. But he also couldn't deny just sitting here with Conk like this was almost as good.
Joll felt his brain start to turn back on. “Conk – what are we doing?”
“Kissing,” Conk said, a bit quieter than usual. “Do you like it?”
Joll nodded feverishly as he leaned in for another kiss, which Conk gladly returned.
“So much for being straight,” Conk muttered against his lips. There was that one-liner Joll was expecting.
Joll pushed him away playfully. “You're terrible.”
“I’m just stating facts.”
“While I'm kissing you? Not very gentlemanly of you.”
“Who said I'm a gentleman. I'm a bad boy. That's why the chicks love me.”
Joll sighed again. He wasn't winning this one. “Sure, Conk.”
Conk, satisfied with his sucess, leaned into Joll again and cuddled up. Joll snaked his arm behind him and put it over Conk's shoulders.
Joll was still a little in shock from the whirlwind he'd just been through. As nervous as he was, though, this just felt right. Guess he really wasn't straight anymore.
Conk yawned widely. “What time is it.”
“Uhh… I'm not really sure,” Joll replied. “Probably night, though. We've been down here a while.”
“Can we sleep.”
“Yeah, we can. We only have one bed, though.”
“That's okay. I like the floor.”
“You sure?” Joll looked down at him to try to read his expression.
“I'm sure.” He had a faint smile.
Joll shrugged. “Well, if you say so. But if you need to, we can switch, alright?”
“Okay.”
Joll stood up with the blanket, and Conk moved closer to the campfire for warmth instead.
Joll took the blanket back to the bed and curled up in it, bringing his tail in close. The bed felt cold, now that he was farther from the fire. He shivered under the covers for a bit, trying to warm up enough to drift off.
After a while, though, he began to get frustrated. He just couldn't get warm. Rolling over to face the fire, he saw Conk curled up practically on the campfire's edge. His stone body was invulnerable to fire, of course. It must be comfortable to feel the deep warmth of the hearth.
Joll had an idea, but it made his stomach flutter with nerves. Which was stupid. They had literally just made out. But as touchy as Conk liked to be, they'd never done anything like this.
Joll swallowed his fear. “Conk?” he called softly. “Are you awake?”
A sleepy grunt from his friend answered him. Slowly Conk rolled over to face Joll.
“Conk… do you want to come lay in the bed with me?”
Conk actually looked a little surprised at that. “Why.”
“I-I just can't get warm,” Joll stuttered. “I figured you would have absorbed the heat from the fire.”
“No other reason?” Conk teased.
Joll blushed. “Okay. Maybe other reasons too. But mostly that one.”
“Don't worry, Joll,” Conk said, standing. “Kibble gets cold sometimes too.”
“Yeah, but Kibble's a dog.” Joll pulled back the covers to let Conk under.
“He still gets cold.”
“Nevermind.”
As soon as Conk settled under the blanket, the change in temperature was heavenly. His stone skin was no longer cold – instead, he radiated soft warmth that immediately stopped Joll's shivering. Joll tentatively edged closer, and when Conk didn't protest, he wrapped his arms around him and cuddled in close.
Conk yawned again and put an arm around Joll, warming him even more. Joll's eyelids fluttered as the warmth and all the exertion from the day began to pull him under.
“Is this better,” Conk asked.
“Mm-hmm,” Joll replied sleepily. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“Night, Conk.”
“Goodnight, Joll.”
And with that, Joll let his eyes close and he slipped into the soft darkness of sleep.