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Entry tags:
Not sleeping, writing Shanks POV this time around
Title: Dawning
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,334
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
It was dark and extremely dusty in the back of main storage hold. Shanks pinched his nose yet again, swallowing back a sneeze as he tried to ignore the cramping in his knees. Perhaps he should tell someone to come clean down here. Or maybe not. That could be a tip-off. He shifted silently, squinting his left eye as it now stared through the knot hole into the other cargo space. It was filled primarily with liquor, Shanks being a firm proponent that alcohol can help pass the time and ease all problems. However, he wasn't hiding in the cobwebs and dust to spy on his booze. No, he was spying on a person. Ben had quickly adopted a corner of the hold, claiming it as his own personal space. No one had begrudged it. It was tiny, cramped, and just as dirty as the space Shanks was squeezed into. But Ben needed his privacy, his quiet, his quality personal time, and he had found a place that no one else ever stayed in for more than five minutes. A scrap of sail was spread on the floor, up against an empty barrel. A single kerosene lamp, anchored to both the barrel and the wall behind it created a patchwork of light and shadow over the small hold. Ben himself was leaning back against the barrel, a tattered, stained quilt over his knees as he pored over some book or other.
Shanks stifled another sneeze and tried to massage the feeling back into his foot. It had been over an hour, and not a single interesting thing had happened. This was true of the time before, and the time before that, and, well, every single time he'd snuck down to spy. Just once he wanted to catch his aloof first mate doing something...naughty. After all, Ben was a man, not that much older than himself. He had to get urges, too, right? And for some reason, Shanks really, really wanted to see that. Of course, it was just to have proof that Ben was human, at least that's what had been his initial reasoning. But, after the third or fourth time he'd wasted an afternoon in his cramped hiding spot, it wasn't so much about catching Ben in the act. It was still the main reason, of course, he assured himself. It was just that watching Ben read was also...nice. He liked being able to study him in complete privacy. The expressions that crossed Ben's face, the way he muttered to himself over details in his books, especially the way he'd suddenly erupt with laughter over something amusing.
Ben rarely laughed in company, Shanks had noticed. His laugh was infectious; loud and deep and surprisingly musical. Shanks had made it a personal goal to get Ben to laugh more, but so far he wasn't faring very well. Occasionally he wondered just what it was that Ben was reading to cause him to laugh. But the titles never helped. He wasn't sure what could be funny about governmental ties to the Seven Seas or economic policies on the Red Line. He'd tried getting Ben drunk and telling him dirty jokes. It was hard to get Ben drunk. He resisted more often than not, saying someone had to stay sober on the Wyvern in case of trouble. And the few times he did indulge, it took A LOT to get him soused. And the dirty jokes had made him blush, which Shanks had thought was cute, until Ben had retaliated with a few he had learned in the Marines. He couldn't deny the jokes were good, and very dirty, but it hadn't made Ben laugh.
And thinking of laughter, Ben was chuckling softly, shaking a little against the barrel as he rolled his eyes over something he'd just read. Shanks stared, his left eye glued to the hole in the rough wooden wall that hid him from the other. He'd never noticed how Ben's face shifted when he laughed, the long frown/study lines curving out and crinkling around his eyes. And his eyes, so very, very dark, managed to sparkle. Like a star in the sky, Shanks thought, before he mentally slapped himself for such lame thinking. And that mouth, lower lip caught between very white teeth as Ben struggled to keep the laughter in. It looked very...kissable.
Shanks fell back from the knot hole at his thought, hands flailing back to catch himself and the three green glass bottles he'd knocked off balance when he moved. Had he just thought that Ben was kissable? He considered for a moment, replaying every detail in slo-mo just to make sure. Yes, yes he had just thought Ben looked very attractive. And, if he would just go ahead and admit it, he often found Ben attractive. That was why he kept enduring the conditions of this tiny spy nest, because he liked to look at him. Ben had been a project, a puzzle to figure out, but now he was more. Not even a hobby, he had become an obsession. To continue being honest, he spent a lot of time around Ben, whether his first mate knew it or not. He liked his company, his wit, how much fun he was to harass. And, he liked the way Ben challenged him and supported him at the same time. It appeared he also liked to admire him, was attracted to him, which would explain certain dreams he'd been having lately. This was all very interesting. He wasn't used to hiding things from himself, but this...attachment...to Ben had managed to sneak up on him. It warranted much thought. But first he had to get out of the hold without getting caught, an act which would prove difficult as he struggled to contain yet another sneeze all the while trying to reposition the bottles.
His nose twitched, wrinkling up in a desparate attempt to restrain from the sneeze, but the dust finally proved victorious. With a loud "Achoooo", he jerked violently, falling back onto the deck with a loud thump, one of the bottles dropping from his hand to shatter on the floor. He swore loudly, scrambling to get up and away from the knot hole even as the door to the hold swung open, Ben peering into the murky darkness.
"Shanks?"
"Ahh, don't mind me. Just lookin' for somethin' when I sneezed, tripped over a box, and fell."
He couldn't see the raised eyebrow, but he could hear it in Ben's reply.
"I...see. Do you need any help?"
"Nah, 'm fine. But I think I should get someone to clean up down here. It's really dusty."
"That might be a good idea."
Shanks grinned to himself as he picked his way over the obstacle course layout of the room. Now he had a perfect excuse to get someone to clean. Ben was still at the door, book tucked under one arm. Shanks smiled at him and nodded to the book.
"Gonna read some more?"
Ben looked at him, looked down at the book, and then back at Shanks. He shook his head slowly.
"No, I think I've had enough for today." He paused, still looking at Shanks. "So...what are you doing?"
Shanks smirked slightly. He was prepared for this; it was best to have a reasonable excuse at hand if he was ever busted.
"I'm looking for my checker board. If I find it, do ya wanna play?"
"Checkers? Not chess?"
"Yeah, but I hafta warn you, I'm really good."
"Oh really. Fine, if you can find the board, I'll play a match."
Shanks nodded and turned back into the mess.
"Help me find it. I think it should be back here somewhere."
A few minutes later, the board was found and they headed up for the main deck, Shanks admiring a certain view as Ben climbed the stairs ahead of him. An evil idea slowly wormed its way through his brain.
"Say, do ya wanna make this more...interesting?"
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,334
Pairing: Shanks/Ben
It was dark and extremely dusty in the back of main storage hold. Shanks pinched his nose yet again, swallowing back a sneeze as he tried to ignore the cramping in his knees. Perhaps he should tell someone to come clean down here. Or maybe not. That could be a tip-off. He shifted silently, squinting his left eye as it now stared through the knot hole into the other cargo space. It was filled primarily with liquor, Shanks being a firm proponent that alcohol can help pass the time and ease all problems. However, he wasn't hiding in the cobwebs and dust to spy on his booze. No, he was spying on a person. Ben had quickly adopted a corner of the hold, claiming it as his own personal space. No one had begrudged it. It was tiny, cramped, and just as dirty as the space Shanks was squeezed into. But Ben needed his privacy, his quiet, his quality personal time, and he had found a place that no one else ever stayed in for more than five minutes. A scrap of sail was spread on the floor, up against an empty barrel. A single kerosene lamp, anchored to both the barrel and the wall behind it created a patchwork of light and shadow over the small hold. Ben himself was leaning back against the barrel, a tattered, stained quilt over his knees as he pored over some book or other.
Shanks stifled another sneeze and tried to massage the feeling back into his foot. It had been over an hour, and not a single interesting thing had happened. This was true of the time before, and the time before that, and, well, every single time he'd snuck down to spy. Just once he wanted to catch his aloof first mate doing something...naughty. After all, Ben was a man, not that much older than himself. He had to get urges, too, right? And for some reason, Shanks really, really wanted to see that. Of course, it was just to have proof that Ben was human, at least that's what had been his initial reasoning. But, after the third or fourth time he'd wasted an afternoon in his cramped hiding spot, it wasn't so much about catching Ben in the act. It was still the main reason, of course, he assured himself. It was just that watching Ben read was also...nice. He liked being able to study him in complete privacy. The expressions that crossed Ben's face, the way he muttered to himself over details in his books, especially the way he'd suddenly erupt with laughter over something amusing.
Ben rarely laughed in company, Shanks had noticed. His laugh was infectious; loud and deep and surprisingly musical. Shanks had made it a personal goal to get Ben to laugh more, but so far he wasn't faring very well. Occasionally he wondered just what it was that Ben was reading to cause him to laugh. But the titles never helped. He wasn't sure what could be funny about governmental ties to the Seven Seas or economic policies on the Red Line. He'd tried getting Ben drunk and telling him dirty jokes. It was hard to get Ben drunk. He resisted more often than not, saying someone had to stay sober on the Wyvern in case of trouble. And the few times he did indulge, it took A LOT to get him soused. And the dirty jokes had made him blush, which Shanks had thought was cute, until Ben had retaliated with a few he had learned in the Marines. He couldn't deny the jokes were good, and very dirty, but it hadn't made Ben laugh.
And thinking of laughter, Ben was chuckling softly, shaking a little against the barrel as he rolled his eyes over something he'd just read. Shanks stared, his left eye glued to the hole in the rough wooden wall that hid him from the other. He'd never noticed how Ben's face shifted when he laughed, the long frown/study lines curving out and crinkling around his eyes. And his eyes, so very, very dark, managed to sparkle. Like a star in the sky, Shanks thought, before he mentally slapped himself for such lame thinking. And that mouth, lower lip caught between very white teeth as Ben struggled to keep the laughter in. It looked very...kissable.
Shanks fell back from the knot hole at his thought, hands flailing back to catch himself and the three green glass bottles he'd knocked off balance when he moved. Had he just thought that Ben was kissable? He considered for a moment, replaying every detail in slo-mo just to make sure. Yes, yes he had just thought Ben looked very attractive. And, if he would just go ahead and admit it, he often found Ben attractive. That was why he kept enduring the conditions of this tiny spy nest, because he liked to look at him. Ben had been a project, a puzzle to figure out, but now he was more. Not even a hobby, he had become an obsession. To continue being honest, he spent a lot of time around Ben, whether his first mate knew it or not. He liked his company, his wit, how much fun he was to harass. And, he liked the way Ben challenged him and supported him at the same time. It appeared he also liked to admire him, was attracted to him, which would explain certain dreams he'd been having lately. This was all very interesting. He wasn't used to hiding things from himself, but this...attachment...to Ben had managed to sneak up on him. It warranted much thought. But first he had to get out of the hold without getting caught, an act which would prove difficult as he struggled to contain yet another sneeze all the while trying to reposition the bottles.
His nose twitched, wrinkling up in a desparate attempt to restrain from the sneeze, but the dust finally proved victorious. With a loud "Achoooo", he jerked violently, falling back onto the deck with a loud thump, one of the bottles dropping from his hand to shatter on the floor. He swore loudly, scrambling to get up and away from the knot hole even as the door to the hold swung open, Ben peering into the murky darkness.
"Shanks?"
"Ahh, don't mind me. Just lookin' for somethin' when I sneezed, tripped over a box, and fell."
He couldn't see the raised eyebrow, but he could hear it in Ben's reply.
"I...see. Do you need any help?"
"Nah, 'm fine. But I think I should get someone to clean up down here. It's really dusty."
"That might be a good idea."
Shanks grinned to himself as he picked his way over the obstacle course layout of the room. Now he had a perfect excuse to get someone to clean. Ben was still at the door, book tucked under one arm. Shanks smiled at him and nodded to the book.
"Gonna read some more?"
Ben looked at him, looked down at the book, and then back at Shanks. He shook his head slowly.
"No, I think I've had enough for today." He paused, still looking at Shanks. "So...what are you doing?"
Shanks smirked slightly. He was prepared for this; it was best to have a reasonable excuse at hand if he was ever busted.
"I'm looking for my checker board. If I find it, do ya wanna play?"
"Checkers? Not chess?"
"Yeah, but I hafta warn you, I'm really good."
"Oh really. Fine, if you can find the board, I'll play a match."
Shanks nodded and turned back into the mess.
"Help me find it. I think it should be back here somewhere."
A few minutes later, the board was found and they headed up for the main deck, Shanks admiring a certain view as Ben climbed the stairs ahead of him. An evil idea slowly wormed its way through his brain.
"Say, do ya wanna make this more...interesting?"