A New Beginning (Orlijah) R (2/?)
Mar. 2nd, 2011 10:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moit_ficsTitle: A New Beginning (2/?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moit
Pairing: Shy/Sandy
Fandom: Haven/Flipper crossover
Summary: Sandy, a bright sunny boy spending the summer in the Cayman Islands, falls into the lap of Shy, a quiet dockhand.
Rating: R
Genre: Romance, angst
Warnings: mentions of het, mentions of murder, mentions of past violence
Word Count: 2,660
Previous Chapter here
Shy snuffled, snorted, and awoke. He found Sandy’s deep blue eyes staring back at him. “Hey,” he said eloquently, his voice scratchy from sleep.
“Hey,” Sandy replied, sliding a hand up under his own cheek.
The two stared at one another for a long minute. Shy thought that Sandy looked adorably lovely, his formerly styled hair a bedraggled mess. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and fingered the bit at Sandy’s temple. Silky soft.
Sandy inched closer and Shy rolled over so that the younger boy could cuddle up against him. Shy’s hand went to Sandy’s bare back, tracing the bumps of his spine. Now, this was contentment.
But the sound of the front door opening and closing caused Shy to bolt upright, toppling Sandy to the bed next to him. “Shit,” he hissed as his mum’s voice called out to him.
“Shy! Shy, are you—” The door flew open and Claire’s expression went from calm to shock. She slammed the door shut loud enough to rattle the thin walls of Shy’s room. “Shy! Get dressed and get out here! Both of you!”
Sandy shot Shy a nervous glance. Shy nodded back morosely. His mum wasn’t supposed to be home until Sunday, so he and Sandy should have had the morning (at least) to themselves. So distracted was he trying to pull on a pair of cloth trousers and a t-shirt, that Shy didn’t even bother watching Sandy clothe his appealingly nude form with his outfit from the previous night.
But before Sandy could open the door, Shy grabbed him about the middle and rubbed a kiss into the top of his head. “Just let me do the talking,” he whispered.
Claire was red-faced, her arms crossed over her chest when the boys emerged. She pointed to the couch, her hand trembling visibly. “Sit.”
Shy and Sandy sat side-by-side on the couch, close enough to feel each other’s body heat, but far enough to keep Claire’s anger from escalating. Shy couldn’t stop himself from brushing his bare toes against the side of Sandy’s foot.
For a long while, Claire just paced in front of them like a caged tiger. Then she dropped into the armchair and rubbed her fingertips over her temples. Finally, she looked up at them and Shy felt his stomach drop as the guilt started to creep in.
“Shy, what am I going to do with you?”
Shy glanced nervously at Sandy, but before he could answer, his mum continued.
“Are you rebelling against me, or something? Have I wronged you somehow? For so many years, I worried that you’d never be . . .” she paused and rubbed her eyes. “Like other kids. Then you started to come out of your shell, you made some friends. . . . But I feel like you’ve been going downhill ever since you graduated high school. It’s as though you can’t leave that life behind you.” She looked at Sandy and her gaze softened. “How old are you, love?”
Sandy cleared his throat. “Nineteen, ma’am.”
Claire gave Shy a pointed look. “Nineteen.”
“Mum, I didn’t—”
“I’m not finished, yet, Shy.”
Shy’s shoulders rounded and he lowered his head like a puppy that knew he was in trouble. He braced himself for the blow.
“You can’t just keep . . .” she sighed again and pursed her lips. “Were you two at least safe?”
“Yes, mum!” He looked down at hands that were shaking in his lap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would be home until Sunday.”
“And that’s supposed to make it acceptable?”
“No, but . . .”
“Shy, I know things have been . . . difficult . . . for you, but I just don’t want you making decisions that you’re going to regret in a few years. You’re a good kid. You just need to pay attention to what you’re doing.”
Shy’s head shot up. “But that’s just the thing, mum. I’m not a kid! I’m twenty-three and I can make my own decisions!”
“Not while you’re living under my roof.”
“Then maybe I don’t want to live under your roof anymore!”
“You don’t mean that,” Claire said gently.
Shy looked back down at his lap. Of course he didn’t mean it, but it seemed like the right thing to say at the time. Beside him, Sandy shifted uncomfortably.
“Maybe, I should go . . .” Sandy said, starting to stand up, but Shy put a hand on his thigh.
“No,” Shy and Claire said together. Shy gave his mum a confused look.
“Shy’s right, Sandy. As long as you two were safe, I can’t really be angry. However, I do not want to find out that you’ve had anyone over while I was gone without asking first,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Shy.
“Yes, mum,” Shy said, acquiescing.
Claire stood up. “Well, come on then, I’ll make us all some breakfast and Sandy can tell me how he came to be in my house this morning.”
Sandy shot Shy a questionable glance, but Shy just shrugged. “Better take her up on it before she starts throwing toast at you.”
Sandy grinned despite the situation and followed Shy into the kitchen.
“So Sandy, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me how you met my son,” Claire said, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.
Sandy rolled his lips in like he was trying not to laugh. He glanced at Shy, who gave him an innocent look. “I work for Shy,” he said finally. “Didn’t he tell you?”
Claire looked at her son, but Shy kept his head down and began shoveling eggs into his mouth. She sighed. “No, he didn’t. For how long?”
Sandy shrugged. “A few weeks now. My uncle and I are staying down here for the summer. I needed some work, and one of the men down by the docks said that Shy needed help.”
“So you just helped yourself to this little treasure, hey Shy?”
“Mum!”
“If Shy hadn’t asked me over for dinner, I would have asked him out before too long,” Sandy admitted.
“Well, at least he’s cute,” Claire said, giving Sandy a smirk.
“Mum, honestly!” Shy said, heat flooding his cheeks. But at least she liked Sandy. After all, she hadn’t even let Andrea in the house.
*
Shy shut the door behind Sandy and turned to face his mum. She was sitting on the couch with an expected look on her face. Shy sighed. He knew this was coming, but somehow he’d hoped he could get around it. No such luck.
He sat down in the chair next to the couch.
“Shy,” Claire started and then sighed. “I am so worried that you’re just going to get hurt again. Andrea—”
“Andrea was a mistake, mum. And Sandy doesn’t have any angry brothers, I promise.” His attempt at humour fell flat. Though it showed his own gradual acceptance of his disfiguration, Claire was not amused.
“He may not, but what do you really know about him? How do you know that this uncle of his isn’t going to shoot you for messing about with his nephew? Your accident could have been a lot worse, Shy, but you’re alive.”
“Mum, I’ll be fine.” Shy’s tone started to get agitated. “Sandy’s uncle knows that he’s gay. There won’t be any trouble.”
“And what about when he goes home at the end of the summer, Shy? What then?”
Shy was quiet. He didn’t have an answer for that.
Claire shook her head. “You need to stop hanging out with these kids, because that’s what they are. They’re just kids who are out for a bit of fun. If you’re looking for something serious, then you need to find some friends your own age.”
“Maybe I am just looking for a bit of fun! Why do you automatically assume that I want something serious?”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt. Last time was bad enough,” Claire said softly.
“This won’t be like last time.” Shy stood up. “I’m going for a bike ride. You can’t protect me forever.”
As Shy walked to the door, Claire called after him, “But I can try!”
*
At first, Shy just meandered about the Island, riding along familiar streets. His old bike was lost after the night he spent with Andrea when Hammer chased him away from the house. Since Kimo had fallen asleep instead of throwing a rock at Andrea’s window to wake them up, Shy had deemed the last bike Kimo’s fault. But true to form, his friend found him a new one, which Shy would have sworn was the exact same bike, had the colour not been different.
He found Kimo on his own bike down by the water.
“Yo, Kimo!” he called, riding up beside him.
“Shy, my man,” Kimo said, stopping to greet his friend with a handshake.
“How’s it going, man?” Shy asked, his accent shifting to reflect Kimo’s more heavily.
“Very good, my friend. How was your date last night? Didja get lucky?” he waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
Shy grinned and ducked his head. “None of your business, man. You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Ahh, he did!” Kimo taunted, punching Shy in the arm.
“But my mum came home this morning! She found us in bed together!”
Kimo made a sympathetic face. “Did he sneak out the window? Because that didn’t exactly work for ya last time.”
“Funny,” Shy replied sarcastically. He wasn’t as touchy about what had happened with Andrea anymore, but Kimo usually know how to stay on the safe side of teasing. “No, he stayed. And my mum . . . actually made us breakfast. After she gave us a lecture, of course.”
“Ya get off easy, man!” Kimo said, his face full of surprise. “So maybe you’ll bring your new boy to a party tonight? Eh?”
Shy made a face and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Last time I went to a party . . . Sandy doesn’t need to go to an Island party. Neither do I.”
“Ahh, but come on! This is one of me friends, I promise. Just a small party and Richie Rich isn’t even interested in going, it’s so low-key.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Look, bring your friend Patrick. And your boy, of course. Check it out a bit, and if ya guys don’t want to stay, then ya have wheels.”
Shy shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll think about it. I’m gonna get going, though. If I don’t see you tonight, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“You’ll see me around if you’re not to busy with your boy!” Kimo called after him as he rode away.
Shy couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the thought of Sandy.
*
His mum was gone, probably back to work, when Shy got home. He leaned his bike against the side of the house and walked in, his gaze gravitating to the phone in the kitchen. It would be his call, would it not? He was the one who had initiated the date. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if Sandy expected this to be a one-time thing.
Sod it.
He picked up the phone and dialed the numbers he’d already memorised, even though this was the first time he actually used them. As the phone rang, he twisted the cord around his fingers nervously. He was about to just hang up when a gruff voice answered.
“Yeah?”
Shy contemplating hanging up. “Hello, may I speak with Sandy, please?”
“Who’s this?”
“Shy.”
Silence on the other end, and for a moment, Shy worried the man had hung up on him. “You’re the bloke Sandy works for down at the docks, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Shy replied, feeling his throat begin to knot up. He had to unwind the phone cord from his fingers because they were starting to turn purple.
“I hear you’ve taken a bit of a fancy to my nephew.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t you think you’re a bit old for him?”
“Respectfully, Sir, I would say that’s Sandy’s decision to make,” Shy answered, praying he hadn’t just said the wrong thing.
He wasn’t prepared for the man’s deep laughter in his ear. “Well, boy, I suppose you’re right. Hold on and I’ll fetch Sandy.”
A moment later, Sandy’s warm voice came across the line. Shy could hear the smile in his voice. “I thought it was customary to call the morning after.”
“It is the morning after. Technically,” Shy replied, relaxing down into one of the kitchen chairs.
“I hope Porter didn’t give you too hard of a time.”
“Nah, he’s a kitten compared to what I’ve been through.”
Sandy hummed softly and Shy knew he’d accidently diverted into awkward territory. Sometimes it was hard to remember that everyone else didn’t deal with his past as easily as he did.
“So anyway,” Shy cleared his throat. “I know it’s a bit short notice, and you only left a little while ago, but I was wondering if you’d like to go to a party tonight.”
“Sure.”
Shy had to physically stop himself from jumping up and down. Despite the excitement racing through his body, he managed to keep his voice calm. “Okay, great. I’ll pick you up at eight, is that all right?”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you tonight then.”
“Ta.”
Shy laid the phone in its cradle and collapsed back into the chair. With Sandy at his side, he could face this party as well as his past. It almost made him want to reconcile things with Andrea. Well, almost.
Author:
moitPairing: Shy/Sandy
Fandom: Haven/Flipper crossover
Summary: Sandy, a bright sunny boy spending the summer in the Cayman Islands, falls into the lap of Shy, a quiet dockhand.
Rating: R
Genre: Romance, angst
Warnings: mentions of het, mentions of murder, mentions of past violence
Word Count: 2,660
Previous Chapter here
Shy snuffled, snorted, and awoke. He found Sandy’s deep blue eyes staring back at him. “Hey,” he said eloquently, his voice scratchy from sleep.
“Hey,” Sandy replied, sliding a hand up under his own cheek.
The two stared at one another for a long minute. Shy thought that Sandy looked adorably lovely, his formerly styled hair a bedraggled mess. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and fingered the bit at Sandy’s temple. Silky soft.
Sandy inched closer and Shy rolled over so that the younger boy could cuddle up against him. Shy’s hand went to Sandy’s bare back, tracing the bumps of his spine. Now, this was contentment.
But the sound of the front door opening and closing caused Shy to bolt upright, toppling Sandy to the bed next to him. “Shit,” he hissed as his mum’s voice called out to him.
“Shy! Shy, are you—” The door flew open and Claire’s expression went from calm to shock. She slammed the door shut loud enough to rattle the thin walls of Shy’s room. “Shy! Get dressed and get out here! Both of you!”
Sandy shot Shy a nervous glance. Shy nodded back morosely. His mum wasn’t supposed to be home until Sunday, so he and Sandy should have had the morning (at least) to themselves. So distracted was he trying to pull on a pair of cloth trousers and a t-shirt, that Shy didn’t even bother watching Sandy clothe his appealingly nude form with his outfit from the previous night.
But before Sandy could open the door, Shy grabbed him about the middle and rubbed a kiss into the top of his head. “Just let me do the talking,” he whispered.
Claire was red-faced, her arms crossed over her chest when the boys emerged. She pointed to the couch, her hand trembling visibly. “Sit.”
Shy and Sandy sat side-by-side on the couch, close enough to feel each other’s body heat, but far enough to keep Claire’s anger from escalating. Shy couldn’t stop himself from brushing his bare toes against the side of Sandy’s foot.
For a long while, Claire just paced in front of them like a caged tiger. Then she dropped into the armchair and rubbed her fingertips over her temples. Finally, she looked up at them and Shy felt his stomach drop as the guilt started to creep in.
“Shy, what am I going to do with you?”
Shy glanced nervously at Sandy, but before he could answer, his mum continued.
“Are you rebelling against me, or something? Have I wronged you somehow? For so many years, I worried that you’d never be . . .” she paused and rubbed her eyes. “Like other kids. Then you started to come out of your shell, you made some friends. . . . But I feel like you’ve been going downhill ever since you graduated high school. It’s as though you can’t leave that life behind you.” She looked at Sandy and her gaze softened. “How old are you, love?”
Sandy cleared his throat. “Nineteen, ma’am.”
Claire gave Shy a pointed look. “Nineteen.”
“Mum, I didn’t—”
“I’m not finished, yet, Shy.”
Shy’s shoulders rounded and he lowered his head like a puppy that knew he was in trouble. He braced himself for the blow.
“You can’t just keep . . .” she sighed again and pursed her lips. “Were you two at least safe?”
“Yes, mum!” He looked down at hands that were shaking in his lap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would be home until Sunday.”
“And that’s supposed to make it acceptable?”
“No, but . . .”
“Shy, I know things have been . . . difficult . . . for you, but I just don’t want you making decisions that you’re going to regret in a few years. You’re a good kid. You just need to pay attention to what you’re doing.”
Shy’s head shot up. “But that’s just the thing, mum. I’m not a kid! I’m twenty-three and I can make my own decisions!”
“Not while you’re living under my roof.”
“Then maybe I don’t want to live under your roof anymore!”
“You don’t mean that,” Claire said gently.
Shy looked back down at his lap. Of course he didn’t mean it, but it seemed like the right thing to say at the time. Beside him, Sandy shifted uncomfortably.
“Maybe, I should go . . .” Sandy said, starting to stand up, but Shy put a hand on his thigh.
“No,” Shy and Claire said together. Shy gave his mum a confused look.
“Shy’s right, Sandy. As long as you two were safe, I can’t really be angry. However, I do not want to find out that you’ve had anyone over while I was gone without asking first,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Shy.
“Yes, mum,” Shy said, acquiescing.
Claire stood up. “Well, come on then, I’ll make us all some breakfast and Sandy can tell me how he came to be in my house this morning.”
Sandy shot Shy a questionable glance, but Shy just shrugged. “Better take her up on it before she starts throwing toast at you.”
Sandy grinned despite the situation and followed Shy into the kitchen.
“So Sandy, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me how you met my son,” Claire said, setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.
Sandy rolled his lips in like he was trying not to laugh. He glanced at Shy, who gave him an innocent look. “I work for Shy,” he said finally. “Didn’t he tell you?”
Claire looked at her son, but Shy kept his head down and began shoveling eggs into his mouth. She sighed. “No, he didn’t. For how long?”
Sandy shrugged. “A few weeks now. My uncle and I are staying down here for the summer. I needed some work, and one of the men down by the docks said that Shy needed help.”
“So you just helped yourself to this little treasure, hey Shy?”
“Mum!”
“If Shy hadn’t asked me over for dinner, I would have asked him out before too long,” Sandy admitted.
“Well, at least he’s cute,” Claire said, giving Sandy a smirk.
“Mum, honestly!” Shy said, heat flooding his cheeks. But at least she liked Sandy. After all, she hadn’t even let Andrea in the house.
*
Shy shut the door behind Sandy and turned to face his mum. She was sitting on the couch with an expected look on her face. Shy sighed. He knew this was coming, but somehow he’d hoped he could get around it. No such luck.
He sat down in the chair next to the couch.
“Shy,” Claire started and then sighed. “I am so worried that you’re just going to get hurt again. Andrea—”
“Andrea was a mistake, mum. And Sandy doesn’t have any angry brothers, I promise.” His attempt at humour fell flat. Though it showed his own gradual acceptance of his disfiguration, Claire was not amused.
“He may not, but what do you really know about him? How do you know that this uncle of his isn’t going to shoot you for messing about with his nephew? Your accident could have been a lot worse, Shy, but you’re alive.”
“Mum, I’ll be fine.” Shy’s tone started to get agitated. “Sandy’s uncle knows that he’s gay. There won’t be any trouble.”
“And what about when he goes home at the end of the summer, Shy? What then?”
Shy was quiet. He didn’t have an answer for that.
Claire shook her head. “You need to stop hanging out with these kids, because that’s what they are. They’re just kids who are out for a bit of fun. If you’re looking for something serious, then you need to find some friends your own age.”
“Maybe I am just looking for a bit of fun! Why do you automatically assume that I want something serious?”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt. Last time was bad enough,” Claire said softly.
“This won’t be like last time.” Shy stood up. “I’m going for a bike ride. You can’t protect me forever.”
As Shy walked to the door, Claire called after him, “But I can try!”
*
At first, Shy just meandered about the Island, riding along familiar streets. His old bike was lost after the night he spent with Andrea when Hammer chased him away from the house. Since Kimo had fallen asleep instead of throwing a rock at Andrea’s window to wake them up, Shy had deemed the last bike Kimo’s fault. But true to form, his friend found him a new one, which Shy would have sworn was the exact same bike, had the colour not been different.
He found Kimo on his own bike down by the water.
“Yo, Kimo!” he called, riding up beside him.
“Shy, my man,” Kimo said, stopping to greet his friend with a handshake.
“How’s it going, man?” Shy asked, his accent shifting to reflect Kimo’s more heavily.
“Very good, my friend. How was your date last night? Didja get lucky?” he waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
Shy grinned and ducked his head. “None of your business, man. You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Ahh, he did!” Kimo taunted, punching Shy in the arm.
“But my mum came home this morning! She found us in bed together!”
Kimo made a sympathetic face. “Did he sneak out the window? Because that didn’t exactly work for ya last time.”
“Funny,” Shy replied sarcastically. He wasn’t as touchy about what had happened with Andrea anymore, but Kimo usually know how to stay on the safe side of teasing. “No, he stayed. And my mum . . . actually made us breakfast. After she gave us a lecture, of course.”
“Ya get off easy, man!” Kimo said, his face full of surprise. “So maybe you’ll bring your new boy to a party tonight? Eh?”
Shy made a face and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Last time I went to a party . . . Sandy doesn’t need to go to an Island party. Neither do I.”
“Ahh, but come on! This is one of me friends, I promise. Just a small party and Richie Rich isn’t even interested in going, it’s so low-key.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Look, bring your friend Patrick. And your boy, of course. Check it out a bit, and if ya guys don’t want to stay, then ya have wheels.”
Shy shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll think about it. I’m gonna get going, though. If I don’t see you tonight, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“You’ll see me around if you’re not to busy with your boy!” Kimo called after him as he rode away.
Shy couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the thought of Sandy.
*
His mum was gone, probably back to work, when Shy got home. He leaned his bike against the side of the house and walked in, his gaze gravitating to the phone in the kitchen. It would be his call, would it not? He was the one who had initiated the date. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if Sandy expected this to be a one-time thing.
Sod it.
He picked up the phone and dialed the numbers he’d already memorised, even though this was the first time he actually used them. As the phone rang, he twisted the cord around his fingers nervously. He was about to just hang up when a gruff voice answered.
“Yeah?”
Shy contemplating hanging up. “Hello, may I speak with Sandy, please?”
“Who’s this?”
“Shy.”
Silence on the other end, and for a moment, Shy worried the man had hung up on him. “You’re the bloke Sandy works for down at the docks, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Shy replied, feeling his throat begin to knot up. He had to unwind the phone cord from his fingers because they were starting to turn purple.
“I hear you’ve taken a bit of a fancy to my nephew.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t you think you’re a bit old for him?”
“Respectfully, Sir, I would say that’s Sandy’s decision to make,” Shy answered, praying he hadn’t just said the wrong thing.
He wasn’t prepared for the man’s deep laughter in his ear. “Well, boy, I suppose you’re right. Hold on and I’ll fetch Sandy.”
A moment later, Sandy’s warm voice came across the line. Shy could hear the smile in his voice. “I thought it was customary to call the morning after.”
“It is the morning after. Technically,” Shy replied, relaxing down into one of the kitchen chairs.
“I hope Porter didn’t give you too hard of a time.”
“Nah, he’s a kitten compared to what I’ve been through.”
Sandy hummed softly and Shy knew he’d accidently diverted into awkward territory. Sometimes it was hard to remember that everyone else didn’t deal with his past as easily as he did.
“So anyway,” Shy cleared his throat. “I know it’s a bit short notice, and you only left a little while ago, but I was wondering if you’d like to go to a party tonight.”
“Sure.”
Shy had to physically stop himself from jumping up and down. Despite the excitement racing through his body, he managed to keep his voice calm. “Okay, great. I’ll pick you up at eight, is that all right?”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you tonight then.”
“Ta.”
Shy laid the phone in its cradle and collapsed back into the chair. With Sandy at his side, he could face this party as well as his past. It almost made him want to reconcile things with Andrea. Well, almost.
