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moit_ficsTitle: A New Beginning (4/?)
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: hard R
Genre: Romance, angst
Warnings: mentions of past violence
Word Count: 2,011
Author's Note: This chapter was the hardest to write so far, mostly due to life circumstances. As a preview for the next chapter, I will say that the boys are going to be living together temporarily, and much sexing will ensue.
Previous Chapters here
After his run-in with Andrea, Shy felt much more relaxed. It was almost as though a weight had been physically lifted from his shoulders. Even the way he carried himself seemed more secure and confident.
Life continued. Shy went to work, he fished, and most importantly, he saw a lot of Sandy.
"When are you going to invite him back over for dinner? I haven't seen him since that first night. And you've been seeing each other for . . . what, two weeks now?"
"Three, mum," Shy said, kissing her on the cheek as he reached around her for a piece of toast. Claire slapped futilely at his hand.
"Three weeks, then. All the more reason for him to come for dinner. And what about his uncle? Porter, did you say his name was? I sure would like to meet him at some point, Shy."
"Mum," Shy groaned. He added the plate of bacon to the table. "This isn't even serious. Sandy and I are . . . just seeing each other. Besides, he's going back to the States at the end of the summer, anyway."
"I know you, Shy. You like that boy a lot more than you let on."
"It doesn't matter. He's leaving. So don't get more wrapped up in him than you need to be."
Claire fixed her plate in silence, staring solemnly at her only child. Shy was sounding curiously like the parent, but Claire knew it was only to hide how he was really feeling.
"Shy, have you talked to Sandy about this?"
Guilty-faced, Shy swallowed the food in his mouth and took a long swig of orange juice. "No."
"I think maybe you should."
"Mum," Shy said with an exasperated sigh. "Just leave it, yeah? I'm fine with the way things are." He stood up and dumped his plate in the sink. "I'm late for work."
He left before Claire could say another word.
*
Sandy noticed Shy's bad mood almost as soon as he stepped onto the dock. "You don't look like your normal self this morning, Sunshine. Something wrong?"
"I'm fine. Can we just get to work? We have a lot to do today."
Sandy reeled back from Shy's brusque greeting. Normally, he was in jovial spirits in the morning. Unsure what else to do, Sandy kept his mouth shut and got to work.
Shy was quiet until their mid-day break. It reminded Sandy of their first few days working together, and the feeling made him incredibly uneasy. As such, he confronted Shy about it during their break.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Huh?" Shy looked up, inadvertently spilling water down the front of his t-shirt. "Why would I be mad at you?"
"Well, you haven't talked to me all morning, and when I got here, you all-but ignored me. So, if I've done something, I'd appreciate if you'd tell me what it is so I can try to fix it."
"I'm not mad at you, Sandy." Shy held out his hand, and tugged Sandy to sit down next to him. "My mum just brought something up this morning that upset me."
"Okay," Sandy said slowly. "Are you going to fill me in?"
After a pregnant pause, Shy nodded. "These past few weeks have been great, but . . ."
As Shy trailed off, Sandy's eyebrows rose. "Are you breaking up with me?"
"No!" Shy said, surprised. "No, no, not at all. But . . ." he looked down, unable to meet Sandy's eyes. "I'm just really apprehensive about you leaving at the end of the summer."
Sandy nodded. "I've been thinking about that, too."
They sat in silence, legs dangling over the bright blue ocean. The sun was high in the sky, making the sea almost too bright to look at without shades. Gulls squawked noisily overhead, fighting one another for pilfered morsels of food. Were it not for heavy hearts, it would have been a beautiful afternoon.
"We should probably get back to work," Shy said standing up.
Sandy followed, but they both knew the conversation wasn't over.
Normally, after work, Sandy and Shy would part ways with a kiss and a promise to meet up later. This time, however, they started off together by unspoken agreement. They walked along the shoreline to a less frequented square of beach, shaded by a tree whose branches hung out over the sand.
Sandy sat down, Shy next to him. They both started to speak at the same time.
"So-"
"Well-"
Sandy giggled adorably. The sound sent shivers down Shy's spine. "You go first."
Shy took a deep breath. "I'm just really nervous about you leaving at the end of the summer. Things are great now, but . . . I'm just worried that I'll get too attached and then when you'll leave, I'll just be back to square one again. I don't know if I can handle that sort of thing again."
Sandy was silent for a long time. His expression was pensive--not a common look for the boy. The severity of his thoughts frightened Shy more than he would admit. "I could always stay here at the end of the summer," he said finally.
He was so surprised at the statement, Shy almost didn't realize what Sandy had said at first. "You mean stay here? On the Island? Instead of going home with your uncle?"
"Yes," Shy replied, smiling at Shy's surprise.
"You can't stay here," Shy replied softly.
"Why not?" Sandy's tone sank from near-excitement to disappointment. "Don't you--don't you want me to?"
"Sandy, I want you with me more than anything. But there's nothing here for you. What are you going to do? Work with me as a dock boy for the rest of your life? That's no kind of career. You should be in school."
"Well, it's no life for you either. You could have plenty of opportunities if you just looked for them."
"You don't belong here. But for me, this is all I've ever known. I was never supposed to be anything more than a fisherman. That's all my father ever was, and it's all I've ever wanted to be."
"Well, if it's enough for you, then why can't it be enough for me? My uncle's a fisherman, too. Why do you think we came down here in the first place?" Sandy's tone was rising with his anger.
"But you don't belong here, Sandy. Why do you think Andrea's family didn't want me around her? Because they thought she was too good for me. I'm just another Island boy with nothing going for me. I don't want you to give your opportunities up for me."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, would you listen to yourself?" Sandy shouted, his temper finally breaking. "'Poor me. My life sucks so bad!' I thought you were done with that stupid shit! And bringing Andrea back into the conversation? I mean, if you want her, then please don't waste my time. I'll bow out quietly."
"That's not what I meant," Shy whispered.
"Then say what you mean, Shy!"
Without warning, Shy lunged across the small space between them, smearing his mouth across Sandy's in a heated kiss. "I think I'm falling in love with you and it scares the hell out of me," he panted when they parted.
"It's about fucking time you come clean," Sandy panted back, leaning in for another kiss.
They kissed until they couldn't breathe, until their lungs were fit to burst with the need for oxygen. Only then did they part, panting and grasping at one another like lifelines. Shy rested his forehead on Sandy's shoulder. He realized there were tears on his cheeks.
"I think I'm falling in love with you, too," Sandy whispered, wiping at Shy's tears with his thumbs.
*
By unspoken agreement, Sandy and Shy agreed to table the discussion about Sandy leaving at the end of the summer. Though the possibility still loomed over them like a dark cloud, worrying now would serve them no purpose.
So, against his better judgment, Shy had agreed to invite Sandy and his uncle Porter over for dinner.
"Mum, I told you to put the wine on the table'" Shy said, clearly irritated as he moved the bottle.
Claire raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt Sandy and his uncle are going to care where I've set the wine."
"I just want everything to be perfect," Shy replied, wiping his palms nervously on his jeans.
"And it will be. Just settle down." She pushed down down into a chair. "Getting worked up isn't going to make you feel any better when they-" the sound of the doorbell interrupted her pep-talking. "Get here."
Shy shot up with a bolt.
He flung open the door and nearly mauled Sandy with a hug. He stopped himself from smothering Sandy with kisses at the sight of Porter standing behind him. Instead, he settled for a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Please, come in," he said, composing himself as best he could. He led Sandy and Porter into the dining room, where his mom was putting the last of the meal on the table.
"Sandy, it's so good to see you again. And you must be Porter."
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Porter said.
They sat down together, Sandy and Shy on one side of the table, Porter and Claire on the other.
"Well, Porter, Shy tells me you're a fisherman," Claire said. "My late husband was a fisherman, too. That's where Shy gets it."
"That's why we're here. And the Island sure hasn't disappointed us." Porter took a bite of pasta. "This is delicious. We don't get home cooked meals very often. Hell, when Sandy first came to live with me, I practically lived on spaghetti-os."
"Did," Sandy corrected.
"Okay, did," Porter amended with a smile.
Claire looked positively scandalized. "What are you eating while you're here? Surely you're not living off tinned food."
Porter and Sandy shared a glance. They both looked slightly uncomfortable. "It's not all from cans," Sandy said.
"Well, then, I'll expect you two to come over for dinner every Friday night, then. You'll have a real home cooked meal. How's that sound?"
"That's great," Sandy and Porter said.
"Besides, it will give Sandy and Shy an opportunity to spend more time together. I swear you two barely get a minute apart."
"Mum," Shy hissed.
"Oh, hush. You haven't said much since we sat down, anyway. Are you feeling okay?"
Shy shrugged one-shouldered. "I'm fine."
"Did you take your pills today?"
Sandy and Porter ate in silence while Shy avoided his mother's question.
"Did you?"
"No," Shy answered finally.
Claire sighed. She stood up from the table and set a bottle of pills in front of Shy.
"Do we have to do this now?" Shy asked.
"Yes. Right now. Porter and Sandy don't mind if you take your meds with dinner."
Sandy reached out and rubbed a comforting hand over Shy's knee. "Take your drugs."
Still scowling like an insolent child, Shy shook two pills out and swallowed them dry. He gave his mom a pointed look.
Satisfied, Claire sat down and they confined their dinner like nothing had happened.
After dinner, Shy and Sandy left Claire and Porter having coffee to go for a walk down by the beach.
"What do you take pills for?" Sandy asked as they stopped at the edge of the ocean.
"Anxiety," Shy replied. "I've been on them since my dad died. I don't need them as often any more, but . . ."
"I could tell you were wound up."
"Was it that obvious?"
"A little. But that's only because I know what you look like when you're completely blissed-out after sex."
"Hush. I don't want my mom to hear you," Shy said, but his voice was full of laughter. He pulled Sandy into him and bestowed a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. Sandy made a noise of contentment, snuggling his head beneath Shy's chin.
They stood like that for a long while, just watching the waves crash against the beach.
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: hard R
Genre: Romance, angst
Warnings: mentions of past violence
Word Count: 2,011
Author's Note: This chapter was the hardest to write so far, mostly due to life circumstances. As a preview for the next chapter, I will say that the boys are going to be living together temporarily, and much sexing will ensue.
Previous Chapters here
After his run-in with Andrea, Shy felt much more relaxed. It was almost as though a weight had been physically lifted from his shoulders. Even the way he carried himself seemed more secure and confident.
Life continued. Shy went to work, he fished, and most importantly, he saw a lot of Sandy.
"When are you going to invite him back over for dinner? I haven't seen him since that first night. And you've been seeing each other for . . . what, two weeks now?"
"Three, mum," Shy said, kissing her on the cheek as he reached around her for a piece of toast. Claire slapped futilely at his hand.
"Three weeks, then. All the more reason for him to come for dinner. And what about his uncle? Porter, did you say his name was? I sure would like to meet him at some point, Shy."
"Mum," Shy groaned. He added the plate of bacon to the table. "This isn't even serious. Sandy and I are . . . just seeing each other. Besides, he's going back to the States at the end of the summer, anyway."
"I know you, Shy. You like that boy a lot more than you let on."
"It doesn't matter. He's leaving. So don't get more wrapped up in him than you need to be."
Claire fixed her plate in silence, staring solemnly at her only child. Shy was sounding curiously like the parent, but Claire knew it was only to hide how he was really feeling.
"Shy, have you talked to Sandy about this?"
Guilty-faced, Shy swallowed the food in his mouth and took a long swig of orange juice. "No."
"I think maybe you should."
"Mum," Shy said with an exasperated sigh. "Just leave it, yeah? I'm fine with the way things are." He stood up and dumped his plate in the sink. "I'm late for work."
He left before Claire could say another word.
*
Sandy noticed Shy's bad mood almost as soon as he stepped onto the dock. "You don't look like your normal self this morning, Sunshine. Something wrong?"
"I'm fine. Can we just get to work? We have a lot to do today."
Sandy reeled back from Shy's brusque greeting. Normally, he was in jovial spirits in the morning. Unsure what else to do, Sandy kept his mouth shut and got to work.
Shy was quiet until their mid-day break. It reminded Sandy of their first few days working together, and the feeling made him incredibly uneasy. As such, he confronted Shy about it during their break.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Huh?" Shy looked up, inadvertently spilling water down the front of his t-shirt. "Why would I be mad at you?"
"Well, you haven't talked to me all morning, and when I got here, you all-but ignored me. So, if I've done something, I'd appreciate if you'd tell me what it is so I can try to fix it."
"I'm not mad at you, Sandy." Shy held out his hand, and tugged Sandy to sit down next to him. "My mum just brought something up this morning that upset me."
"Okay," Sandy said slowly. "Are you going to fill me in?"
After a pregnant pause, Shy nodded. "These past few weeks have been great, but . . ."
As Shy trailed off, Sandy's eyebrows rose. "Are you breaking up with me?"
"No!" Shy said, surprised. "No, no, not at all. But . . ." he looked down, unable to meet Sandy's eyes. "I'm just really apprehensive about you leaving at the end of the summer."
Sandy nodded. "I've been thinking about that, too."
They sat in silence, legs dangling over the bright blue ocean. The sun was high in the sky, making the sea almost too bright to look at without shades. Gulls squawked noisily overhead, fighting one another for pilfered morsels of food. Were it not for heavy hearts, it would have been a beautiful afternoon.
"We should probably get back to work," Shy said standing up.
Sandy followed, but they both knew the conversation wasn't over.
Normally, after work, Sandy and Shy would part ways with a kiss and a promise to meet up later. This time, however, they started off together by unspoken agreement. They walked along the shoreline to a less frequented square of beach, shaded by a tree whose branches hung out over the sand.
Sandy sat down, Shy next to him. They both started to speak at the same time.
"So-"
"Well-"
Sandy giggled adorably. The sound sent shivers down Shy's spine. "You go first."
Shy took a deep breath. "I'm just really nervous about you leaving at the end of the summer. Things are great now, but . . . I'm just worried that I'll get too attached and then when you'll leave, I'll just be back to square one again. I don't know if I can handle that sort of thing again."
Sandy was silent for a long time. His expression was pensive--not a common look for the boy. The severity of his thoughts frightened Shy more than he would admit. "I could always stay here at the end of the summer," he said finally.
He was so surprised at the statement, Shy almost didn't realize what Sandy had said at first. "You mean stay here? On the Island? Instead of going home with your uncle?"
"Yes," Shy replied, smiling at Shy's surprise.
"You can't stay here," Shy replied softly.
"Why not?" Sandy's tone sank from near-excitement to disappointment. "Don't you--don't you want me to?"
"Sandy, I want you with me more than anything. But there's nothing here for you. What are you going to do? Work with me as a dock boy for the rest of your life? That's no kind of career. You should be in school."
"Well, it's no life for you either. You could have plenty of opportunities if you just looked for them."
"You don't belong here. But for me, this is all I've ever known. I was never supposed to be anything more than a fisherman. That's all my father ever was, and it's all I've ever wanted to be."
"Well, if it's enough for you, then why can't it be enough for me? My uncle's a fisherman, too. Why do you think we came down here in the first place?" Sandy's tone was rising with his anger.
"But you don't belong here, Sandy. Why do you think Andrea's family didn't want me around her? Because they thought she was too good for me. I'm just another Island boy with nothing going for me. I don't want you to give your opportunities up for me."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, would you listen to yourself?" Sandy shouted, his temper finally breaking. "'Poor me. My life sucks so bad!' I thought you were done with that stupid shit! And bringing Andrea back into the conversation? I mean, if you want her, then please don't waste my time. I'll bow out quietly."
"That's not what I meant," Shy whispered.
"Then say what you mean, Shy!"
Without warning, Shy lunged across the small space between them, smearing his mouth across Sandy's in a heated kiss. "I think I'm falling in love with you and it scares the hell out of me," he panted when they parted.
"It's about fucking time you come clean," Sandy panted back, leaning in for another kiss.
They kissed until they couldn't breathe, until their lungs were fit to burst with the need for oxygen. Only then did they part, panting and grasping at one another like lifelines. Shy rested his forehead on Sandy's shoulder. He realized there were tears on his cheeks.
"I think I'm falling in love with you, too," Sandy whispered, wiping at Shy's tears with his thumbs.
*
By unspoken agreement, Sandy and Shy agreed to table the discussion about Sandy leaving at the end of the summer. Though the possibility still loomed over them like a dark cloud, worrying now would serve them no purpose.
So, against his better judgment, Shy had agreed to invite Sandy and his uncle Porter over for dinner.
"Mum, I told you to put the wine on the table'" Shy said, clearly irritated as he moved the bottle.
Claire raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt Sandy and his uncle are going to care where I've set the wine."
"I just want everything to be perfect," Shy replied, wiping his palms nervously on his jeans.
"And it will be. Just settle down." She pushed down down into a chair. "Getting worked up isn't going to make you feel any better when they-" the sound of the doorbell interrupted her pep-talking. "Get here."
Shy shot up with a bolt.
He flung open the door and nearly mauled Sandy with a hug. He stopped himself from smothering Sandy with kisses at the sight of Porter standing behind him. Instead, he settled for a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Please, come in," he said, composing himself as best he could. He led Sandy and Porter into the dining room, where his mom was putting the last of the meal on the table.
"Sandy, it's so good to see you again. And you must be Porter."
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Porter said.
They sat down together, Sandy and Shy on one side of the table, Porter and Claire on the other.
"Well, Porter, Shy tells me you're a fisherman," Claire said. "My late husband was a fisherman, too. That's where Shy gets it."
"That's why we're here. And the Island sure hasn't disappointed us." Porter took a bite of pasta. "This is delicious. We don't get home cooked meals very often. Hell, when Sandy first came to live with me, I practically lived on spaghetti-os."
"Did," Sandy corrected.
"Okay, did," Porter amended with a smile.
Claire looked positively scandalized. "What are you eating while you're here? Surely you're not living off tinned food."
Porter and Sandy shared a glance. They both looked slightly uncomfortable. "It's not all from cans," Sandy said.
"Well, then, I'll expect you two to come over for dinner every Friday night, then. You'll have a real home cooked meal. How's that sound?"
"That's great," Sandy and Porter said.
"Besides, it will give Sandy and Shy an opportunity to spend more time together. I swear you two barely get a minute apart."
"Mum," Shy hissed.
"Oh, hush. You haven't said much since we sat down, anyway. Are you feeling okay?"
Shy shrugged one-shouldered. "I'm fine."
"Did you take your pills today?"
Sandy and Porter ate in silence while Shy avoided his mother's question.
"Did you?"
"No," Shy answered finally.
Claire sighed. She stood up from the table and set a bottle of pills in front of Shy.
"Do we have to do this now?" Shy asked.
"Yes. Right now. Porter and Sandy don't mind if you take your meds with dinner."
Sandy reached out and rubbed a comforting hand over Shy's knee. "Take your drugs."
Still scowling like an insolent child, Shy shook two pills out and swallowed them dry. He gave his mom a pointed look.
Satisfied, Claire sat down and they confined their dinner like nothing had happened.
After dinner, Shy and Sandy left Claire and Porter having coffee to go for a walk down by the beach.
"What do you take pills for?" Sandy asked as they stopped at the edge of the ocean.
"Anxiety," Shy replied. "I've been on them since my dad died. I don't need them as often any more, but . . ."
"I could tell you were wound up."
"Was it that obvious?"
"A little. But that's only because I know what you look like when you're completely blissed-out after sex."
"Hush. I don't want my mom to hear you," Shy said, but his voice was full of laughter. He pulled Sandy into him and bestowed a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. Sandy made a noise of contentment, snuggling his head beneath Shy's chin.
They stood like that for a long while, just watching the waves crash against the beach.
