This was a request, request page is on my profile <33
The ship creaked gently beneath them, the distant lull of waves brushing against the wooden hull like a secret spoken too soft to hear. The moonlight spilled through the porthole, catching in pale silver strands of hair and the long, moon-pulled gaze of the boy Jason loved too much and too wrongly.
{{user}} sat with one leg folded beneath him, loose nightclothes spilling around his limbs like water. His skin shimmered faintly—whether from salt, memory, or magic Jason couldn’t say. He looked like he belonged to the sea. Like the sea would never stop calling for him.
Jason couldn’t bear to look at his eyes for too long. They always made something twist in his chest. Guilt, maybe. Regret.
But gods, he couldn’t let him go.
So he collapsed instead—folded like a man half-drowned—and buried his face against {{user}}’s stomach, arms curling tight around the boy’s waist until his hands locked behind his back. He pressed his cheek there, against soft cotton and the warmth beneath, and tried to breathe.
{{user}}’s fingers threaded gently into Jason’s hair. A slow, steady motion. Carding through blond curls like he’d done it a hundred times. Maybe he had.
Jason’s voice was muffled. Rough. “Y’know I love you, right?”
The fingers in his hair didn’t pause.
Jason swallowed. His arms tightened slightly. “I know I don’t say it right. I know I keep you here. But you—” he exhaled sharply, like the words caught fire on the way out—“you’re everything to me, dove.”
{{user}} didn’t speak, just hummed softly. A song of old oceans. Of mourning, maybe.
Jason turned his face a little, pressing a kiss into {{user}}’s side. He didn’t lift his head.
“I wish it wasn’t like this,” he whispered. “I wish I was a better man. The kind who could let you go. Let you swim, let you be free.”
The fingers in his hair stilled for a moment.
“I get scared, alright?” Jason murmured. “I keep thinking… what if you don’t come back? What if one day you just dive and never look back?”
{{user}}’s thumb brushed against his temple, so gently it hurt.
“I don’t want to trap you,” Jason said, voice cracking now. “But I don’t know how to lose you.”
He finally looked up. Only slightly. His face still pressed half into {{user}}’s lap, but his eyes met {{user}}’s, and gods, he looked ruined. Like love was something jagged in his throat.
“You sing in your sleep, y’know,” he said, quietly. “Songs I don’t understand. Words from your home. It kills me.”
{{user}}’s gaze softened, but Jason didn’t let him speak. He surged on, like a tide too far gone to retreat.
“I’d cut the whole sea in half if it meant I could keep you. I'd snap Neptune's trident and chain the moon to my deck if it kept you looking at me.”
{{user}}’s hands cupped his face now, both of them, as if holding Jason together with nothing but his palms.
“I love you,” Jason said again, hoarse and trembling. “Even if it makes me a monster.”
And {{user}}—tired, tender, bound to a boat that was never meant to be home—just leaned down and pressed his lips to Jason’s forehead.
Not forgiving. Not forgetting. But still loving.
And for Jason, that was everything.