"Tulio?"

The long haired man rolled over, sighing heavily.

"What, Miguel? I'm tired."

Miguel pouted at Tulio's annoyance, poking the ship's floor with a finger.

"There's a rock in my back and it hurts."

Tulio slapped his head. "Then take it out, numbskull!" He grumbled.

"I can't! I'm comfy here!" Miguel whined.

Tulio sat up, knocking the half eaten apple on his chest to the ground.

"Whaddya want me to do about it, Miguel?" He yelled. "Just lemme sleep!"

Miguel crawled back, shocked. "Sorry." He whispered, the hurt clearly showing in his eyes.

"Aw, Miguel... not now, please. Not the eyes!" Tulio groaned. "Urgh, c'mere."

Miguel happily snuggled up to the taller man, resting his head on his chest.

"Why this now, hmm?" Tulio asked. He tried not to be too motherly to Miguel since he was his friend, but he couldn't help it. The man was like a puppy sometimes, helpless and adora- er, small.

However, he couldn't resist a quick stroke of his blond mop as he pulled him in tighter.

"The flogging, I guess." Came Miguel reply. When his green eyes met Tulio's brown one's, he saw a single tear roll down his face. Miguel was never good with pain. Since Tulio knew nothing about his childhood and Miguel never talked about it, Tulio has always assumed he was beat or abused in some way. Every time Tulio would raise his hand in a argument; something trivial about dividing gold or such, Miguel would flinch and Tulio would feel so bad afterwards he'd go buy Miguel a dish of paella, his favorite food. Of course, the prideful Miguel would ask what it was for, fully rejecting his fear. Tulio would just shrug and say: "Someday, you can return the favor." and grin as Miguel leaped, laughing, for the plate of food in the taller man's hands.

"This never leaves the dungeon, Miguel, but I'm scared too. With all the things we've had happen to us, we've never been flogged. I just don't want to experience that in this lifetime or any other."

Tulio's eye's closed. He held onto Miguel as if the waves they could hear crashing around the boat has somehow breaken through. He clung to Miguel, his lifeline, his partner, his... somehow sometimes possibly something more than....

Oh, frigg. Not again. Tulio made a desperate attempt at a conversation to get Miguel to look at something other than his burning face, and pay attention to something other than impending pain:

"So.... why is your shirt.... poofy?"

Miguel smiled. "That's all you could think of?" He raised his blond eyebrows. God, how Tulio wanted to just reach out and touch one, just for a second.... just for a...

Tulio slapped his own hand away and stammered out: "Y-yeah. It's b-been bugging me since we met. Your dumb poofy shirt."

Miguel giggled and pulled on a sleeve, getting it to stretch out. "I dunno either. Maybe it's because I'm full of hot air?"

Tulio pulled away from Miguel, laughing hard at the oh so Miguel-ish pun. "That you are, my friend... that you are."

Miguel gasped at the sudden loss of warmth. "Tulio, you silly man! I'm freezing with all this seawater, you... you dork!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Tulio pulled him back in, still laughing. "Oh Miguel... what will I do with you?" By pure instinct alone, Tulio found his lips reaching down, down, down.... and kissing Miguel on top of the head.

Both men's delicate face's suddenly burst into flames and they quickly separated, pushing apart from each other.

"Well! Well, well, goodnight then!" Tulio babbled, fiddling with his ponytail.

"Yes, yes, what a strange and wonderful idea, Tulio! See you in the morning, old friend!" Miguel cringed at his awkward use of the term friend, for they both knew they wanted something much more than that.

Miguel. Miguel. Miguel. The memory of a few strand of Miguel's silky, beautiful blond hair touching his sea chapped lips kept Tulio up all night, squirming on the uncomfortable floor. Meanwhile, on the other side of the dungeon, Miguel was not doing much better. The only thought running through the man's head was, of course, Tulio. Tulio Tulio Tulio, level headed, stubborn, wonderful Tulio, with his one gorgeous piece of night sky hair hanging down on his forehead, oh, how Miguel wanted to brush it away or better yet, toy with it, pull on it until the man was begging for something more than just teasing, much like Tulio had earlier inflicted on him, with his dumb brotherly kiss. He could still feel Tulio's warm breath on the top of his head, the way he moved his hair...

Stupid Tulio.

Stupid Miguel.

Stupid friends.