The small cabin aboard the Grishend looked like a disaster area. Clothes littered the room that the ship's co-first officers shared, strewn about haphazardly from their frenzy to remove them the night before. Both pirates were curled up on the bed, hiding from the sunlight that was beginning to filter in through the cracks of the shuttered porthole window.
The taller man gently stroked his lover's rusty-red hair out of his sleeping face, leaning down to kiss the scar on his cheek. "Rise and shine, Hervey. Time to get up."
"Mrrrrnng..." Hervey groaned, murmuring something incoherent and pulling Sigurd's arm around him in place of the blanket that had gone the same way as their clothing.
The brunette pirate sighed, used to this sort of greeting, and pried his arm free of Hervey's surprisingly strong grip. "Come on, Hervey. Up." He shook him gently, then leaned down and trailed light, teasing kisses along the line of his neck. "Up." It never failed to get his attention, that trick. And once Hervey's attention was his, Sigurd knew how to keep it and use it to his advantage. "Get up and get dressed, then we can go get something to eat."
"...Eat?" Hervey sat up immediately, already untamable hair only made worse by their nightly activities. Some of it stuck straight up. Sigurd grinned and combed it down with his fingers, then got up out of bed to gather up their clothing. "Eating is good." Hervey was definitely not a morning person, yawning and stretching before sitting up and blinking blearily at Sigurd.
Sigurd went about the room picking up their discarded articles and throwing them onto the bed - and Hervey. The redhead scowled after his own pants smacked him in the face. His boyfriend just chuckled, tossing him his shirt, vest, and the rest of his clothes before working on putting his own things on. Hervey pawed through the pile until he found what he was looking for.
"Why do you wear that thing, anyway?" Sigurd watched Hervey knot the red and orange plaid kerchief around his neck as always; the first thing he put on in the morning, and the last thing he took off at night - if he took it off at all. In fact, the calmer pirate couldn't remember a time when Hervey hadn't had that stupid kerchief.
His short-tempered companion smiled secretively, picking up his tanktop. "Because," he replied. There was no further explanation coming, even though Sigurd stood patiently and waited.
"Well?"
"I told you!" Hervey chuckled, slipping into his vest. "Because."
"Because why?" Sigurd was a patient man, but even he could only take so much of Hervey's childish behavior sometimes.
"Because," Hervey said again, standing up and wrapping his arms around Sigurd's neck and looking up at him. There were times when he really noticed the height difference between them. "...It's a secret. Come closer."
Rolling his eyes, Sigurd leaned down closer to his favorite redhead. "Are you going to tell me, or are you going to lick me and run off?"
"I'll tell you," Hervey promised in a husky whisper, gently nipping Sigurd's earlobe. "It's because..." he kissed lower on the other man's neck, gently sucking against his collarbone until he'd left a visible, though light, mark on his skin. "...I want to be a cowboy."
"...A what?" Sigurd had been very much enjoying Hervey's actions, but his words killed it.
"A cowboy. You know...ride bulls, rope cattle, that sort of thing."
"..." It took Sigurd a moment to get his thoughts together again, so completely baffled by Hervey's statement. "You want...to be a cowboy."
Bright yellow-green eyes stared deeply into dark chocolate brown, soulful and serious until the redhead burst out laughing. "Gotcha!" He pulled Sigurd down into a searing hot kiss, then bounded out of the small room. "See you at breakfast!"
Dumbfounded, Sigurd shook his head. Hervey was going to be the death of him. He grinned, fastening the clasps on his jacket before following Hervey out. At least he'd never be bored for the rest of his life.