Ok, I this was supposed to be a oneshot, but if you think its good enough to continue, feel free to tell me.
Jake English lay in a pile of discarded paraphernalia and dead weeds. Such lollygagging was not something for a gentleman, such as himself, to partake in. But our young heroic beauty could not help it. For, he was too weak to move. He had been lying there since about a day ago when he finally collapsed from exhaustion. Sure, he had been sick for about a fortnight, but he did not intend for the illness to gain this level of severity. Now, his radio, the only connection to the outer world, lay just inches from his grasp.
Of course, the fairies tried to help, nudging pumpkins and seeds his way. This, however, did not affect his physical being whatsoever. He still did not have the strength to crawl over to his cellular device and punch in the seven digits to connect him to a lifesaving heroic creature commonly known as Dirk. This did not dampen his hope that Lifesaving-Heroic-Dirk would still come save the day at the last moment. Even if it did seem that THIS was the last moment. He at least tried to stay cheery, not bothering to swat off the fairies as they swirled around, buzzing fearfully.
Minutes upon hours passed, he still lay alone, his mind dulling, his eyes drooping. Next thing he knew he had slipped into a peaceful sleep upon the forest floor, the lullaby of the lovebird's gay song weaving a pastel tapestry upon the melancholy day. Many more hours passed, and he toiled in the endless rooms of mystery and amazement that made up the castle of the mind. The dense forest foliage blocked all remnants of the overbearing sun away from his tender flesh, as if Mother Nature was his own mum, tucking her child into bed. Still, he slept his heavenly sleep.
And then, footsteps, came clanking softly onto the living soil underneath the dark combat boots. A hero stood over the ailing boy, the setting sun casting glimmers of gold through his platinum hair. He bent to wake up the boy, stroking one leather-clad hand over the Englishman's fevered forehead. Jake opened his emerald eyes, looking up at the face of the most beautiful human being he had ever laid his eyes upon. But, perhaps that is the assumption of any damsel in distress upon seeing their Prince Charming. It was Dirk, the fraction of light glinting upon his face, and glasses that were no less than angelic. Jake was almost overcome by the beauty.
"Don't say a word."
Dirk ordered, picking Jake up in his strong, muscular arms. He slung the sick boy over his shoulder, kidnapped-princess style. Jake slipped in and out of consciousness throughout their journey. He blinked once, endless forest. He blinked twice, a sunset beach horizon. He blinked yet a third time, darkness. He clutched and unclutched the back of Dirk's shirt, trying to feel comfortable and reassured. He finally was and the constant bumping of Dirk's uneven footsteps spoke to him saying: I'm here, I'll be here as long as you need me, English. The message jumbled up and fell into darkness with the rest of Jake.
****Walking down the city sidewalks…..Alone. In a crowd.****
When Jake woke up later, a slow, gentle breeze was blowing off the water, rocking the hammock he was in. He pondered how another soul, the one lying next to him, was willing to protect and defend him. He now gazed upon his knight in shining burgundy armor. His hero slept, as Jake had for oh so long. Jake did not wake him; instead, he looked out over the ocean, realizing he was on some sort of make-shift dock.
It was scrapped out of plywood, the hammock being the only thing not homemade. Even though the shanty had obviously been put together quickly, it was sturdy and overlooked the water, with open sides so a breeze could pass through. He could smell the twang of salt and the feeling of Dirk's strength. So comforting, if he had a home, it would be there. And for now, it was, resting in Dirk's arms, upon an island all to their selves. The birds had fell silent, a storm was brewing out in the bay, it seemed as if all the world held its breath, for them.
Jake came to the realization he was going to have to wake up his sleeping angel, before the storm came. Because he was unsure how to make the building watertight against the torrential downfall that was sure to come. He didn't have the heart to wake up the hero, he must be so tired from the ordeal he had been through. But then Jake remembered, heroes always keep going and never stop, this he knew, from all the fairytales he buried his nose in as a young child. He settled himself into Dirk's arms, feeling the rocking of the hammock and listening to the creaking of the plywood in the breeze, which was picking up. He decided he must wake Dirk, then pressed a kiss to his lips.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty, I trust you are feeling well-rested with those eight days of slumber behind you." Dirk said.
This caused Jake to frown. Eight days. Eight days of his life spent playing Dungeons and Dragons with his demons of mind. Eight days spent lost in an unfamiliar territory commonly known as his mind. Eight days of slipping in and out of consciousness, taking mental pictures of Dirk, only to have them blotted out by fever.
Dirk cast his vibrant eyes towards the dark horizon, sighed tiredly, pressing his lips to Jake's forehead, which was still slightly warmer than normal. Then, he got up, untangling himself from the mess of limbs and blankets he had become incorporated in. Jake unwillingly let his mate go, realizing the boy was attempting something productive. Productive as Dirk was being, he shut two garage doors, one on each side of the building, thus making it watertight. He walked across the length of the cabin, taking an orange off a cardboard table, just as the strong winds outside started to howl.
"You know, the first time it rained here, was the night I found you. It howled and shook us, but I held you in my arms, too afraid to let go." Dirk said, quite matter-of-factly.
He took a seat next to Jake in a chair, running his hand through the younger male's ebony hair, which by now was a tangled greasy mess. Jake thought he might remember bits and pieces of that night. Like opening his eyes to see Dirk's normally emotionless face so full of fear and worry, and the smell of the sweat and mud the two men were laying caked in.
"I apologize, Strider."
Jake spoke, for the first time in about a month, his voice was so hoarse and quiet it could have easily been mistaken for the winds outside, but Dirk didn't, nodding in understanding. Jake couldn't tell the real reason for the nod, as everything around him seemed a bit foggy without his glasses, and he was still quite confused from awakening from a eight day coma. He coughed, because his chest hurt, everything hurt. He sighed and looked up at Dirk, giving him an unmistakable look of sincere apology.
Dirk got up and crossed over the other side of the room, grabbing a bottle of water and approaching Jake again. He pressed the plastic container to Jake's lips, urging him to sip it slowly, he did, drinking about half of the thing before Dirk pulled it away, setting it on the ground. He then proceeded to regain his seat next to Jake's sickbed (er….. hammock) finally starting on his apple. The full force of the storm's rage threw its self at the little shanty, but Dirk remained calm, continuing to eat his apple. Jake became a bit agitated, squirming worriedly, Dirk just ruffled his hair.
"Come on, we both need sleep, especially you."
Dirk ordered, dropping the apple core and laying back down next to Jake, fixing the blankets around the two of them, reaching his arm over to touch Jake's hair, turning over so the two where face-to-face. The storm was still going full force at the shanty, but yet Jake was not bothered anymore, he drowned out the fearsome noise, concentrating on the sound of Dirk's breathing and the feeling of having another human so close to him, especially one so dear. He drifted into the same place he had just spent eight days in, a lonely place.
**** Oh joys, arise the sun has come again, to hold you. Sailing out the doldrums of the week. ****
Days passed, and with each one of them, Jake regained a bit of his strength. The two spent months upon months pretending they were the last people on earth, alone and together, the way it should always have been. At night, the two lay alone, suffering the storms and telling sacred stories. In the morning they would frolic happily until they lay on the beach in the soft sand, their muscular chest respirations pumping up and down rapidly.
As each day passed a great sadness arose in Jake. For everyday lost was a day closer to Dirk's departure. Jake was well and he knew Dirk could not stay forever. Therefore, he worried, so much it affected him, and one day it was too much, he was almost physically sick with it. He found himself sitting alone, again under one of the heavenly sheltering trees, looking oh so tired and weak, yet again. He leaned in, listening to the soft rustling of the forest, and wondering if the trees were wondering. Because, he sure was.
"Hey Jake, what's wrong?"
His mate asked, appearing from behind a giant oak, his blond hair a mess from all the rumpus, his shirt stained from the days of play. The island had changed everything about him, and Jake managed a faint smile, looking up at the hero. Dirk bent down and picked Jake up in his arms as if he was just a child's toy. He looked up at his good friend, the golden glimmer of sunset again setting behind the handsome man. Thus, he pressed a soft kiss upward onto his mate's lips. Dirk cradled him into his chest, looking down at him.
"Nothing, Strider. I assure you I'm just a bit tired."
Jake replied softly, he didn't enjoy being man-handled, but he had lost a bit too much weight during his illness, so Dirk took it upon himself to carry Jake around, just to annoy him. Dirk smiled and ruffled Jake's hair, he knew Jake became fatigued easily now, so he didn't stop to question the lie. Jake stretched out in Dirk's arms, knowing this might be one of the last times he got to do this. Dirk made his way through the forest again, almost similar to the first day, except for the melancholy mood hanging in the still air.
He finally arrived at said destination, curling up next to Jake; same as before, except the quiet was so unbearably loud. Nothing moved, not even Dirk who had fallen asleep with Jake so still in his arms. Insomnia had stricken the young gentlemanly male, all he could do was think about the never-ending solemnness that came with the frightful realization he was going to be alone again. Hours flew; Jake continued to lay still, listening to the other soul's breath. Minutes before sunrise, he drifted into a dreamless and restless slumber.
**** There is a hole in my heart where the weeds take root, and there I will set you free. ****
The day had come and this Jake knew.
The air was much too humid and a thick fog wafted from the story gray ocean. Dirk stood in front of him, his hair was styled into sharp spikes and his shirt was freshly laundered and mended. He was Dirk, normal Dirk, who loved rapping and robots, not at all Jake's Dirk. The Dirk who hand an intense lust for adventure, the Dirk who heroically carried the man he loved through about three miles of jungle.
"I feel faint…"
Jake mumbled, he truly did feel ill, his mind entertaining the thought he may never see his precious Dirk again. Dirk's face turned up in the ghost of a smile and he raised one hand to Jake's pallid face, he ran his finger down to Jake's jaw and dropped his hands back to his own side again. He sighed, adjusting his backpack and looking away from Jake and onto the bay, the charter boat from Australia had come, this would be his way home. A lifeboat was being rowed towards the shore to retrieve Dirk. The blonde male looked back over at his best mate, not hesitating a moment before scooping him up once more.
"Strider! What the dickens do you think you're doing?"
Jake cried in alarm, at that very moment, he heard the pleasant splash of a small wave hit Dirk's knees as he waded into the water. The Englishman felt his rump thump against the cold wood of the small vessel as Dirk simply dropped him into it. Next thing he knew, he was seated next to his lover in the small space. Dirk clutched his boyfriend's shirt and pulled him close.
"I'm taking you home, Jake English."
I mean, there is like 300 different ways I could continue this.
Hah, it took me like two months to write.