Title: Islanders (Head in the Sand)
Summary: Mello and Matt, co-workers who hardly see eye to eye, find themselves stranded on a deserted island. Survival skills and hijinks abound.
Disclaimer: I don't own DN.
Author's Note: Short update. I'll try to make the next chapter longer.
...
Mello had Matt in the shade with a meek but necessary supply of water. Mello's blonde hair was tied back with a sturdy but pliable stalk of weed he'd found among the tall grass.
Hours seemed to pass; the sun was going down and an unpleasant coolness was beginning to stretch over the duo, causing either one to shiver. Not knowing what else to do, the blonde reluctantly laid next to the redhead and pulled him into his arms, immediately glad for his decision when he felt the shared body heat.
"What happens on the island, stays on the island," Mello whispered, resting his head and closing his eyes, only to flinch and swat at a hungry insect that had bitten his arm. Then he swatted an insect at his neck. And... the bugs just kept coming, and soon Mello had abandoned Matt's heat in favor of thrashing and scratching. "Fuck," he cursed, irritated and angry and more than a little tired and hungry.
Minutes later...
"Fucking bugs, can't eat me. Fuck, I'll eat you!" And Mello put his own hand in his mouth before gnawing, trying to bite the insect that had bitten him. He stopped only when the dim light of the hovering moon cast a shine over a set of green eyes that glimmered with an unreadable expression.
" Mello..." Matt addressed.
Mello promptly cut him off. "Shut up! Fuckin' bugs are eating me alive. Why aren't they eating you?!"
Matt shrugged. "Hey, be nice. I was just going to say that your hair looks nice like that. I like it."
Mello took a minute to stare at the redhead, attempting to gauge his sincerity. After a moment, he accepted the compliment and sat next to Matt. "I still don't get why the bugs aren't eating you," he grumbled. "Water?" he offered the makeshift pot.
Sitting up, Matt looked towards the odd little woven thing that adequately held the water Mello was referring to. "Nice," he said breathily, reaching for the pot and bringing it to his lips for a small sip. "We need fire," Matt added afterwards, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. "Fire, and proper shelter." He looked around, noting their location as well as the position of the moon overhead. "We'll do it tomorrow. It's too late to do anything productive tonight."
Mello looked down and gritted his teeth. He knew they needed fire, but his two whole days of being a boyscout could only teach him so much. Taking a deep breath, he expelled it at leisure and gave a solitary nod. "Anything I can do to help?"
Matt looked at Mello with surprise, then smiled. "Hey, yeah. I could explain how to make a bow-drill so that we can start a fire, and then you can help me look for a good food source. Then, there's the aforementioned shelter we need... We could be here for a while."
Mello avoided Matt's gaze, unsure of what to make of their circumstantial comradery. "Well, nature-boy, is there anything we can do about the cold for now? What about the bugs?"
"Fire would ward off some bugs but attract others. I'd be mostly worried about spiders right now. As for heat, unless you want to share body heat, we'll just have to tough it out for tonight."
A silence fell over them after that, both cold, both hungry, and both tired.
As the moon found itself hazed in clouds and their light source became nil, Mello found it in him to break the silence.
"Matt, if you're cold, I guess you could sit a little closer to me. If you want to... maybe..." Receiving no answer, Mello listened carefully and detected steady breathing and a soft, barely-audible snore from his companion. "Fuck you, being able to sleep outside in the cold... with the bugs..." Mello spat to the side, irritated, before getting to his hands and knees and crawling toward the redhead. He laid next to Matt and let his eyes slip closed. "Bastard, with your ship-wrecked boat, and your magic bug-repelling body, and your-" the rest of his words rattled off with a yawn, and the blonde was finally able to fall asleep.
...
Morning came.
Matt had been up for hours. Sitting on the beach, stripped down to his boxers, he was content to watch the sunrise with a majestic beauty that he'd only ever seen on postcards and default desktop backgrounds. The way the colors bloomed across the sky and reflected in the warming water's surface, it was visual poetry at its best. And, sitting there with his toes buried in the sand, Matt didn't miss the sound of an alarm clock, the ticking of a clock, and the rush to get ready, the agony of traffic and the woes that came with being hard at work and undermined all the same.
Some small part of him felt free, like he could just be content here in his own personal oasis. His own private vacation.
Another part of him missed the convenience of microwaving the remains of last night's dinner, and he was grossly reminded of this as his stomach growled.
Sighing, he stole another long look at the display of colors before getting up and deciding to get something done.
After last night's cold, he was certain of the need for fire. To make a fire, he'd need to make a bow-drill. A bow-drill consisted of four parts: the bow, the hand-hold, the spindle (also known as the 'drill') and the fireboard.
He found a sturdy sapling just under 3 feet long, and he strung it with the cordage Mello had acquired the day before. Knowing that the cordage would snap under pressure, Matt first had taken liberty of stripping them at length and then braiding them together; this strengthened the cord pre-stringing. His bow completed with ease, he needed a spindle. He scavenged a simple branch and snapped off a 6 inch piece. Then, using a rock he'd found off the side of the beach, he gradually beat the ends down until they were carved to meet the criteria needed. He used cedar and basswood for the fireboard and hand-hold. Using the same rock as before, he carved a small divot in each.
Finally, his four pieces were done and he could test it out.
He placed his fireboard on the ground and held it with his left foot, kneeling with his right knee on the other side of the board. He wrapped the bow-string once around the spindle and placed the pointed end of the spindle into the divot made in the fireboard. Next, he capped the hand-hold on the top of the spindle, holding that with one hand and taking the bow in the other. Pressing firmly, he began to saw, the bow and string working the spindle back and forth, faster and faster as he pressed harder.
In time, a blackness began to form in the fireboard as the friction built heat and began to burn through the dry cedar. And, after seven or so more revs, it began to smoke. Seeing this as a victory, Matt quickly pulled the bow and drill away from the fireboard and snatched some dry weeds from nearby, nestling it together around the heated board and blowing softly, biting his lip nervously in those last few tell-tale seconds...
It was make-it-or-break-it. This either worked, or he'd have to start over. Still a little chilled from the night before, he prayed to whatever deity would listen, that this would work.
Then, just when he was about to give up, a small flame caught onto grass and weeds. Feeling the heat radiate from the small fire, Matt felt his chest tighten and a grin spread across his face. Getting up and running to grab dry logs and willow bark that lay nearby, he couldn't help yelling "Mello, come quick! We've made fire!" Too proud of himself for what he'd accomplished, he didn't bother to mend or re-think his sentence. Fire had been his own success, but he never had any problem sharing credit. And as far as he was concerned, they were in this mess together. Partners.
Tired and scratching at the red bumps from bug bites, Mello emerged from a distance and slowly stumbled over towards the redhead. Irritated and spiteful of mornings in general, he could easily think of a few choice words to throw at Matt, but one look at the smoke and fire, and those would-be nasty words were replaced by a bark of laughter. His vigor renewed, he raced over to help grab wood for the fire. "How the fuck did you do this, Matt?" Mello asked, dropping dried cedar over the burning embers and then reaching his hands over the heat, letting the warmth wash over his chilled form. "Fuck, I never thought fire could be so amazing."
Matt just stood back and grinned, glad to see the blonde in such good spirits, and... glad for the fire too. "Well, partner, what do you say to breakfast?"
Hearing that, Mello looked at Matt incredulously. "Partner? You may have given us fire, but let's not forget that it's YOUR fault we're here to begin with! You can call me partner when you do something useful other than correcting your own damn mistakes!"
With that, Mello stomped off angrily, walking alongside the beach and crying out when his bare foot was assaulted by the claw of a crab.
And Matt stood there watching, surprised and a little disappointed. "Someone's got a bee in their bonnet," Matt whispered under his breath. "S'gonna take more than fire to fix that, I guess." Taking a deep breath, Matt yelled "Hey Mells, get your foot off the crab! We can eat that!"
...
/I kinda wanna have Matt woo Mello in this setting. Could be fun. /