Miguel lost sight of Cortes' ship behind a particularly large wave, and his tiny boat was thrown further away from the ship, which would have been good if it hadn't been for the increase in the distance between him and the drowning, unconscious brunette. Altivo was doing surprisingly well, all things considered, but the human of their party was freaking out.
He dove into the water, searching the murky depths for something, anything familiar – there! Right there, to the far left, he could have sworn he'd glimpsed a pale face. Surfacing to catch a full breath, Miguel dove again, swimming as hard as he could. His lungs burning as he reached Tulio, he waved his hand in front of his face. The water was even more unclear here. He opened his mouth to let out some air, and accidentally tasted it.
Blood. The water around Tulio's right shoulder was thick with warm blood. Miguel grabbed Tulio around the chest and swam upwards, his vision already clouding, his kicking growing weaker...
He broke the surface and gulped down air greedily, dog paddling his way to the boat. The waves seemed to be making up for their previous cruelty, as they pushed him towards it. Altivo leaned over and caught a mouthful of Tulio's shirt, yanking him roughly into the boat. He did the same for Miguel, although the blond half lifted himself.
Cortes was long gone by now, the waves having thankfully pushed them apart. The wind seemed to pass over them, leaving the water quite choppy, but not as turbulent as before. Though it was difficult to tell, the water seemed to push the little boat straight on in one direction, though the lack of sun or stars made it difficult to tell which point on the compass they were being directed to. The rain still came down in torrents, but it wasn't really an issue.
Breathing hard, Miguel finally sat up and looked down at Tulio. The brunette was lying on his side facing him, the arrow from the crossbow sticking out of his shoulder. Miguel gulped.
He lifted his friend onto the bench, carefully placing his limp torso slightly to the side, so the arrow hung off the bench and didn't get jammed further in. He leaned down over his face, checking for breath. There was none.
"Okay," Miguel said, a little nervously. Altivo nickered, shaking his head. Miguel glared. "Shut up." He tilted Tulio's head back and opened his mouth, and stopped. When he'd thought of kissing Tulio, it had never gone anything like this. A little flustered, he focused on how Tulio had betrayed him. It added a bit of indifference, and made it easier to ignore the giddy shivers that raced through him when he touched his mouth to his.
He breathed out harshly, sat up and pushed on Tulio's chest. His heart was beating, thank God. He did this a few more times, waiting impatiently, when finally there was coughing, and Tulio's eyes opened groggily. He blinked up at Miguel, who went back to leaning over his head, (he'd been in the act of pushing on Tulio's chest again,) when the taller man tentatively told him, "Your skills could use some work." Miguel had to laugh at that.
They floated along in silence for a while, and he tried not to think of Tulio at all. Not the betrayal, not the mouth to mouth, and he often found himself dragging his eyes away from the tourniquet still high up on the man's leg. He hardly noticed the rain stop and the waves calm. He drifted off to sleep still deliberately not thinking about Tulio, and thinking of him as consequence.
When he woke, it was to the sound of shallow breathing and the feel of the sun beating down on him.
"What time is it?" he asked, sitting up. Tulio struggled to do the same.
"Around noon," he replied, looking straight up into the sun. "Where's Chel?" he whispered. Miguel shrugged.
"She wanted to stay."
"I should have known." The chuckle that followed made Miguel's skin crawl. It was too dark for Tulio. The sarcastic smirk on his face made him feel sick.
"Alright," he said, changing the subject. "Let's get that arrow out of you." He got an alarmed glance, and then a resigned nod.
"I'll need something to bite," Tulio pointed out. Miguel looked around.
"A rope?" he suggested. Tulio shook his head. "Okay, um... your belt?" Looking down, Tulio fumbled with the metal buckle on the leather strap around his leg. His right hand shook, and he paused.
"Let me do it," Miguel suggested. Tulio nodded.
He didn't even stop to think about it, but when his hands reached the belt, he realized just where he was putting them. Gritting his teeth, he undid the belt, pulling it from around the leg with both hands. Tulio, luckily, didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't pay attention to the fact that Miguel left his hand on his inner thigh a moment longer than necessary.
Folding the leather, he stuck it in Tulio's mouth while he was busy wiggling his foot as the blood flow went back to normal. He ordered him to turn around and the man grabbed onto the sides of the boat and tried to relax.
When Miguel gave the arrow a soft tug, Tulio tensed and let out a small groan. "On three I'm going to pull it straight out, okay?" Tulio glanced over his shoulder and nodded. "One," he started, gripping the arrow. "Three!" He ripped the arrow out as fast as he could, and a scream came out with it.
"I'm sorry, Tulio, but I had to." The brunette collapsed to the floor of the boat. "There's some wine back here. Take off your shirt and we'll pour it on. We can't have it getting infected." Tulio shook his head.
"No. It'll be fine."
"Tulio, don't be silly. Come on."
"No, Miguel."
"You leave me no choice," the blond replied. He forcefully turned Tulio around and lifted his shirt and vest over his head, and then turned him around again. He gasped.
Covering his back was over a hundred lashes, some bleeding slightly, and all of them badly infected. Tulio moaned.
"Tulio, why? Why did they..." Then Miguel understood. "You took my share."
"Three times yours, three times mine, and torture for entertainment. Yeah," Tulio said, nodding. His voice cracked.
Miguel looked at his face, shocked. Salt water that didn't come from the ocean was making streaks down his cheeks. Tulio was crying. "I'm sorry, Miguel. I couldn't let them do it to you. Not you." Despite how much it might have hurt him, he pulled him into a hug.
"You're an idiot," he said, petting his hair comfortingly. Tulio squeezed back and sobbed into his shoulder.
He felt horrible, but at the same time, the realization that he could trust Tulio again made him unspeakably happy. Then a thought donned on him, and he became incredibly worried.
Tulio didn't cry. It just didn't happen. He'd cried in the boat when he thought he was going to die, but never before had Miguel seen him cry. Even when he was a child.
Suddenly very aware of Tulio's burning hot forehead pressed into his neck, he stopped to think. Did Tulio think he was going to die? His fever was still bad, and he was pretty beaten up. He must be scared... Gripping him tighter, enough that he worried about hurting him, Miguel whispered, "Don't worry darling. I'm not going to let you leave me. Not ever." He pressed a kiss to his hair, and tried to sooth his friend who shuddered with sobs. He hummed lightly and rocked him back and forth until he stopped crying and drifted off to sleep. Despite the sun, Miguel quickly did the same.