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the-kr8tor · 8 months

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Batten Down the Hatches

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, TW panic attack, CW Injury, CW food mentions.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

With Pavitr’s arm slung over your shoulder and James handing you a glass that smells incredibly strong, your heart has never felt this content in years. You laugh as Yuri wins an arm wrestle round for the third time that day. Everyone cheers, Yuri flexes with a rare wide smile.

It's been a few hours since your daring jump, you can still feel Hobie's hands on yours and the crew clasping your shoulders happily once they finally lifted you up. With their warm welcome and after the whole debacle, Hobie insisted that there should be a celebration for a mission accomplished.

“Someone rum me up!” she yells and you immediately give her your untouched glass. “Oh hell yeah, thank you, wifey!” Yuri winks, already drunk.

“I'm not your wife, Yuri!” You happily yell above the noise.

She gasps dramatically, “oh you wound me!” You shake your head with a smile.

“Yeah, Yuri, she's already taken!” Pav pipes up from your side, shaking your shoulders.

You clasp your hand over his chattering mouth, the crowd guffaws, asking you numerous questions.

“Oi! Who's got you all smitten then?” Two fingers asks.

“Oh look at her smile!” Ned joins in with the teasing.

“Alright, who do I have to fight for your hand?” Yuri has her hands on her hips, a teasing smile on her painted lips.

“No one! Pav's being a little shit!” you wrangle Pav while he tries to wiggle out.

He manages to get out, acting like he's deprived of air. “Isn't it obvious, it's the ca–”

Finn huffs loudly, his large frame casting a shadow over the small table. You sigh, relieved that Finn unintentionally saved you from all the teasing.

Yuri looks him up and down, the alcohol in her veins inflates her ego. With a smug smile on her lips, she sits back down on the stool, laying her elbow down on the table, flexing her hand towards Finn, challenging him for a match.

Everyone quiets down, flicking their eyes between the two.

You never thought you'd see the day, Finn grins, sitting across Yuri. With a loud thump, he copies his opponent’s movement, his large hand dwarfing Yuri's.

A loud cheer erupts, overflowing cups sloshing out, some even jump for joy. You blame the alcohol.

Pav leaves your side, going around to collect bets. The crew coughs up coins, you watch, beaming, nodding along to the light strumming of Ned's well loved guitar.

Backing away from the crowd, you leave everyone to get some air. The throbbing ache in your ankle protests so you lean on the ship's bannister, watching the vast sea waving to you. The afternoon sun bearing down, its warmth a welcome one from the cool sea breeze.

A steaming cup suddenly appears, balancing on the wooden railing. A lithe hand pushes it towards you wordlessly.

“Another olive branch?” You tease, side eyeing Hobie.

“No, I figured you'd want something to drink when you didn't drink the rum.” With his back against the bannister, elbows propped over it, he leans casually, face upwards, basking in the sun. His silver piercings glint in the light, a familiar pendant around his neck.

“Were you watching me? You stalker” taking the cup, you raise it to your smiling lips. Turmeric, you surmise based on the taste. You let the herbal tea soothe your aching ankle.

“I was watching my crew.” Hobie faces you, muscles relaxed, content. “How's the injury?”

“Getting better,” you twist your foot around, testing the pain. There's a dull ache now, the ice from Nellie's helped. “How'd you know about turmeric?” looking at him, you watch as his smile turns into a grin.

“‘m full of surprises I guess.” he throws your own words at you.

You roll your eyes, “You're insufferable, captain.”

“And I, you.” His eyes are soft. Before you know it, Hobie's already walking away.

The roaring laughter gets your attention. Yuri stands on the rickety table, arms up in glee with a look that screams ‘I'm a winner!’ Meanwhile, Finn is standing next to her, visibly worried, holding onto a very drunk Yuri who keeps riling up the crowd with her triumphant yells.

You guess the rum has special properties if Yuri can beat the large Finn at his own game.

The crew parts for Hobie, you'd think he would put a stop to Yuri's rambunctious celebration. Instead, he hops up on the wobbly table, sharing the already small space with Yuri who guffaws loudly, clapping rhythmically.

“Scoundrels!” She yells at the top of her lungs, the crew cheers, matching her energy.

Gwen sidles up next to you wordlessly, shoving you lightly. Giving her a smile, you watch the carriage wreck in front of you.

“May I introduce, Hobie motherfuckin’ Brown!” Yuri drops backwards, making you flinch towards her general direction. Good thing Finn's got her in his strong arms.

Yep, she's properly drunk off her ass.

Hobie takes a glass from someone, raising it up, the crew quiets down. A hush fills the ship, the sound of wood rocking against waves can only be heard above the silence.

“Rapscallions” They urge him on. “ne'er-do-wells!” The cheering gets louder. “Fuckin’ rascals!” He paused, the yells are ear drum bursting. “We finally got the king's swine!” You hear glasses breaking.

Hobie continues, quieting down the entire ship with one clear of his throat. “With the papers we have we finally know where the son of a bitch is sailing to.” His voice shakes from sheer anger and determination. “This time we get the upper hand.” His men hoot and cheer. “We will fight until we get our hands on the bastard that cut half of our crew. This time we get our bloody revenge!”

He downs the entire glass of rum in one drink, swallowing it like water. Meanwhile the rest of the crew follow his lead, gulping their own drinks fervently.

The cheering got so loud your ears started ringing.

You really hope they get the navy captain so that you can find your family who may or may not be up north. Until then, you'll stay with the crew and hope for the best that there'll be minimal injuries incurred during the fight.

—

You can't seem to find sleep despite how tired you were of yesterday’s events. Tossing and rolling in your bed, with a huff, you fling away the blanket. Lacing up your well worn shoes, you open the creaking door quietly.

With only the moonlight as your guide, you walk the familiar hallways, feet carefully avoiding the noisy floorboards.

Entering the library, lighting the oil lamp left on the table, you roam the bookshelves. With the help of the lamp, it illuminates the old spines. But nothing has piqued your interest, finding the titles too dull to keep your attention or too engrossing that you might not fall asleep when you inevitably drown in its pages.

Yawning, you think of another way to help you sleep. Maybe a glass of water might help? Or better yet, a cup of warm tea and biscuits might satiate you.

So you traverse the hallways once again, passing by cabins. Careful not to make any noise or you might face the wrath of a sleep deprived pirate. You know what they say, it's better to tease a drunk pirate rather than wake one from their slumber.

With silent footfalls, you almost jump in your skin when you see the captain himself brewing a pot of something that smells incredibly sweet.

With his back turned away from the door, you're sure you can slink away without him noticing.

“Scuttlebutt,” he half chuckles as the floorboards under you creak while you try to escape. “Want some hot chocolate?”

You groan, defeated. Turning around, he greets you with a smug smile, his eyes showing how fatigued he is but the light is still there, saying otherwise.

“What the hell is hot chocolate?” crossing the space, you lean on the kitchen island, facing Hobie on the other side. “I thought chocolate was supposed to be cold.”

“You're in for a treat then. ‘m guessing you've never had chocolate before?” he takes a clean mug for you, laying it next to his.

“Nope,” you pop the letter p, trying your best not to wipe your heavy eyes. “Chocolate is a luxury few can afford.”

Hobie hums, pouring the hot liquid in each cup.

This is what ambrosia might've smelt like, you thought.

“It's chocolate melted down with hot water or milk. Lucky for you, we got a few bottles of ‘em from one of the families. But we need to consume it fast or it'll go bad quickly.”

He hands you the cup, taking it tentatively, you don't flinch back when he suddenly grabs your hand to hold it when he gets impatient from your apprehensiveness.

“Don't worry, I already gave Pav and the first shift their share so you can drink to your heart's content.”

You look into the swirling brown liquid, the warmth from the cup soothes your nerves. Taking a sip, Hobie watches with crinkling eyes and a smile hidden behind his own mug.

“Holy fuck! Sweet nectar of the Gods!” You say before you take a big gulp, the heat searing your tongue. “Ack!” Spluttering out, Hobie lets out a loud laugh.

“Be careful it's hot” he says in between laughs.

“I know, but it's so good though!” You exclaim, eyes twinkling with mirth.

Hobie chuckles, watching you swallow the liquid down to the last drop.

You sigh, full and happy. “If solid chocolates taste like this then I'm more than ready to raid a merchant ship carrying crates of it.”

Hobie shakes his head. “I've never thought chocolate could make someone a pirate.”

“Not a pirate.” You move to pour yourself a cup. Hobie beats you to it, the sweet drink sloshing inside, filling it to the brim.

“Hmm” he watches you through his lashes.

“You're thinking, that's bad.” You take your cup but Hobie holds it hostage with his hand over the ceramic.

“What are you really doing back here?”

“I couldn't sleep, I just wanted some water.” you move to try and take the mug from him but he moves it further from you.

“There's some outside.”

“Fuck off.” Your hips hit the corner of the kitchen counter harshly as you try to grab your cup sneakily. The mug of precious chocolate scrapes on the counter, making you glare at Hobie when a few drops of it spills. “What do you really mean by that, Hobie?”

He scoffs, “You being here is suspicious—”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not navy.” You say with gritted teeth. You're not sure if he's just messing with you or he's truly being genuine.

“Not that. Not after O’Hara ran a bloody marathon for you, I know you're not one of ‘em. Or at least not anymore.”

You glare at him, getting angrier the second he uttered that name.

“Are you a deserter? Hmm? Are you his runaway bride? If so I don't blame you, I'd run away too.”

You grimace. “Fuck no, I'm neither of those things! Now can you please give me my chocolate?”

“No.” He blinks like he just got some revelation. “Fuck, are you his kid?”

“No! What? How'd you even get that conclusion? Do I look like—?”

“For all I know you could be an aristocrat.” He raises a brow.

“Oh come on!” You're properly annoyed. “I've been scrounging up food and coins for years. If I was a runaway noble lady then I would've come home to my mansion the second I was starving!”

“Why did the retired admiral run after you then? He looked like he wanted your bloody arse.”

“It's none of your business.” The fire in your eyes tries to convey your emotions. “I don't want to talk about him.” your voice turns shaky.

“It's my business because you're on my ship. If Miguel O'Hara's after you I need to know if the rest of my crew is in danger.” a few weeks ago his infuriated face would've scared you but now you're equally as mad as him.

You exhale, knuckles closed tightly on your side. “Fine, I'm here on your ship because you're heading north and I need to go north. You don't need to know about me and that man because I'm leaving when we get there. He won't come after the crew, I won't let him.”

His anger dissipates, eyes avoiding your own. “Here,” he stretches his arm, sliding the cup to you. Hobie winces from the movement, grabbing onto his chest instinctively.

“What is it?” You look at his pained expression. Walking around the counter, you step towards him, not too close but not too far that you wouldn't notice how his brows are knitted together, sweat dripping on his forehead.

Carefully reaching for him, you turn him gently towards you, not missing how hot his skin is under his shirt. “Hobie, look at me.” You say softly, hand squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

After a beat he looks at you with his stormy eyes, rain clouds dancing around his vision. “‘m fine, just need to sit down.”

“Let me see please” He freezes in front of you. “I'm here to help, aren't I? Now can I?” With a nod, he unbuttons his shirt slowly. Now open, a bandage is taped across his chest, dark blood seeping through it, clearly needing to be changed. “Fuck.”

“That bad?” He rasps.

“Yes, sit down.” You guide him towards a chair, surprisingly, he lets you. “I need to take it off to see the wound.” Hobie nods.

You kneel down in front of him, he sucks in his teeth with every tug and pull you do. The wound looks almost infected because of the careless bandaging and half hearted cleaning.

“Stay here, I'll get the things I need.”

He stops you with his hand bracelet around your wrist. “Tell me why you need to head north. There's nothing there but pompous politicians and leeching royals.”

“I think–” you start but you have no idea how to continue. Hobie looks up at you, hand sliding down to fit your own. “I think my family's there.” Without sparing any detail, you slip your hand out, turning away to head towards the infirmary.

—

His skin is hot against your hands, too warm for your liking. Sitting in between his legs, cotton shirt fully opened to reveal his wound and scarred chest. His newly bandaged knuckles rested on his thighs, they didn't need much cleaning but the skin was still open so you still did it just in case. The bottles of herbs rattle as the boat rocks from side to side.

Hobie's legs bounce up and down, the silence and tension is thick enough that your needle couldn't even poke through it. The ointment you're gently rubbing on him makes him wince, trouser leg bundled up in his shaking knuckles.

“Sorry, if there's any consolation, I hate this stuff too.” you quietly say. The strong smell from the mixture makes your nose itch.

“Were you a clumsy kid?” Hobie says, sucking in his teeth.

“Mm-hmm, I was climbing everywhere.” Chuckling softly. “Up in trees, roofs, got into so much trouble that she–” You stop, swallowing thickly. “I got a few scars to prove it.”

“We could compare–” he winces again when you press a little too hard on his wound but not too hard for it to bleed again. “Fuck…”

You hide your smile with a clear of your throat. “Sorry.”

“Fuck off, I know you're not sorry.” He laughs while you stifle yours.

Packing the mixture on his wound to combat any further infection, you make your hands extra gentle with every press and swipe.

“You should've told me about this.” Chastising him, you feel his eyes burn into your skull. “I could've prevented this, you know.”

“I've been told ‘m a stubborn bastard.”

“Oh I know. You did a shitty job at cleaning it by the way.”

“That's why you're here now, right?” His idle hands play with a hanging thread by your sleeves. He's not tugging at it so you don't mind, anything to keep his mind off the pain.

“So how'd you know about the turmeric for swelling?” You don't answer his question.

His smile falters before a small fond smile appears. “From someone a long time ago.”

Finishing up with cleaning his gash, you take a clean bandage from the table to cover and protect it. “They must be good then. Not a lot of people know about it.”

“Yes, she was.”

You pause, staring directly at his sad eyes. Hobie continues, “She was like you, brazen and full of fire.” He stares off into the distance, “A bloody force to be reckoned with.”

“A jack of all trades, she was. Always tryin’ to learn shit she didn't have to know.” Hobie flicks his eyes to you. “She knew how to swim, so that's a plus.”

You chuckle as he stares at your soft smile.

“Yours?” He asks tentatively, hand twitching to get closer to you.

“Does she know about ginger and honey?” Like a switch flicking, you stand up abruptly. “It's gonna help with your fever.”

Hobie doesn't press you for any information, instead, he lays back on the chair, letting you pamper him while your hot chocolate gets cold on the counter.

Preparing his tea, you can't help but feel bad for Hobie. Without him ever saying her name you know it's her, and you know he cared about her so much that whatever happened to MJ drove him to this state; a constant agony and hunger for revenge that if not satiated might consume him. He doesn't deserve it you think, he might be a pirate but during the time you've known him you found kindness in his frozen heart that's just waiting to be thawed out the moment he gets his revenge.

For his sake and the crew, you hope he gets what he always wanted.

“Here,” handing him the hot concoction, you're careful not to spill a single drop on him.

Hobie takes it, calloused fingers brushing yours. Taking a whiff of it, he makes a face that makes you scoff with a smile.

“If you can drink an entire glass of rum without choking then you can handle a simple tea.”

He side eyes you, shaking his head like a petulant child rejecting his medicine.

“Down the hatch, Hobie.” Bringing your hand under the cup, you guide it towards his tightly closed mouth. “It's sweet!”

“Nuh-uh” he shuts his lips closed the second he says it before you could shove the tea down his gullet.

Laughing, you can't believe the big bad captain of the bloodsail pirates is refusing to drink a simple ginger tea. “Do you need me to plug your nose, you big baby?” You say in between giggles.

“No, fine, I'll bloody drink it. I don't want your grimey hands all over my face.”

“These grimey hands were all over your chest treating your wound, you absolute child.” You regret your words the second you realize.

“Oh you were all over me, huh?” He smirks. You're glad that he can still smile after everything.

“Fuck off, drink it or don't, I don't care. Go die in a corner or something” you shrug, playing him like a fiddle.

“You really do care about me, Scuttlebutt.” With a deep breath, Hobie drinks the contents without any fuss.

You pat yourself on the back mentally. He coughs, scrunching his nose.

“I need to check your wound and clean it every eight hours. Got it?” You face him directly, hand on the side of his chair, looking down at him sternly.

“So you're finally askin' me out then? Pav was right, you're smitten.” Hobie has the brightest smile of a feverish man you've ever seen.

“Shithead.” You say, snatching the empty cup from his hands.

“You really do care about me. You've even given me a nickname”

You shake your head, taking your cold chocolate, flipping him the bird on the way out of the door.

“Lookin' forward to my next doctor's appointment, Trouble!” Hobie yells after you, his loud guffaw can be heard echoing out in the hallways.

—

You fall back into a comfortable routine. Helping the crew with their tasks and learning their ways throughout the time spent. You finally learn that the murky bucket of water doesn't have lye in it after seeing James dunk his entire arm in it. It's safe to say that he was covered in soapy water from head to toe after almost giving you a heart attack.

Ned's been teaching you how to mend the sails when you're not in the galley with Finn. He tells you tales of the time he was a traveling bard before the war. His stories were very colourful and sometimes not for the faint of heart. Who knew he had so many fans?

You've never smelt like gunpowder before, finding the powder tucked into the cloth of your clothes and sticking to your skin. The main culprit of the almost daily gunpowder bath is no other than Yuri and two fingers who took it upon themselves to teach you how to load a cannon and a musket. Under all the flirting, Yuri's a great teacher, your aim could do some work but at least now a gun isn't worthless in your hands.

At night, Miles and Pavitr would teach you about the stars and how to read maps, using it to navigate just in case you get lost. Which you hope will never happen to you. It would be a great skill to master if only you three would stop gossiping and giggling throughout the night, bellies full of tea and biscuits that Finn hides in the galley.

You find Gwen reading in the library alone from time to time. At first, you kept your distance, reading further away from her. But after a while, you notice that her favourite chair gets closer to yours until you sit side by side with her, reading quietly under a single oil lamp.

There's never a dull moment on the ship, everyone does their share of the work, and everyone gets to eat and be left to their own devices during the night. It's great, you think. You don't worry about your next meal or where you need to sleep anymore.

Your mind has never been this quiet since you left home.

Surprisingly, Hobie's been diligent at keeping your regularly scheduled injury maintenance on time. Even if you forget, he would appear out of nowhere, clutching your bag of supplies in his hands with a shit eating grin that makes you want to rip his bandage off harshly.

The brightness of the sun filtering through the large window hinders your vision a bit as you carefully take Hobie's stitches off. Your brows are knitted together, eyes full of concentration as sweat drips on your forehead. You could've done this in the infirmary but Hobie had to do a bunch of work in his cabin so you're currently doing your best at managing while he walks around the large table sat in the middle of the room. You follow him with your sutures and scissors. The sight must have been hilarious because half of the crew were chuckling and stifling a laugh.

But the moment you were finished, you threw them the nastiest glare you could muster. Shutting them all up immediately, looking away from you nonchalantly. You pretend you don't see them hiding their smiles.

Sitting down on a free chair, huffing and with your arms aching, you twist your wrists around, massaging the tired muscles with your fingers.

Miles sits next to you, a piece of paper landing right on top of your hands. Your own face stares back at you, a pencil sketch of you, face full of concentration.

“Did you draw this?” You say, surprised and with a bright grin on your face.

“No, Hobie did.” He says sarcastically but you believed him for a second. “Of course I did, it was a bit hard when you were following Hobie around like a duckling.”

“That's a compliment, ducklings are cute, Miles.” He rolls his eyes, “this is amazing though, thank you. I haven't had my likeness drawn in…never actually.”

Miles smiles, taking out a small leather bound sketchbook from his back pocket. “Prepare to be surprised then.”

He flips through it, you get glimpses of drawings from far flung sceneries, animals that you don't know the names of and faces of the crew; some familiar, some are strangers to you. But you see more of Gwen's face amidst the pages. You fight the urge to tease him, maybe you'll do that when half of the crew isn't discussing battle plans in front of you. Their faces are serious and intense as Hobie lays out figures on a map.

“You're this bored, huh?” With your elbow resting on your thigh, you watch him stop on a page.

“Look at this one” he proudly says, eyes twinkling. Showing you the pages, his hand still holding it just in case you had the audacity to flip through it yourself.

You can't believe it's your own face staring back at you.

Your eyes smile in the drawing, the unmistakable shine of happiness in them. Face turned to side, clearly looking at something. Your lips are curled up into a grin like someone just told you the funniest joke ever. The shading is expertly done by Miles, *it's like staring into a mirror, you thought. You've never seen yourself this happy.

“I'm guessing I did a good job?” He smugly says, “you're staring at it way too long, narcissus is that you?” Miles jokes, but his smile fades when he sees your eyes glistening in the sun. “Oh shit, please don't cry. Hobie's gonna kill me if I made you cry.”

You sniff, casually hiding the heat behind your eyes. “It's really good.” Chuckling, you feel a pair of eyes on your form. “Thank you, I–” exhaling, you have no idea how to properly thank him. Settling on a fist bump on his arm, you awkwardly do just that. “Thanks, you made me look prettier.”

He laughs, sighing in relief. “Nah, it was no problem. Making you look good was the hardest part.”

“You ruined it,” you scrunch up your nose, feigning annoyance. Pushing the notebook, shoving it to his chest he laughs loudly, too loud apparently when someone from the room shushes you two.

Miles winces before turning back to you. “You know what helped though? In getting your expression right?”

“No?”

“Hobie,” he says with a quick gesture towards the man. A mischievous smirk on his face. “You were talking to Hobie while I was drawing this.” Lifting the page back up, “look how happy you were!” You close the book with his fingers still inside.

Yelping, he glares at you. “I made you a portrait and this is how you thank me?”

“Shut it” your eyes roam the room, looking for someone who's eavesdropping on the conversation. Thankfully no one is. “Don't act like Gwen isn't on every page of your book.” you whisper shout at him.

“Oh so you're saying that the same feelings I have for Gwen can be translated to your feelings towards Hobie?” He teases you right back, whispering quieter. “I owe Pav a coin.”

“You little–!” He rockets away from his seat, weaving through the crew. “Come back here, Miles!” Chasing him, careful not to shove anyone, your fast footsteps echo in the hallways.

Miles yells back, gaining speed ahead of you. “I have Hobie's version too if you'd like to see it!”

“No! Fuck you! I'll tell Gwen!”

He turns heel, now running after you. Cursing, you turn around, back to where you came from. Sprinting, you both pass by Hobie's cabin lightning fast. The crew's laughter echoes out while you try to escape Miles.

Hobie can't help but crack a smile even when the topic at hand is serious and dire.

—

With a book in front of you, hands smelling of ink and paper, you glance at Gwen who's leaning on your side comfortably, using you as her personal backrest. You don't mind it since she snuck in hot chocolate for you.

“I've been thinking—”

“That's dangerous, don't hurt yourself.” She murmurs.

“Funny, ha ha” you laugh sarcastically. She snorts, eyes still glued on the page. “Seriously though, what's on the bow of the ship? I've only seen mermaids and the occasional angel carved on it but I've never seen one like the one here. Where in the world did Hobie even get it?”

“It's a dragon.” Gwen says without looking back at you.

“A dragon? But it doesn't have any wings though?”

She sits up, gently laying the book on her lap, looking prim and proper. “A version of it, I guess? It's popular in the east.” You listen intently so she continues. “In their stories, the dragons symbolize luck and strength, which we need now more than ever.” stretching her neck, she continues. “And Hobie traded it in exchange for our boring old siren.”

You chuckle, “What's the difference between the ones in our mythology and theirs? Other than the lack of wings and looking way cooler.”

“They say they have the power to control the weather and are big enough to swallow the moon.” you whistle out, intrigued. “Maybe after the fight we can sail over there and show you around the place?” she asks, grinning.

“I'd love that.”

You should tell her that you're not staying after the fight, but you don't want to ruin the moment or her mood. You'll tell her when you get the chance, for now, you let them focus on what's coming.

“We named him Terrence by the way.”

You giggle. “I'll be sure to greet him every morning.”

—

The clean water splashed on your head is a nice reprieve from the searing heat. Being the so-called ‘doctor’ on the ship, Hobie thought it would be a great idea for you to also be their designated water girl to combat heat stroke. It's easy work, reminding them to drink water and also just dumping a splash of water on the crew's head using a soup ladle. You're having fun actually, just randomly (and sneakily) pouring water over their heads whenever they complain about the heat while toiling under the sun, watching them shriek and jump from the sudden gush of water. Now they rarely complain anymore, that just means you've done a good job at keeping them all alive under the heat.

But there's one person who you haven't dumped water on yet, which with the help of Finn and his strength, you're about to remedy that.

Hobie stands near the helm, observing Pavitr sailing the ship with ease. You and Finn carry the entire barrel of half full water, (it's mostly Finn doing the work) carefully sneaking behind Hobie to dump the entire contents on him.

Before you could signal Finn to pour it on Hobie, he turns around, hands placed on his hips and a face that says: I dare you.

You freeze mid step, darting your eyes towards your little helper. Finn shrugs, subtly pointing his head towards Hobie.

“Well—?” With one strong heave of the barrel, pointing it directly towards Hobie, the water hits him with a splash, completely drenching him.

The sound gets everyone's attention, seeing their captain wet as a freshly caught fish, the roaring laughter fills the ship, pointing, hollering and whistling at their captain.

The smile on your lips fades, eyes widening when you flick your eyes downward, you've never thought a harmless prank could make your heart beat faster and for heat to rise to your cheeks. And it's not the sun that's causing that or a symptom of heat exhaustion, no, it's Hobie and his unfortunate white cotton shirt that's completely soaked through, sticking to his skin, showing off his chiseled torso. You don't dare look further down, you might not recover from what you could possibly get a glimpse of.

Hobie splutters, wiping at his wet face, water dripping from his entire body. You swallow thickly, Finn notices your sudden silence. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, head tilted like he caught your hand in the cookie jar.

You blink rapidly, “W-what?” Side eyeing Finn. He raises a brow, “What? I may not like him but I still have eyes, you know.”

“Liar.” He says in a deep voice, making you do a double take.

“Did you just—?”

“Y/N,” Hobie addresses you, eyes telling you to run. “You better not let me catch you.”

You squeak, bolting immediately. The crew guffaws loudly like they're watching the best entertainment the sea could offer. Sprinting down the stairs, hearing footsteps behind you, your old injury flares up, almost tripping you.

Hobie catches you before you could fall flat on your face. His drenched arms around your middle, his clothes squelching on your back, the water seeping through your own clothes.

“Time to walk the plank again, Scuttlebutt!” He jokes but the way he carries you towards the plank has you wiggling out, hitting his arms.

“It was a joke!” You scream. He walks closer, “a jape!” Hobie stops near the edge. “A jest!”

His laugh reverberates, you feel his chest vibrating. He cranes his neck down, whispering close to the shell of your ear. “Did you really think I'll throw you overboard?” Goosebumps rise on your skin as he blows hot air. “I'll let Finn do it instead.”

Biting your lip, hands gripping his wrists, you decide to rag him on after knowing he won't actually throw you into the shark infested waters. “yeah? Why don't you do it yourself? Be a man, captain”

Behind you, the crew continues to cheer. Pav even lets out a ‘lets go!’

Hobie chuckles deeply, squeezing you once. “You cheeky—”

The alarm bells from the crow’s nest rings out, James yells from above. “Vessel approaching! Starboard!”

Hobie lets you go, taking a telescope from a serious looking Gwen.

The blood in your veins turn into ice, holding on to the railing, you grip it as you feel your knees give out.

You can't hear what anyone is saying with blood rushing in your ears, frantic voices indistinct, igniting your nerves. Your breathing turns shallow, you try to count backwards in your head but it's no use when your hands start shaking.

“Oi,” Hobie notices your distressed expression. Rushing to your side, his voice starts getting clearer when he places his hands on your cheeks, holding you gently like you're about to break from the slight pressure from his touch.

“Breathe, yeah?” He inhales and exhales, encouraging you to do the same. You copy him, staring only at Hobie. “There, good, just breathe.” His thumbs wipe at the tears you haven't noticed letting out.

After a beat of breathing in sync, Hobie nods. “It's alright, they're allies. You don't have to be scared.” He turns you around carefully, “see? They're waving.”

Pointing at a man clad in red, white and blue, Hobie squeezes your shoulder. “That's Captain Anarchy and right next to him is his first mate, Robbie Banner. They're here to help us win the fight.”

You calm down a little once you see the crew of the other ship smile and wave at you. Trusting Hobie, you look over your shoulder, his face too close to you, breath mixing in together. Flinching, you take a step back from his hold.

He lets you go, hands sliding away from your elbows, giving you space. You look uncharacteristically small in front of him, shoulders hunched, eyes looking down at your feet.

“You're alright, Y/N.” His reassuring and soft voice echoes amidst the rowdy crew behind him.

You could only nod.

—

It's been chaotic since the sons of the sea arrived. They have been welcoming and kind to you, too kind, in fact that you sometimes forget that they're pirates. Especially Robbie, he always goes out of his way to help your uneasiness. He once told you during dinner with the crew that he knows how it feels to be new; and for some reason he thought that you're Hobie's lover, saying that loving a pirate captain is pretty hard work. You shut down the conversation immediately.

Finally finding a time for yourself, you stretch your aching hands, gunpowder stuck in your nostrils. Hemp and pine tar sticking under your fingernails. You've never thought that you'd be preparing for war but here you are.

After the incident, you've made yourself scarce. With preparation and between meetings, you hadn't had a chance to speak with him. Or for Hobie to even try to approach you. His wounds have healed so you don't have any reason to keep seeing each other. But you find yourself holding on to two mugs of hot chocolate, trudging the cold hallways to his cabin.

The mugs are warm in your hands, the familiarity helping with your nerves. You have no idea what to say to him, maybe a simple thank you perhaps? You didn't intend to become that vulnerable in front of him, so maybe an apology? Whatever you end up saying to him, it all has to start with a simple knock on his door which you're currently standing stiffly in front of.

Juggling two mugs in one hand, you place your knuckles on the wood. Your ears perk up at the muffled voices inside. Against better judgment, you place your ear above the door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“—She’s not her, Hobie. I've seen how you act around her, how you look at her.” You strain your ears to hear better. “It's the same with MJ.” You blink in surprise.

“Gwen,” Hobie sighs, there's rustling on his end. “I don't like what you're insinuating.”

“I'm not insinuating anything. I'm saying this as a friend to you and to her. Don't. Just…don't” there's footsteps, “She's good for the crew, Hobie. We can't lose her.”

“I know she is.”

Gwen scoffs. “You just proved my point.”

“She's not her, I get it. Can you please go back to preparin’?”

“No, not until you get it in your thick skull.” she pauses. “She's her own person. I see it too, the similarities in their personalities. But Y/N’s not MJ.”

You almost drop the mugs.

“I know she's not MJ. I don't fancy her, I tolerate her.”

“Are you sure? Because you keep–”

His voice shakes. “MJ is gone and Y/N is Y/N. I know she's not MJ.”

Backing away from the door, emotions swirling into a dangerous concoction, face flat and lips downturned. You slowly bend down to place the mug on the side of his cabin door.

You have no idea how to react or confront it, so you just walked away. Throwing the information in the back of your mind, hoping it doesn't seep into your bones. Hope that it doesn't rot and spoil inside.

—

The sky is heavy with dark clouds, thunder booming like drum beats, lightning peeking out in the night. A storm is coming, you can feel it in your tendons, the smell of petrichor looming overhead, temperature dropping significantly. The fog obscuring the way doesn't help with your icy nerves. The rest of the crew battens down the windows, preparing to weather out the storm. You're not even that close to the destination and yet the sky is already preventing the ship from going further.

The sea is unusually calm despite the storm brewing ahead. A possible omen to what's to come next. You pray that you're wrong.

Shutting your window, locking it in place, you take your medical bag that's hanging from the cabin's doorknob. Making sure the door is properly closed, you head over to the deck.

You almost collide into a body, their hands holding on to your elbows.

“Woah there!” He holds you at arm's length. “You alright, doc?” His genuine smile makes the day a tad brighter.

“Captain Anarchy, hello and please don't call me that. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually a doctor.” You chuckle lightly.

“I won't call you doc if you don't call me captain anarchy.”

“Alright, what should I call you then?”

“Karl's fine. I'm not your captain anyway so why bother calling me captain y’know?”

You nod, “Yeah, I get it. Are you lost? These are the cabins.”

“Shit, yeah.” He scratches his head. “I swear this place is built like a maze. I'm looking for the galley actually, Finn said I can borrow some ingredients. I'm planning on cooking for everyone tonight.”

“That's really nice of you, thanks. I'll show it to you if you want?”

“That would be fantastic, thank you!”

Gesturing behind him, you lead him while he laughs at his own blunder. “Wait, Finn talked to you?”

“Mm-hmm, I've known him for a while. The secret is to talk about produce and spices then you won't be able to get him to shut up.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” You chuckle, shaking your head. Deciding to make small talk while weaving around hallways, you ask him. “How long have you been a pirate?”

He sighs, “Too fucking long.”

“Looking to retire?” you look over your shoulder, his face says it all.

“Absolutely, we're all just saving up so we could settle comfortably somewhere. Unfortunately taxes are really fucking high these days thanks to the asshole in the big chair.”

“You got that right. All these wars and sponsoring explorations got the people's coffers dry and empty.”

“Exactly! Man, Hobie really knows how to pick them, huh?” He shakes your shoulder like you're old friends. You don't flinch away, in case you offend the only ally Hobie has.

“We're not together.” you say flatly.

“That right? Sorry. Well, he did pick the right crew member then.”

“More like he fished me out of the sea.”

He laughs, the sound reminding you of a bird chirping. Karl looks at your humorless face. “Wait, seriously.”

“Yep, that's a story for another day because we're here.” you open the doors for him, showing him the galley.

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.” he shoots you a friendly wink.

“Of course, just give me extra portions later.” you joke.

He chortles, “I'll save the bigger bowl for you”

Before you leave, there's a question that's unfortunately gnawing in your head.

“Can I ask you something?”

He peeks over the counter, blue eyes staring back at you. “Shoot.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, it just means go ahead.”

“Right, uh…Did you know Hobie three years ago?” You cross your arms on your chest.

“I've known him far longer than that.”

“How was he back then?”

Karl thinks for a moment. He smiles, “Best damn pirate I've ever seen, next to me of course. He was younger, wide eyed, hungry for adventure, more than ready to take down the crown itself. Safe to say he's ambitious, he still is but—” he shakes his head. “For a different reason now.”

“Do you not think he can take down Matthias?”

“I have faith that he can and he will eventually. But I'm afraid that I'll never see that wide eyed Hobie ever again. He's gotten used to the flames, feeding it, letting it consume him. I don't think he'll be able to fight that fire after he gets what he wants.”

You clench your jaw. “What happened to MJ?”

“I don't think I'm the right person to tell you that.”

Nodding, you wordlessly thank him with a small smile.

“Wait, Y/N.” he calls for you.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, help him douse the fire? For everyone's sake.”

“I— I'll do my best.”

He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Promise me, please. I owe MJ that much.”

You exhale shakily. “I promise.”

Turning to leave, you fight with yourself. How could you make that promise when you plan to leave after Hobie wins? How do you keep that promise when you can't even look him in the eye? How do you tell Gwen and the others when their hearts are set to you staying on board?

Will it be worth it for you to leave what you currently have for someone who may not even exist?

You pause in the middle of the barren hallway, hand clutching tightly at the straps of your bag. Breathing heavily, you feel it rearing its ugly head again.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the alarm bells ringing, this time instead of curling around yourself, you decide to face it head on despite the shaking in your legs. The crew needs you, and you need them.

Crash!

The ship lunges harshly to the side, flinging you to the wall, head pounding on the hardwood.

Your vision blurs, white dots dancing, ears ringing and your head stinging from the impact.

“Fuck…” you crawl, doing your best to get up on the deck.

“They need you. Get up, lazybones.”

Hearing her voice whisper into your ear, makes you laugh coldly. You're probably concussed.

With a groan, you lift yourself up, using the wall as leverage.

With every heavy step, you straighten up, ignoring the pain in the back of your head. Walking up the steps makes you dizzy but you continue on.

Holding on to the door frame triumphantly, you reach the deck.

The fog has reached the ship, covering the entire deck in its thick mist. You notice the quiet, and the lack of movement from the crew. They all just stand stiffly, spaced away from each other. holding their weapons in their hands in a tight grip, the only indication that they're alright.

You spot Hobie in the middle of the crowd, eyes staring into the sea.

“Hobie?” You softly say. Grabbing his arm, you jump when he takes your wrist without taking his eyes off from what he's staring at.

His hand shakes, you're afraid to look.

“Y/N,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I'm sorry.”

His apology makes you follow his gaze.

The thick fog makes way for a dozen ships sailing towards you at incredible speeds, they open the lamps on their bows one by one. Like a hunter's gaze, they petrify you.

With your heart trying to escape your chest, you turn starboard, hopeful for a way out. But the sight alone would make you weep.

A larger ship looms over the revenge, its bow crashed on the side of the now splintered wood of the ship. The navy ship is Gilded and pristine, decorated with carvings of asphodels. The crowned angel with her wings spread out on the bow looks down at you through her wooden eyes.

Hobie clutches on to you tighter, scowling, shaking in sheer anger.

A menacing laugh echoes into the eerie silence.

You're surrounded.

204 notes · View notes

novosg · 1 year

Text

Who’s Your Friend? Pt 2

More Hobie x femMorales!reader and more protective Miles

This was really hard to write and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless.

Fluff, SFW, written with black!fem reader in mind, 2.1k words (😭)

The next time you see Hobie is at a party on the roof of your building. It was somebody’s birthday or promotion party, you didn’t know which and couldn’t find it in yourself to ask around and find out. If everyone started singing you’d just join in. The evening sun cast a lovely hue amongst everyone as the bass from Benny’s speaker reverberated through the air.

You’re pouring yourself another drink when your mother comes up next to you.

You smiled at her. “Hey, Mami, what’s up?”

She replied with a slight shake of her head as her eyes scanned the crowd. “Hi, baby. Have you seen your brother?”

Briefly, you thought back to the text Miles had sent you over twenty minutes ago, promising to be there soon. You had no idea what was keeping him but you could certainly think of a few things. Things that your parents definitely can’t know about.

So, you settled for, “No, I haven’t. But I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” She patted your arm in thanks before walking off, no doubt to ask others the same question.

As you watched her leave you pulled your phone out, ready to text Miles once more and find out where he was, but the sound of a door opening caught your attention. You turned and spotted your brother, along with three other familiar faces, stepping out onto the floor. Miles caught your eye and you let out a soft sigh of relief.

Miles moved to greet you, but Gwen and Pavitr beat him to it, practically rushing towards you. Eager words spilled from their lips as they came to a stop in front of you, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“It’s nice to see you guys again too,” you said with a smile. They were still chattering away until Miles came forward, slipping in between the two of them.

“Hey, did mom and dad say anything yet?” He asked. You simply shrugged.

“Mom asked where you were not too long ago. Better go see her and let her know you’re here.

What took you so long anyways?”

Miles sighed heavily at the question as he shook his head. “Just some guys tryna rob a bank.” Then, more proudly he added, “I handled it though.”

Gwen cut in, letting out an amused scoff. “You handled it? If it weren’t for me and Hobie—“

Pav chimed in as well. “Don’t forget I’m the one who disarmed them all,” he boasted with a grin.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you watched him and his friends bicker. It made you happy to see him being just Miles for once. Not Spider-Man #2. But your stubborn, little brother.

Hobie, who had been quiet for the majority of the exchange, looked over at you. He moved from behind the others to stand next to you, one of his elbows nudging yours. Your eyes turned up and he smiled down at you, his piercing rising with the curve of his lips.

“Hey,” he said softly. You couldn’t help but smile right back, willing the butterflies in your stomach to calm down.

“Hi,” you replied, equally as soft. You couldn’t deny it, you were smitten. In the short time you had known him, he had left an impression that had left your heart reeling and your affection towards him bordering on puppy love.

You were so smitten, in fact, you had taken to pestering Miles about him.

Every time you asked how Hobie was doing, or when his friends were stopping by again, you were met with the same reaction.

An irritated glare or sigh, followed by your brother grounding out, “He’s fine,” or, “Why do you need to know?” You were genuinely curious, but at some point you also started asking just to see the looks on Miles’ face.

The same Miles who was suddenly grabbing Hobie by the arm and practically dragging him away. He sent a smug look your way while you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Gonna take these guys to meet mom and dad. Don’t worry, we’ll be right back,” he jeered.

Hobie simply looked amused as Miles tugged him away while Pavitr perked up.

“We finally get to meet your parents? Let’s go!” He beamed. Gwen, on the other hand, couldn’t look more uncomfortable with the idea if she tried.

You vaguely remembered your mother calling you about some “white girl your brother had brought home.” Though she told you the girl’s name was “Gwanda” you were beginning to figure that wasn’t the case.

Hobie looked back at you, giving you a small wave as Miles slipped behind him, resorting to pushing the taller boy.

“Walk,” you heard him grumble. You and Hobie both laughed at his antics, but you waved back all the same, watching him disappear into the crowd of people.

By the time Hobie had managed to sneak away from everyone the sky had dimmed, turning a darker shade of blue with every passing hour. Fortunately, the party was still in high spirits.

Which gave the two of you a good enough chance to head underneath the water tower on the far side of the roof.

Miles eyed the two of you from his spot near the tables, the plate of food in his hands forgotten. Pavitr and Gwen were talking about something, but they grew quiet at the lack of Miles’ input. They followed his line of sight and Pavitr let out an amused laugh which was enough to catch Miles’ attention.

“What?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“I should’ve known. Hobie was dying to see her again,” Pav admitted as Miles let out a shocked “what?”

Gwen smacked Pav’s shoulder, but even she was grinning. “I wouldn’t stress over it, Miles. At least they look cute together,” she added, a playful lilt to her voice.

Miles shook his head, setting his plate down as he waved a hand dismissively. “Okay, not having this conversation right now. Or ever.” He huffed, already wracking his brain at the thought of Hobie dying to see you again.

You carefully twirled Hobie’s watch in your hands, rubbing your thumb alongside it. He leaned casually against the railing beside you, back against it as he looked out across the ongoing party.

“So, this watch lets you go anywhere you want? Anywhere at all?” You asked, glancing up at him. He nodded, turning his gaze towards you.

“Yeah. Also helps stop that glitching mess.” At your look of confusion he added, “It’s what happens to our bodies whenever we’re in a dimension that isn’t ours. It sucks, by the way. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

You let out an amused huff, lips parting as you mumbled a quiet “ah.” You straightened up and handed the device back to him, your fingers brushing together gently.

He strapped it to his wrist, dark eyes sliding back over to you. He looked thoughtful for a moment, before his lips turned up into a small smirk. “Lets us go anywhere at any time too.”

You smiled, mirroring his stance as you leaned against the railing as well. You had a feeling where this was going, but you just wanted to make sure. “Any time, huh? So you just come and go whenever?”

“Oh, yeah. I get to do whatever I want. Go wherever I want.” He paused before saying, “See whoever I want.

You hummed, feeling your heart stutter from the way he was looking at you. “Now that sounds nice.”

Hobie’s grin only widened as he nodded with a slight shrug. He shifted a bit closer, almost imperceptibly so. “It’s real nice. All that matters is what you do with it.”

“So…if there was someone who wanted to keep seeing you,” you leaned in a bit closer as well, an invisible force practically pulling you towards him, “You could make it happen?”

Hobie nodded, eyes and smile softening. “All they’d have to do is say the word.”

Your own smile turned sheepish as you tapped your fingers nervously against your thigh. “Well…”

You stopped once you noticed Hobie’s back straighten, a crease forming in his brow as he leaned away suddenly. Not even a second later your mom was popping into view and you groaned, already having a bad feeling.

“Hi! Just wanted to come and see how things were going. Making sure you guys are all good up here,” your mother said warmly, swinging a leg over the railing. Your father was right behind her, grunting as he pulled himself upward. Hobie moved to stand on your other side, watching the scene play out almost amusedly.

“Mrs Morales,” he said coolly. His eyes turned to your father, who raised an expectant brow at the punk beside you once their eyes met.

Hobie’s jaw clenched, as if he was having some sort of internal battle with himself. After a moment of a stare down that felt far too tense, his eyes darted over to you briefly before he looked away and muttered out, “Mr. Morales,” almost begrudgingly so.

Your father let out a humph, bumping his shoulder against your moms. “Oh, look at that, hon, he got it right this time. But yeah we, uh, noticed you guys weren’t with the group so we wanted to see what that was all about.”

You reached out and gently grabbed Hobie’s arm, trying to ignore the lithe muscle you felt under your palm. “We were just about to head back down, actually.”

“Oh good. Good,” your father nodded while your mom let out an “ah,” her eyes darting down to where your hands held onto Hobie. “Well, don’t let us hold you up. Me and your mom might be turning in soon, anyways. Got a busy day tomorrow, y’know, being a cop and all,” he stated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes while Hobie merely raised an unimpressed brow.

“Mhm. Got it,” you mumbled, already moving past him. You pretended not to see the humored look on your mother’s face as the two of you descended down from the water tower.

Once your feet touched the roof you led Hobie further into the crowd, throwing a glance behind you as you let out a sigh. Above you, you heard a low chuckle.

You couldn’t help but join him, lips parting into a grin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?”

He shrugged, eyes alight with mirth. “Little bit.” The two of you came up to the tables before stopping. You quickly remembered you were still holding to his arm and retracted your hands, settling for folding your arms over your chest.

Hobie tilted his head and eyed you as you tapped your fingers against your elbow. “I’m sorry about him. He can just be a little…overprotective. Even though I’m eighteen and, unlike Miles, actually an adult,” you muttered.

Hobie smirked and shook his head slightly. “It’s fine. It’s good they look out for you like that. But, listen, about earlier,” he paused, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. You realized it was your first time seeing him genuinely nervous, albeit just a little bit.

“It’s just…I wanna see you again. And, tell me if I got this wrong, you wanna see me again too.” At your small nod he continued. “Well, there’s a band I like playing a show soon in my dimension. Figured I could sneak us in the venue, we’d watch ‘em together? It’d be a loft view. Can’t get it nowhere else.”

You smiled, your brightest one of the night, as those butterflies in your gut came back at full force. You shrugged, pretending to consider it.

“I don’t know. A trip to a new dimension and…a date?” When Hobie matched your smile with one of his own you were sold. You had been from the beginning. “I think that sounds perfect.”

“Cool,” he uttered. “I’ll get you a day pass, you break the news to that brother of yours—”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” you groaned and he laughed, picking up a nearby drink.

“And I’ll pick you up when the time’s right,” he concluded. You dipped your head in agreement, already feeling anticipation building within you.

“I’d like that,” you affirmed softly. Hobie’s smirk disappeared behind the can as he rose it to his lips, but his eyes never left yours.

That was until Miles practically popped up between you two, his eyes bouncing back and forth. Pav and Gwen were right on his heels, seeming eager about something as they also eyed you both. He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Hey, guys. Everything okay?” He asked, trying to appear nonchalant despite his wary tone.

Hobie nodded, his gaze falling back on you. His lips curled upward and you had to bite back a grin of your own.

“Yeah. Everything’s great, bro.”

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #atsv #x reader #black fem reader #reader insert

534 notes · View notes

felinecryptid · 9 months

Text

Black Holes and Stars

or Pav really wants to kiss Hobie, dammit

as always, translations are at the end xx

also the songs are clickable (they take you to Spotify <3)

Pav was never going to order an uber again.

The first two cabs cancelled because of the new year’s rush and the third cab they ordered and had it reach them had a milkshake spill on one seat. Making the seating capacity three instead of four, for their four person group. Pav’s heart jumped into his throat as Gwen called shotgun and Miles called dibs on the seat behind Gwen. Leaving Hobie and Pav to share one seat. Where Pav was right now, sitting deathly still on Hobie’s lap, aware of every shift of fabric, every little breath fanning across the back of his neck, every little hum when at the end of his deep rebervating huffs of laughter.

Now, Pav has had prolonged contact with Hobie, but in the form of extremely complex handshakes, the occasional headlock and the most frequent of all, being thrown straight onto Hobie during fights. This was different. This was intentional and intimate. This was feeling the intoxicating heat of his body for all of the forty minutes of the ride. This was a situation where Hobie could feel the goosebumps erupt all over his skin with the brush of a finger. This was dangerous. Pav zoned back to the conversation, having lost track of it an eternity ago.

“-I’m actually offended that they’re allergic to kiwis,” Miles continued, deep into storytelling to notice Gwen's sickening smitten stare. “Like, they look like they should love kiwis, but noo, they are allergic.”

“Wha’s a kiwi, anyway?” Hobie asked, leaning towards Miles over the spilt milkshake.

Gwen turned to Hobie the same time Miles whipped around. Pav tried his best to shoot an incredulous look at Hobie without shifting his body, a task that proved to be almost impossible.

Silence blanketed them, broken by Kamariya playing on the radio and the occasional horn in the traffic.

“Hobie, have you never had a kiwi?” Gwen had almost fully turned around in her seat and Pav didn't have the heart to point out the police officer scanning the traffic.

“My world’s on the brink of total anarchical collapse, ‘aven't got a scooby ‘bout kiwis because I’ve got other things to do,” Hobie shrugged, fiddling with the window button.

“My bad, Hobie. We need to fix that immediately,” Gwen nodded.

“Wha’? My universe?”

“No, not that. Not yet, I’m talking about a kiwi.”

“Damn, an’ here I though’ you were gon’ fix me problems.”

“Your problem is a government. I can't deal with my own father, the government is a whole another cake.”

“Ye, ye’ those are the fightin’ words, Gwendy.” Hobie leaned out further yet, putting his hand on Pav’s waist, for balance-

Don't ask Pav the colour of anything, he doesn't know. He’s pretty sure his lungs are beeping the same error message as his brain.

“Eat shit, Brown.”

“Alright children, càlmate."

“Ain't you the underage un’?”

Pav was hearing words, but his remaining three brain cells were trying to process the warmth of Hobie’s hand seeping through the thin linen of his shirt, the contours of his hand perfectly fitting around Pav’s side. Waves of shivers ran down his skin like the waxing and waning shadows cast by the amber lights outside.

Pav looked at Hobie, neck straining, to see if he could see his thoughts in his eyes, and instead met his own eyes, thoughts and emotions all reflected in the kaleidoscope of Hobie’s eyes.

Pav wasn't the only one feeling the pull, right? He wasn't. He couldn't be the only one, when Hobie’s eyes grew impossibly deeper, the browns receding, like a blackhole and its glowing event horizon, and Pav had no choice but to crash. A little bit more and-

“Hey lovebirds! We’re here!” Miles called, rapping sharply on their side of the window, opening the door.

Pav reeled back, ridiculously thinking about spaghettification, because his face was on fire and his legs felt like cooked noodles.

“I’ll give ya ‘lovebirds’, you fucker-” Hobie launched himself at Miles, chasing him around, leaving Pav to pay.

“Bhaiya, zara QR code dikhana, PhonePe kar deta hun.” Pav nodded at the driver, who was distractedly chewing some gum.

The guy took out the code on his phone. “A word of advice; do something about that guy. You two were painful, literally ankhon se ek durse ke kapde utaar rahe the. Abhi I need to go, dry clean the seat where the last customer sat, and sprinkle ganga jal where you both sat. Thank you and happy new year, I hope no one else has to witness you both- doing whatever that was- I feel like I need a shot of ganga jal as well.”

Saying Pav felt mortified was a massive understatement. He wanted the earth to crack open under him and swallow him whole as he paid the money, with a generous tip.

Hobie hung back a bit away from earshot, but that still didn't stop him from bugging Pav about what took him so long. Pav valiantly did not blush more as he refused to elaborate.

***

“You have games here?” Miles’ eyes shone with excitement. “I thought we were just going to get drunk on cheap drinks and dance while other couples make out.”

“You can't technically drink yet, new guy.” Pav pointed at the thick, black ’X’ on his hand.

“I can. I did. At Hobie’s,” Miles grumbled as Hobie put an arm around him.

“Yea’, me’ mandem fucked aroun’ the nuclear subs at fourteen, you definitely could drink and smoke when you are seventeen."

“Stop that, you ass,” Miles hit Hobie upside the head, ducking out of his chokehold. “All of you are so mean to me.”

“I’m not mean to you,” Gwen poked Miles in the shoulder. “I am literally so nice to you.”

“You are the worst offender, Gwendy, you didn't let me ride shotgun.”

“Awwh, but I really wanted to.”

“I wanted to, too.”

“I could make it up to you,” Gwen leant closer to Miles, taking his hand. Pav could see the dark blush take up residence on Miles’ face. Before Pav could interrupt, Gwen was pulling him away, into the crowd with a shout of ‘see ya’ around!’

“We should get us a drink.” Hobie’s breath tickled the shell of Pav’s ear, and he couldn't have stopped the shivers if he had wanted to.

“We can't, Maya Auntie would hit me with the jhaadu if she sniffs out anything suspicious on me.”

“Does tha’ mean I shouldn' drink either?”

“Why wouldn't you? I want you to have a good time.”

“‘know plenty ways to ‘ave a good time that don't include no tumblin’ down the sink.” Pav could hear the smirk in his voice. He didn't know what he could do other than melt into a puddle on the floor. Still, he shot him a mock glare.

“Smooth like sandpaper, bada aaya Romeo,” Pav managed, and for a second he believed in his own bravado. “How about I show you some tumbling?” Pav hooked his finger in Hobie’s collar, pulling him down, down, down, till their faces were level. Pav could feel himself getting lost in the deep black of Hobie's eyes. “Kya bolti tu?” Pav murmured, voice breathless and husky.

Pav could see the exact moment when Hobie’s self restraint shattered. The irises of Hobie's eyes were swallowed up by the gravitational pull of the black of his eyes, and Pav couldn't wait to be swallowed up too.

He leans in closer, anticipating, hoping-

Someone- Someones- collided with them, bringing all of them down. For the second time that day, Pav found himself very acquainted with Hobie's body.

He feels Hobie’s arms holding him, a futile attempt to protect him from the floor, considering he's currently flat against the same, breath knocked out of him yet again, this time for multiple reasons.

“Oh we're so sorry! So, so, sorry- Just, I was looking for my friend and Saswat here was annoying me an’ I wasn't watching where I was goin’-” The person rambled on at a frankly terrifying speed as they got up. Hobie huffed as helped Pav up, “It’s alri’e, jus’ watch where you goin.”

“We’re so sorry, let us buy you something as an apology,” The person gushed, and then hit the guy- Saswat- in the stomach, urgently whispering that sounded a whole lot like ‘kuchh bolna, gadhe’.

“It's alright, really,” Pav conceded, sensing another word vomit if he didn't stop the train wreck of a conversation that was happening. “We should get going, do our own thing, you know-”

“You should join us for a game of spin the bottle,” Saswat winked. Pav wasn't sure what that meant. “We can buy you a drink then. Come with us,” Saswat swung his arm over Pav’s shoulders, walking him straight into a circle with about 5 people in various degrees of inebriation in a loose circle, sprawled over bean bags, and love seats. Pav thought one of them looked familiar. Like really familiar.

“Meet our new friends!” Saswat announced. This is- uh- what's your names?” He hissed urgently in his ear.

“I'm Pavitr, and that's Hobie-”

“Right, yeah, this is Pavitr and that's Hobby,” Saswat declared, gesturing grandly, plopping onto the only empty barstool. Pav and Hobie squished themselves into a wide-ish armchair. At least it was a step up from still on Hobie’s lap, Pav thought wildly, thighs pressed against each other.

“Not again,” The other person groaned, sitting down next to a girl with long greyish dyed hair. “I can't do this again.” They muttered and Pav got the feeling that he wasn't supposed to hear it.

“Saswat, you whore,” The familiar looking person reached over, tugging on his ear.

“Shut up Achari, maine toh kuch kiya bhi nahi hai,” Saswat slapped the person’s hand away.

“You are thinking it, you don’t even have to do something,” Achari replied. “Also I feel like I know the short guy.”

“Hey, watch who you're calling short!”

“But you are! You are practically matchbox sized, you could fit in an ikea bag, or a suitcase!”

“Alright, Athanni stop antagonising Pavitr, we're here to make new friends. Right, Annz?” The silver haired girl turned to the person who caused the collision, who turned an interesting shade of red, muttering ‘yep, ‘spin the bottle’ ek doston waala game hai, definitely’ under their breath. Pav had no idea if the silver haired girl didn't hear that or pretended not to because she went on.

“Here are the rules: spinner kisses whoever the bottle lands on and because we are not big fans of forcing someone to kiss, you can skip kissing and instead take a big sip of your drink,” The silver haired girl- Pav can't just keep calling here that in his mind- said. Annz side eyed the girl.

“Tammy, you know I don't have a drink, and neither do the new kids.”

“Then you'll just have to kiss me,” The girl- her name being Tammy, apparently- responded with a cheeky grin.

“Stop it, I can't breathe with all the UST you guys have, ugh,” Athanni drained the last of their drink in one big gulp, slamming down the bottle in the middle. “Let's get this ball rollin'!”

They spin the bottle.

Pav wondered why he and Hobie were still there, playing a kissing game with strangers, as he watched the bottle spin around, practically blurring.

They could just leave, right? Pav glanced at Hobie, and they met eyes. Pav froze. Hobie’s eyes had never looked so dark as they did now. “Wish we were alone now.” He whispered, only for Hobie, because he did. He only wished they were alone, maybe in this room, maybe in the whole world. Or maybe Pav wanted everyone to just look away and not pay attention, because the only attention he wanted was Hobie’s.

They hadn't broken eye contact for a moment. Pav could see a familiar emotion on Hobie's face, an emotion that made Pav’s stomach swoop with elation, the same emotion that made him want to giggle wildly when Hobie was too close, the same emotion that rose in his chest and up his throat when they were close enough, close enough to-

‘Your turn, short boy,” Athanni’s voice pulled him back to his frustrating reality.

“What?” Pav asked, trying to keep the irritation out his voice.

“Spin the bottle. You know, the game,” Athanni smiled, faux innocence dripping off their face.

“Y- yeah, the game, right. Uh-” Pav reached over and gave the bottle a weak nudge. It leisurely turned around three times.

Before coming to a stop at Hobie.

Pav could have kissed Athanni or even the bottle but he didn't, because he was going to kiss Ho-

“There you are Pav, I've been looking all over for you!”

If Miles was spiderman, he surely could survive a fall from the top of the Qutub minar, right? Pav turned to look at Miles, fighting his way out of a rather thick crowd of people, hand clasped tightly with Gwen's, who appeared to be expertly nursing a drink within the crush of the crowd.

“Gwen convinced the DJ to play some english songs, come join us for a dance!” Miles said, smiling ear to ear and Pav could not stay angry.

He got up, nodding at the group of strangers. “This game was fun, thanks, but now we must go.” Hobie didn't even wait till Pav was done to start tugging him away into the crowds. Pav heard a chorus of ‘byes’ and maybe a ‘go get it dude!’ as he let himself be dragged away.

***

“I believe you owe me a dance, chodu,” Pav smiled, pushing Hobie over to the masses, where people were swaying to Radha.

“If ya think you can keep up, you're sorely mistaken, me raspberry tart,” Hobie said, leaning on the wall, stretching his arms above languidly and it was all Pav could do to not jump him right there. “You like to dance close?” Hobie asked, resting those arms on Pav’s shoulders like a middle school dance, “Or closer?” He slid his hands down to his waist, pulling him in, and how could Pav breath with them pressed together like that?

In the dim lights and thundering beats of the dance floor, a voice broke through. "Pav! C’n you te’ me where the res’room is- I really need th’ pee." Gwen appeared, giggling and speech slurring, and Pav wished that homicide was legal, not for the first time, not during this night, not in his life. Hobie leaned away, and Pav lamented not cherishing their proximity more.

He didn't think he hated Gwen, but at the moment Gwen was being particularly annoying, of course not intentionally. Or at least Pav didn't think it was intentional, because who would want to interrupt two people desperately trying to have a moment together, that's just weird.

“Hey-uh! Gwen!” Pav smiled, probably way too brightly considering his circumstances. “The restroom is on the other side of the club- uh, where’s Miles? Did he leave you alone?” Pav frowned. Miles was supposed to stay with Gwen. Unaccompanied minors and Gwen’s state aside, they were using the buddy system to not lose track of each other in the crowd. They were being responsible, but not anymore, apparently.

He was realising it would have been better to just stay back in his room with Hobie, because at least no one would fucking pop in with useless fucking questions when Hobie’s hands were ghosting his waist, with his breath on his lips-

Pav shook himself out of his funk. “C’mon Gwanda, We’d better go find Miles before he makes another eldritch entity sulk.”

Pav definitely did not think Hobie’s guffaws lacked a little sanity, nuh-uh.

They wove through the crowd, somehow managing to keep track of Gwen, who wandered off like a kid in the metaphorical candy shop too many times to count. Pav secretly relished Hobie's hand in his, a leftover from their position of moments prior.

The warmth of Hobie’s hand was different than the pressing heat of the bodies around them, more comforting and somehow, more exciting at the same time. Hobie was rubbing little circles on his knuckles and Pav could swear he felt sparks.

They can get through this. If nothing else, Hobie was going to sleep over at his, he was going to have this, nothing could stop him from doing this.

“Pav! Pavitr! Hobie! It’s time for countdown!” Miles called from the little balcony jutting out, overlooking the gigantic Christmas tree in the square. A large billboard counted down in big red numbers, 17 morphing into 16.

Gwen all but collapsed on Miles, who caught her easily, keeping her upright. Pav breathed a sigh of relief.

A breath that got caught in his throat. Because Hobie was looking at him like he wanted to eat Pav alive.

Everything stilled to a stop as Hobie spun him around, holding their hands between them. Pav could hear the dull chanting of ‘ten, nine, eight-’ as he stepped closer. A light chilly breeze blew, whispering through among them, carrying the sweet smell of cheap cherries, a cologne Pav had given Hobie months ago, and a familiar musky smell underneath it all.

A bead of sweat rolled down Hobie’s neck. Pav's eyes were glued onto it, following the paths it took over the contours of his neck and Pav wanted to taste it, to be it.

Five.

Hobie moved one hand to Pav’s waist, caressing his sides and his arm, coming to rest on his cheek. Pav let out a shaky breath.

Four.

Pav moved closer, their bodies brushing, separated by their clasped hands. Pav let go, pulling Hobie in by his neck. Their faces were a breath apart and-

Three.

-his saccharine warmth enveloped Pav in a sweet kiss. Pav’s breath stuttered again as his heart kicked into overdrive. Pav started to return the press, and Hobie pulled away. Pav whined, following.

Two.

“Sorr-”

One.

“Sorry mat bol, kasam se- idhar aa-” Pav pulled Hobie into an open mouthed kiss, as the fireworks went up, lighting up the skies in brilliant gold and silver. Pav’s insides felt like fireworks too, all warm and restless, He wanted to touch, he wanted to feel Hobie all over, his hair, his face, his strong shoulders, his wiry arms, his-

Pav pulled him closer, stepping back closer to the wall-

-Only to find himself hanging over thin air, over the railings of the balcony, over the deafening crowd in the Mumbattan square, supported only by the arms of one Hobie Brown. Pav shivered, the metal railing cold against the small of his back. But Hobie was warm. Pav couldn't resist snuggling closer, burying his hands in Hobie's hair, while Hobie’s mouth did wonderful things down his throat and on his collarbones.

Hobie pushed him further yet, shifting their gravity, dipping him over the railing so he was supporting the both of them from a high drop, and Pav let him, losing himself in his ministrations. If Pav was going to fall, Hobie's arms would only catch him.

He couldn't wait to take an uber back home.

___

Translations:

scooby - clue

Càlmate - calm down

Bhaiya, zara QR code dikhana, PhonePe kar deta hun - brother, show me the QR code, I'll phonepe you (phonepe is like cashapp, or apple pay or google pay, you get the gist)

ankhon se ek durse ke kapde utaar rahe the - undressing eachother with your eyes

abhi - now

ganga jal - hindu equivalent of holy water (water for the holy river ganga)

mandem - friend group (i think? i might be wrong but im too sleepy to check rn)

nuclear subs - pubs

ankhon se ek durse ke kapde utaar rahe the - you were literally undressing each other with your eyes

jhaadu - broom

tumbling down a sink (?) - a drink

bada aya romeo - you think youre a player (romeo)? (also desi pop culture yk)

kya bolti tu? - watcha say? (not 'what do you say', important distinction, bc that sentence hella informal and so casual, it also a old bollywood movie ref)

kuchh bolna, gadhe - say something, asshole

maine toh kuch kiya bhi nahi hai - i haven't even done anything

ek doston waala game hai - sure is a friends typa game

Qutub minar - A tall historical tower in India in delhi (? im too sleepy for this, im like 60% sure its in delhi)

chodu - fucker

raspberry tart - sweetheart

Sorry mat bol, kasam se- idhar aa- - don't apologise, i swear to- come here-

istg i gave myself carpal tunnel with them, they just kept missing the kiss on and on

they might be kinda ooc but lets be real we're all here to read them kiss a million times

there are some inside jokes and some oc interactions you might not get but ykw life is short fuck it

a million thanks to goldenpunk artists server for this opportunity and another million thanks to the people in there, so amazing and encouraging

this is for you sera, ghost and starr, yall really made me post this on time (technically its not 2nd jan everywhere yet, stfu)

also idont think im a 100 percent coherent rn, so lemme know if i missed something and thanks for reading, have an amazing day

(and if you got the time pls comment makes me more motivated to write than a national award fr)

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