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thedo0zyslider · 8 months

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Found Ashore - 4k Words

Oli washes up on some random beach shore. One could say it changes his life for the better, or that it's more trouble than it's worth. He doesn't know and really doesn't want to find out.

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Oli wakes up, face down in what seems to be sand, and feels absolutely wrecked . There is also something pinching at his side, which makes the whole experience a lot more unpleasant than it normally would’ve been, he thinks.

He rolls over with a huff, already cringing at the thought of getting the sand off him. It’s going to be stuck in his hair for days! Days ! Why couldn’t he have washed up on some rocks or something? That sounded much better than bloody sand!

When Oli moves, he finds that the thing pinching him was a crab, one that seemed very fixated on ripping even more holes in his clothes (he can already feel the tear in the back of his jacket without even looking, god dammit.) He glared at the little curstation, and got another, more powerful and painful pinch to his hand when he tried to shoo it away. The blonde made a small yelp of pain, and sat up so he could soot away from the damned thing. The crab skitters after him.

There is a voice coming from further inland, one that's steadily approaching. He assumes it’s the voice of a person, and not some stupid creature from all those sea shanties he’d heard the sailors sing about, and fumbles to find his monocle. Oli knows it’s somewhere in his pocket by some miracle, having felt it moving about when he rolled over, but cannot find the thing in his disorientation.

The stranger reaches him right as he grasps it, and a seemingly kind face is now in front of his own. “Did you just wash ashore?” The man asks, his face blocking the sun out of Oli’s eyes. He stumbles to get his monocle on, and just nods in response.

“Oh dear! Let me help you then!” The stranger grabs ahold of him, Oli not processing where, and moves him until he’s standing and leaning leaning on this very muscular stranger to do so. He blinks a couple of times, fairly certain there is sand in his eyes by the way they’re starting to water. Being washed up on a beach sucks, by the way, and he’s going to advise everyone he meets after this to never try it out. No matter how fun it looks.

While Oli was blinking sand out of his eyes and thinking about his new and sudden hatred for beaches, the strange man had started babbling. “Are you okay? Do you need food, water? Oh, are you injur-”

“What I need.” Oli cut the brunette off, noticing that they were beginning to walk, presumably towards a building of some kind. “Is for you to stop rambling on.”

“Sorry.” The stranger muttered. “My name’s Sausage, by the way.”

“Sausage? Like the meat?” Oli said, rolling the word around on his tongue as he did so. “What kinda bloody name is Sausage? ”

“A very good and respectable name, that’s what!” The stranger-- Sausage --exclaimed, maybe a little indignantly. “What’s your name anyways? If mine is so weird!?”

“Oliver. But most people call me Oli” The blonde said, accentuating the last syllable or so. Sausage scrunched up his nose at how normal and un-weird it was, and muttered something about stupid people and their stupid “normal” names.

“There’s a crab following you around by the way!.” Sausage was the next of them to speak, changing the topic away from his supposedly weird and uncommon name. The blonde had just met this man, but he managed to make every word that came out of his mouth cheerful. Maybe too cheerful, even.

“I know.” Oli huffed, glaring down at the aforementioned crab. “It’s called crub.”

“Crub? Is it a pet?” Sausage asks, curiosity peaking into his tone. He smiles at the crab, and the blonde wants to gag just a little. He doesn’t know how anyone could smile at the damned thing, the damned pinching nuisance!

“‘S my wife.” He muttered quietly in response, fully meaning to call it a pest instead of his bloody wife . Now to Oli’s credit, he was a bit disoriented from being thrown around by the waves for god knows how long, and also being washed up on shore. He was also remembering he had a wife right at that moment, a wife and a son he had decidedly not even thinking about before he went overboard. The wife that was going to tear him to shreds when (if) he got home.

Sausage however, did not know any of that, and just blinked at the blonde in what could be called perplexity. “The crab…the crab is your wife?”

“Yes…I mean no! No!” Oli protested, a groan slipping past his lips. He did not have the energy for this, he’d just been bloody washed up on a beach after all. “Ugh, just get me to a bed will you!?”

“He wants me in bed already, how charming.” The other man murmured, and in his dazed state Oli had to do a double take. A triple take even, before those words even somewhat processed in his brain.

“ What. ”

“Nothing, let’s get you some rest now!’ Sausage smiled, and basically started to usher him along. Oli almost loses his balance, and holds onto this weird man’s arm tighter. They reach a house of some kind within ten minutes, and next thing the blonde knows he’s practically falling into a random bed he’s shown to. Apparently almost dying at sea makes your body pretty exhausted.

He hears Sausage doing something in his room, and the room over as well. But Oli can’t discern exactly what he’s doing, nor does he care too. Mainly because his thoughts are already starting to slip away, eyes heavy with sleep as it quickly claims him.

_______________________________

Oli wakes up the next morning (at least he thinks it’s the next morning anyways, for all he knows it's been anywhere from three days to a bloody month ,) and is absolutely starving. And dehydrated he thinks. He wouldn't know for sure though, he’s never been bloody dehydrated before. Because that would be a stupid thing to do, get dehydrated.

Sitting up doesn’t go well when Oli tries it, as he immediately gets lightheaded. He lets out a groan, and immediately flops back down. No more sitting up, at all, at least for a few minutes anyways. He turns over, and buries his face in the plump pillow beneath him. And he does this till he hears the telltale creak of a door opening, and what he presumes is Sausage walking in. Well he hopes it’s Sausage, and not any other weird, meat named person that lives there.

“Oh!” That cheerful voice fills the room again, and Oli is confident he guessed the right meat named person was walking in. “You’re awake!”

“How long was I out for?” He asks, though it’s muffled around the pillow he’s buried himself in. Sausage manages to hear it anyways, somehow.

“A day and a half I think.” The man tells him, if a little uncertain. Oli makes another muffled sound, and rolls over so his face isn’t buried in the bed anymore. “How’re you feeling?”

“Light headed.” Oliver groans.

“Well it’s a good thing I brought you some breakfast!” The blonde jumps upright at that, which was a horrible idea for his head. Sausage lets out a giggle, and sets down a plate on the sheets next to him. He’d been here for two days and was already being treated to breakfast and bed, how nice.

He tries not to eat it too ravenously, but Sausage doesn’t seem to mind it. There is water placed on the nightstand next to him as well, water that he almost entirely forgets to drink. Sausage doesn’t stare as he eats, just starts asking questions.

“How’d you end up on the beach?” The brunette leans against the wall comfortable, his gaze full of curiosity and probably a million more questions.

“Can’t remember.” Oli says, swallowing some of the fruit that had been on the plate. It’s an honest answer really. He vaguely remembers falling off his boat, the fishing boat he’d been using, but that seemed like a rather obvious conclusion. There was probably a storm or something that caused him to fall. Not a thrasher, thankfully, because he was still very much alive and not in the belly of a big fish. Though he’s not really sure how he’s alive in the first place to be exact, but Oliver will never complain about not being dead. No one would really.

Sausage hums in response, and asks more questions about where he came from, his home, his life, family, the like. Oli says he has a wife, a son, and used to sell salmon. Sausage cuts him off before he can finish that though.

“You said the crab was your wife.” Sausage says it so casually, Oli has to pause on his breakfast to keep from choking.

“I said what!? ” He almost yells it out, and Sausage burst into a small fit of giggles

“The crab that was next to you! It’s downstairs now, and you said it was your wife!” He exclaimed, and Oli hated the fact he’d brought that bloody little pest inside! Inside the hours he was resting in! To put even more holes in his poor clothes!

“I was delirious, Sausage!” Unfortunately, the blonde’s protest was in vain, and always would be. He’d said the crab was his wife, and that was that it seemed.

“You still said the crab was your wife!” Sausage sing-songed, and Oli held back a groan. He’d dealt with enough people in his old line of work to know that Sausage was never letting go of this, and would be using it to tease him until they stopped knowing each other. Which would be sooner rather than later, hopefully, once he found out where he actually was.

“Where am I, exactly? You never really told me that.”

“Oh! You’re on the faction isles!” Sausage told him cheerfully, like that was a normal thing to say about a supposed set of islands.

“The what? ” Oli asks, the name somewhat ringing the bell. It's in the very back of his head though, a weird name he’d heard once and barely scared to commit to memory. Maybe something he’d heard in whispers and rumors over the years.

“The Faction Isles!” Sausage begins his little explanation with far too much cheer, in Oliver’s humble opinion. “There’s four factions that live here, the Kestrels, Herons, Nightingales, and Kites! I’m a Kestrel though, all the other ones are lame.

“The Kestrels like money and riches, the Nightingales are all about family, Herons like makin’ a dumb legacy, and the Kites like killing things!” Sausage made little faces and sound effects as he described each group, which gave Oli a pretty good idea of the man's opinion on each Faction, and was glad they seemed to be in line with his initial ones.

“Well that sounds like something I don’t want to be a part of.” Oli mused, and had that want shattered a second after. Courtesy of Sausage

“Too bad! As the leader of the Kestrels I already decided you are one!” Sausage smiled that bright smile he always seemed to have, and Oli really wanted to hit the guy over the head. Even if he was beefy as hell and could fold the blonde like a twig.

“Without asking me!?” Oliver exclaimed, dismayed.

“Yep!” The Kestrel smiled again, and Oli just groaned around the toast he’d been brought.

“And you? You’re the leader?” He asks, honestly not believing a doof like this guy could be a leader for a second. Just, look at him really. He looked like more of a troublemaker, or a handsome person who’d swindle you on the street with his dashingly good looks and piercing blue eyes more than he looked like any sort of leader. “In a way, yes! Abd as your leader I order you to rest some more, okay?” Sausage does not stay after that, because he presumably has to go do more leadership like things. Oli stares after him, food and water half finished, a little dumbfounded.

But after a few hours he does do what he is told, because he is still recovering, and rest sounded mighty nice right about then. A few more hours of sleep never hurt anyone, and especially not him.

Oli end up staying in bed recovering for about a week, and Sausage barely leaves his side the whole time, when he’s not busy pirating that is. Mainly because Sausage has never found a person washed ashore before, and has no idea how to properly treat it. He says a week of bedrest wouldn’t hurt, as a just in case, and Oli isn’t really complaining about getting to simply lay around all day.

He meets the other two Kestrels, Guqqie, another weird name, and Kyle, the only person with a normal name around here. The two of them are fine, suitable company for now at least. There will be a few more Kestrels recruited on Fractioning Day apparently, and Oli plans to get the hell out of dodge before then, especially before he has to meet any pirates from any other stupid faction.

He does not, in fact, get the hell out of dodge. The next day is when Oliver decides to stay a little longer, once he realizes he can get rich quick, have some adventure away from the wife, and then leave with god knows how much gold in his pockets. The plan might have a few hiccups along the way, but it should work, for the most part, if he decides to follow it all the way through and return to being in the fishing industry, that is.

Whatever happens, the next few months promise to be very interesting regardless.

_______________________________

Over the next few weeks of Oli’s stay on the Faction Isles, he and Sausage grow rather close. The other Kestrels would say maybe too close, but neither of them seem to care.

Kyle and Guqqie are great, really, they are, but Oli just finds himself drawn to Sausage naturally. Not that he can explain why, he just is, and it feels somewhat right, and he isn’t a man who questions things like that. They seem to be together at every moment, doing nothing in the base together, getting drunk at the tavern together almost every night, adventuring together. Kyle even jokes that they’re acting like a lovestruck couple.

Oli has to wonder why that makes his heart flutter so much.

He finds out soon enough though, a few days later. When Sausage seems to flirt with him. It’s a little thing really, nothing like anything the brunette ever said to Alison, but it’s enough to thoroughly fluster the blonde and maybe render him a bit speechless. Not that Oli would ever be so taken off guard, that's why he was maybe speechless instead of definitely.

Oli doesn’t even remember what the damned conversation had been about really, the one they’d been having when it happened, just that it had allowed Sausage to make some sort of unholy comment. Which isn’t a very hard thing to allow and something he can do with practically any conversation.

He remembers they were the only ones home though, which was a good thing in the end it seemed.

The two of them were in the Kestrel base, at the bar. Oli was behind the counter, rummaging around for what might be left of the good stuff, because stupid Kyle had to go and bloody drink about ninety percent of it. Safe to say, the blonde was not very pleased with that, he wanted to get piss drunk right then and now, not five minutes later. Sausage had said he's just picky with his alcohol, and that he’ll get drunk off anything and it doesn't have to be the good stuff. Oli had insisted that they could only have the best drinks out there and nothing less of it.

Sausage is sitting at a bar stool, babbling on like he normally did. It was endearing really, how much stuff he could just talk about, all off the top of his head. But anyways, the conversation they were having, whatever it was, got derailed like it always did into something weirder.

Oli makes some kind of snide remark, brings up the wife again he thinks. Sausage mutters about how for a married man, Oli seemed rather eager to get all up close and personal with him.

“You’re not any better,” The blonde huffs, closing another empty cabinet and going to open the next. Oli also cursed out a certain faction mate under his breath, muttering about where the fuck he’d hid the last of the strong stuff. “Flirting with everyone you come across like that.” He was going to throw all the weak alcohol Kyle had graciously left them at his head next time he saw that man, maybe spill it on his nice adventuring clothes as well. Leaving the rest of the faction the worst beers, really, this wouldn’t get even a Nightingale properly wasted, much less the heavyweight sitting behind him, no matter what Sausage claimed about his drinking abilities.

“Yeah but you only flirt with me! ” Sausage points out, and Oli’s cheeks do not turn a light shade of pink. No never, not in a million years. “And you sound like you mean it too!” Oli makes no comment, just shoves another almost empty bottle of liquor to the side. He’d had to crouch down for his search a while ago, and is glad, because now his friend can’t see the blush spreading across his face, or how he’s starting to get flustered and almost dropping glass bottles onto the floor beside him.

Sausage keeps talking, so much so that even if the blonde wanted to interject, he wouldn’t be able to. “Besides all the flirting with Alison and stuff? Doesn’t really mean anything.”

“Does it now?” Oli asks, eyes lighting up. He might’ve found what he was looking for, after gods knows how long. He’d also possibly found Kyle’s little hiding spot, so this might be a double victory.

“Nah, it’s all just for one night stands and stuff.” Even when Oli’s not looking, he can tell what kind of hand gesture Sausage had just done.

The next thing the brunette says is quiet, almost whispered. In hindsight, Oli doesn’t think he was meant to hear it, or that Sausage thought he even could. “Never worked with you anyways….not that I wanted just a one night thing…..” The blonde doesn’t hear the last part, mainly because he hears the first part, and ends up slamming the cabinet closed harder than he originally was going too.

He stands quickly, two bottles of the good stuff clutched in his hands, and stares at Sausage; face red all the up to the tips of his ears. He watches, in real time, as a metaphorical light bulb appears above Sausage’s head, the other Kestrel processing that Oli had heard what he’d just whispered to himself. And if he didn’t want it to be heard, the blonde doesn't have the slightest clue why he would even say that in the first place.

“You…you what!? ” He exclaims, and somehow, the alcohol he’d spent twenty minutes looking for gets thrown across the room and hits the opposite wall. He hadn’t meant to almost hit Sausage with a bottle, presumably doing so in shock, but now he almost had, and there was shattered glass right in front of the door. Lovely.

(In the back of his mind, he hopes Kyle steps in it, just a little bit.)

“Oli!” Sausage yells, having scooted back a little when the bottle was thrown. The other one is set on the counter for good measure. “What the hell was that for! Why’d you throw a bottle at me!?”

“Sorry, sorry! I just, um, ah….didn’t mean to do that, er..” He stammers, and his face goes at least fifty different shades of red.

“Are you blushing!?” Sausage almost yells it out, eyes studying his face carefully. Which makes Oli blush more, goddammit. This night was not going how he wanted it, especially because he has absolutely no interest in getting wasted at all anymore.

“No, yes! Maybe!” He blurts it out, because it’s the only thing that will come to the blonde’s mind right now. He wishes he hadn’t as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

“You’re blushing!” Sausage repeats, a little giddy, like he can’t believe he just got Oliver to blush, like he hadn’t done so a million times before.

“Well why wouldn't I be!? You just tried to bloody proposition me!” Oli yells out, and its those few words that send the rest of the night spiraling into a wildly different direction.

“I didn’t try to do that-!” Sausage’s protest is cut off by what Oli yells out next, the worst thing he’s said all night. The worst thing he’s said by far, something else he wishes he’d never ever said as soon as it leaves him.

“If you wanted me in your bed so bad you could've just said so!”

It’s quiet for a good second, a beautiful second, before one of them has to speak and ruin it. “You’d…you’d have said yes..?” The way Sausage says it, it’s like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Oli can’t believe it either, really, his head starting to spin with something,

“I…yeah, I would’ve..” He says, taking an unconscious step back. His backside hits whatever is behind the bar counter, a keg maybe, and Oli can’t even be bothered by it.

“Would you have said yes to more…or just..?”

“Yeah, yeah, I…Sorry I-I need a minute.” He struggles his way through the admission, and the rest of the sentence, and

“Oli, Oli wait!” Sausage’s calls after him end up being in vain.

Oli doesn’t wait for even a single second, he’s up the stairs before Sausage finishes speaking. He’s running from this, that’s what he’s doing. Running from his feelings. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but it feels worse this time. Everything feels worse this time.

Whatever he’s feeling right now for Sausage feels wrong, but also right. He wants him, loves him even. He has a wife at home, a son, a wife and son he’s trying to get back too. He can’t have him. Part of him doesn’t want to.

He stands in his room not even a minute later, running a hand over his still burning face, hiding like he was a little kid again.

The door makes a creak as it opens, like it always does. Sausage does not want to run away from this. Oli wishes he did. He hadn’t even heard him coming up the stairs, goddammit.

“Finally got you in my bedroom, eh?” The blonde mutters, not turning around to face the other. Sausage moves towards him.

“Oli…” That voice, the one that is normally so light and cheerful, now has an air of somberness to it. Oliver’s heart breaks a bit, with the knowledge that he did that, that that was his fault. Sausage grabs ahold of his arm gently, and Oli half expects himself to tense at it. Instead, he leans into it like a man starving for affection. Like Sausage doesn’t give him all the attention at any chance they get.

“Sorry, sorry..” Sausage mutters something about stopping with the apologies. Oli shuts his mouth and stops saying sorry.

“Hey, look at me…please?” Sausage’s voice is soft, and Oli does what he says without any protest. When he turns to face his fellow Kestrels, a warm hand comes to cup his cheek. He leans into that touch as well, placing his own hand over the brunette. It feels lovely to be held like this. It shouldn't.

“I wasn’t typing to proposition you back there. You weren’t supposed to hear that.” Sausage explains, Oli just huffs again.

“Figured.”

Sausage lets go of his face, and moves away, closer to the door. “I wanted a bit more than that, but it;' fine if you don’t.” He mutters. Oli stops him before the other man can get much further, reaching out to grab him.

He holds Sausage’s face in his hands gently, one could even say lovingly. The other Kestrel leans into it almost instantly.

“What happened to you having a wife?” Sausage muttered, maybe a little surprised by the slight turn of events. Oli kept leaning in until their noses bumped and their lips were only centimeters apart. It feels wrong, it feels right too, and the blonde almost doesn’t care anymore. He needs this man, needs him like he needs air.

“Doesn’t matter now.” Oli huffed, fully aware he doesn't have that many qualms on being disloyal to his marriage. That either says a lot about what kinda marriage it is, or what kind of man he is. For his own comfort, Oli likes to think it’s the former.

“I still think your wife’s that crab~” Sausage teased, and Oli bit back a slightly exasperated groan at his friend's words. That was still the worst bit the brunette had ever come up with, and he’d made a lot of bad bits in their short time together. “Shut up so I can kiss you!” He exclaims, pouting slightly.

Sausage shuts up a minute later. Oli connects their lips right as he does so.

The kiss is a sweet, pleasant thing, one that makes his lips tingle with something nice. He feels the way Sausage’s breath hitches, the way his hands go to rest on the blonde’s waist. It feels nice, all of it does really. Sausage kisses him back after a minute, a surprisingly hesitant thing for such a normally confident man. But Oli won’t complain, not when it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy all around.

Hands roam across his lower torso after a few tender seconds together, slipping under his shirt momentarily, because Sausage is physically incapable of ever being subtle about anything he wants. He’s exhausting, that man is, with all the teasing and the dirty jokes and words that should never come out of anyone's mouth. But Oli doesn’t mind one bit.

It goes no further than that, nothing more than a kiss and a few teasing touches. He's glad, secretly, because he doesn't think he could handle doing much else today. They pull away slowly, Oli staring back into pretty blue eyes as they catch their breaths; puffs of it falling on his face gently. The blonde smiles, bumps their foreheads together, and moves back a bit, mostly because Sausage looks pleasantly dazed by the whole thing.

After a minute, long after Oli had come back to his senses and was missing the other’s constant attention, Sausage speaks. “That was…amazing!” His voice is soft enough to melt even the toughest of people, and Oli isn’t surprised when part of him swoons at it. Only part of him though, the rest of his being is demanding some kind of affection after all that fanfare. You can’t just have a first kiss with a man then move on with your day after all, that’s far too boring by both of their standards.

Oli rolls his eyes with a fond, yet slightly indignant snort. “Yeah that was great ‘n all, now get down here and cuddle me!” He demanded, squishing Sausage’s cheeks in his hands.

“Alright, alright!” The other Kestrel chuckles, letting him be dragged into the bed ( their bed , Oli’s head tells him.) Strong arms wrap around his midsection, and Oli buries his head against Sausage’s frame, feeling much better than he had for a good while, since he washed up on shore definitely, and maybe even before that.

Tender kisses are pressed to his hair, sweet whispers exchanged between the both of them, and it is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that Oli feels content in this man’s arms.

“I love you.” Sausage mutters into his hair, then presses another kiss into it. Oli does not respond, just snuggles against him closer, and hopes the wife won’t be too cross when he returns home.

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