69 For 28 || l.s

35

Two weeks until Christmas eve. A bleary bleak Sunday morning dawns, the wind hollows the sails with it's blows. The horses lay on deck, both asleep.

A bateful fog surrounds the endless ocean. Not one sun ray to see. Just a few snowflakes falling down on the boat. It's intriguing how the tremendous ship makes it's way through the waves.

The little cabin window is slightly ajar, a cold wind floats over Harrys arm. He grumbles, and tugs the blanket over himself.

They're on this boat for almost two/three weeks now, Liam and him had agreed to quit the blowjobs, since none of the two had actual feelings for the other.

Last night was their agreed last time. Harry wipes the cum from his bottom lip, snuggling his head in the soft sheets. He's devoted to sleeping. The heated sheets protecting him from the cruel icy weather enraging outside.

The mattress dips down beside him. He opens one eye and catches sight of Louis, who shoots him an apologetic look.

"You haven't slept?" His rough morning voice disturbs the quiet atmosphere, in the old cabin.

"No, haven't." Louis says. He's laying on his side, back turned towards Harry.

"Hey, you'll get cold." Softly he places the blanket over Louis figure. And got up himself, to get some warm tea.

He figured, he'd meet Liam on his way to get breakfast.
A good chat wouldn't harm his grumpy mood.

-

As predicted Liam's there, sat on the kitchen counter, knotting.

Yesterday they found rope, a shit lit of rope, in the bottom of the ship.
Since they all felt bored to death and inattentive, were these ropes perfect to distract them.
Besides sailing, there wasn't much to do the whole day. Sure, they had two horses and a pack of cards, but that isn't an entertainment one can do for two weeks.

Harry shoots him a half hearted smile, and starts making tea.

"Milk?" He turns, Liam nods, and goes over to lay his head on Harrys shoulder.

"This is so boring." Complains spilled out of his mouth for a good half hour. Harry makes him feel the most comfortable. He's calm, funny and mature at points. Liam enjoys the chats they're having because of his ability to truly say what he thinks.

"I don't like Christmas." Harry states, and continues styling his hair, using the small window as mirror.

"How come? It's the best holiday."

"If you're home and not bloody stressed."

"Sure. You should go with Louis then, he hates Christmas as well."

"He was up the whole night." Harry took another sip, worry written by the crinkle of his eyes.

Liam laughs. "He's always. Once, I saw Niall and him around midnight smoking on a train."

"And you didn't arrest them?"

"I'm not the best cop." Liam shrugged, a laugh escaping his throat.

"Don't put yourself down love."

It clicks, their third tea is ready. A plaid shirt serves them as tablecloth. Two mugs of warm tea stand on the table, beside two plates with steamy hot soup.
The lamp above them swings from side to side as the both moves.

Comfortable silence falls over the two men. Until Liam starts to continue chat with Harry about the previous nights.

-