Captain

Heaven Said Sign Up (Knox)

The hangover was killing him. He didn't even know what else he was feeling, but the throbbing pain slamming against his cranium. The crew were lined up on the hull of the ship and the clock had struck 6 a.m. thirty minutes ago. The blue waves were swaying the ship at a rocky pace making him entirely too nauseous. He had to grimace to keep the bile down.

Routine morning calls always sucked ass. He would tell anyone who would listen that the choice he made to become a marine had been his fucking worse.

Knox could feel his shoulders aching from the rocky night of being slapped, dragged and pushed. Men really played rough. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Aaron was on his left and Oscar was on his right. They stood at attention in a perfect stance but they kept glancing at each other. It irked him because he knew exactly what telepathic trash they were exchanging with their eyes.

"Hey,"

Knox ignored Aaron's nauseating morning voice next to him.

"Hey," Aaron repeated, "ignoring me ain't gonna work,"

"Shut up," Knox hissed back having zero patience for his antics this early in the morning. He didn't think he would ever forgive Aaron even in his next lifetime for what he endured last night. Knox's lips curled. He didn't even think the brute cared how messed up his mental health would be after this insane situation.

Aaron leaned closer and smacked his shoulder into Knox's causing him to stumble forward. It took him a second to snap back into line and in form. Knox was on the thinner side compared to Aaron's frame which was distasteful but he couldn't hate genes.

His genes failed in the "large, huge and intimidating," department but he never had any complaints. He had always been average size, average height, average everything. Well, until now. At this very moment in his pocket, he was Sandra with massive boobs, and clear doe eyes who was a literal fox-like model.

He glared to the side at Aaron, who grinned back at him.

"'Mr. all at attention, or I'll throw you overboard is late.' I can pretty much guess why," Aaron snickered mischievously.

"He was up all night enjoying getting told, "Oh handsome, you're so huge. There's just something about you that makes me want to get on my knees-,"

"Aaron, shut up or I swear to god, Wallace won't be the one throwing you the fuck overboard," Knox snapped with restrained anger.

His fingers were sinking into his palms from how hard his hands were clenched into fists. He didn't need a reminder of how last night went. He didn't need to think about the absolute dogshit of a conversation he had with Victor Wallace on that app. It was sickening to remember.

Aaron laughed out loud cutting into the professional silence over the hull. At that pitiful moment, yours truly walked out as if he had a stick up his ass crack, bringing a tense atmosphere with him, in a manner of grace that only a dictator of hell would have.

Knox straightened his posture. He lifted his chin and he stood at attention with every muscle in his body.

The sun was shining directly down at them making it hard to see. It took a minute before the reflection on his white-uniformed stocky silhouette faded and he came into view with a knotted furrow between his dark eyebrows. His green eyes without missing a beat fell on Knox as if an anchor pulled it down towards him. His firm steps felt heavier as he approached.

It felt as if the slapping of Victor's boots up the steps was directly landing on his aortic veins. His hands at his side clenched into fists. He didn't even blink from the sharp eyes borrowing through his frame with sharp observance.