We Deserve Much Better Than We've Had (Slurpie) [Minecraft Drabble #4]

221 5 3
                                    

R {Fluff, angst}

Warning: abuse, rape, character death

Cosmo Jarvis - "Gay Pirates"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dysG12QCdTA

Right in the OTP.

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Mitch leans over the side of the ship and throws up his lunch. He pours the remainder of his water into the ocean. It doesn't really matter. The water is too salty to drink, anyway. He grabs the rope that he's supposed to haul up. He pauses and throws a wistful glance at the Plank that's not too far away. Mitch quickly wipes his hands on his pants before trying to haul up this stupid rope. But it slips through his fingers anyway, making him flinch and hiss. The rope hangs innocently from the peg, the end dropping down into the water. Reaching over, Mitch grabs a hold of the rope.

He sees two hands grip the rope alongside his. Mitch pauses. It's Jerome, looking tired and dirty, but as beautiful as ever. Jerome smiles, and Mitch instantly feels less tired.

"Thanks," Mitch says quietly, so that no one will hear him.

"No problem, biggums," Jerome answers.

. . .

There's a horrible pounding in his head and Mitch feels dizzy. There's blood mixed with a white liquid running down the inside of his thighs. There's an ache in groin and backside. Mitch stands up, but that sends a pain running up his spine, so he sits back down.

Mitch doesn't want to go back to the quarters right now. No doubt that they're still awake, drinking and laughing. He prefers to stay in this little janitor's closet until they're gone. He curls up into a ball in the corner, naked and humiliated.

The door creaks open, and Mitch shrinks back. But it's only Jerome, who's smiling weakly at him.

"Oh, Mitch," Jerome sighs, sitting down besides his lover.

"I'm fine, Jerome," Mitch assures him.

"Only two more weeks," Jerome murmurs, snuggling up to Mitch's naked body. "Two more weeks until we're free forever."

"Two more weeks until we'll be far away, somewhere where the captain won't be mad and we won't have to deal with this shit anymore." Mitch manages a smile. "You're my Land Ahoy, you know that?"

"And you're mine," Jerome answers, pressing his and Mitch's lips together.

. . .

Mitch can hear the crunch crunch of the glass that they'd put in his shoes with each step. He can feel it, too. Every step threatens to turn his feet to mangled, bloody messes.

He walks over to the supply closet, where he and Jerome spend their time after work. He sleeps there sometimes, too, since the other men have made it a hobby to piss in his hammock almost every night. It's not comfortable, but it's sure as hell safer.

"Hey," Jerome walks up to him.

"Hi." Mitch smiles. Jerome. The only thing keeping him from throwing himself off of this ship.

They enter the supply closet together, hand in hand.

"What's that crunching sound?" Jerome asks, scrunching up his nose.

Mitch sighs and pulls off his left shoe. He turns it upside down and shakes it. Pieces of shattered, bloody glass pile on the floor, along with a few pieces that were embedded in Mitch's foot. He does the same with the other shoes.

Jeroem stares in horror. "Mitch," he chokes out. "They made you wear those?"

"If I didn't, they'd hurt you," Mitch explains. Jerome throws himself into Mitch's arms, sobbing even though he's not the one being abused.

Suddenly, the door is being thrown open and Mitch and Jerome are pulled away from each other.

"Don't look at him again or we'll kill you," a man snarls, kicking Mitch and making him fall. He curls up into a ball as they beat him up, hearing only Jerome's screams.

. . .

Their hands are bound together, and there are pistols pointing at their heads and knifes poking their backs. Mitch and Jerome's relationship had finally come into notice of the captain. And, being the nice, caring person that he is, he'd ordered both of them thrown overboard.

Mitch can hear the yells and jeers, but the only person that he's focusing on is Jerome.

"I hope they didn't tie up your hands as tight as mine," Mitch says. Jerome turns around and smiles. His hair is matted with blood and there's a gash running down one of his cheeks, but he looks gorgeous.

"I'll love you still in Hell," Jerome says. Someone reaches out and pushes him into the sea. The crew hold Mitch back for the painful five seconds it takes for Jerome to go under.

When he's released, Mitch just runs and jumps overboard obediently, aiming for the ripples where Jerome landed. He refuses to provide his abusers the privilege of pushing him over.

The weights pull him down quickly. Even though Mitch is quickly running out of breath, there's only one thing on his mind. Jerome. He opens his eyes, not caring about the sting, and searches the blurry, dark waters for his lover.

Mitch sees Jerome a few yards below him, his white shirt billowing out. Jerome is looking at him desperately, and his legs are attempting to propel himself upwards. Mitch straightens and wills himself to sink faster.

Somehow, Mitch is soon eye level with Jerome underwater. He entangles their ankle weights together. Neither of them care that they're lightheaded, because they have each other. Jerome presses his lips to Mitch's. Both of them open their mouths to deepen the kiss, and the water quickly rushes in, fills their throats and lungs, and suffocates them.

And in their last moments, they're both thinking the same thing.

We deserve much better than we've had.

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