My Darling Lies Over the Ocean (YouTubers AU)

34. Love all. Trust few. Do harm to no one.

Felix has a pain in the palm of his hand. He jerks awake, and the brightness of the morning sun helps him connect that he must have finally fallen asleep last night. More likely passed out if he thinks about it a little bit more. He can feel warmth around him as he twists on the thick blanket underneath him. The familiar tenseness of Jack's arms as they hold him close from behind. The rise and fall of his breath on the back of his neck as the blonde takes a moment to realize why his inside of his hand is hurting. 

The small stone with small dots for eyes and a line for a mouth is being clutched around his tight fingers. So tightly that there is even a small red mark where he has held it throughout the night. An anchor for him to hold onto while the slow sadness of Cry's absence could roll over his mind while he was asleep. Felix blinks, and knows that tears will start up before he can even prepare his body for the sobs. He wishes that Jack was already awake and cooking breakfast. Then he could curl up in the pain without the blue eyes of his husband sweep up and down his face and neck. Ask questions that the Swede just can't answer about how he's doing. If there is anything that he can do to help. The answers will be the same, and Jack will pause. He'll tilt his head, trying to look Felix in the eyes to make sure that he's being as honest as he can. Then Jack will sigh. He always sighs when he doesn't want to start up what will always be an eventual fight. Then finally, Felix will be left alone.

Today is different though. Jack didn't get up like he usually does with the sunrise. Being a chef gave him the need to give himself as many hours of the day as he could. Mostly for the sake of the restaurants. Heading down to the local meat markets and vegetable carts. Everything as delicious and fresh as he can make it. Felix always rolls his eyes at how obsessive his husband is about the quality of everything he prepares. A few times Felix had accompanied Jack while he got items. It was more out of happenstance than actual interest that had Felix yawning and shuffling behind a very bouncy Irishman in the daybreak of a work day. Usually Felix had just gotten home from an amazing after party for one of his art shows. His smile still full of alcohol and pressing Jack for kisses as they both stood in their massive kitchen and waiting for the coffee to brew for very different reasons. 

As Felix recalls these few times where they spent those early mornings together, he wonders if that will ever happen again for them. Beyond getting off of this fucking island, of course. Before a ship sinking and the death of two people were part of their relationship, Felix had hated the way that Jack loved touching food. It wasn't actual jealousy. It's not like Jack would caress a carrot the way that he would hold onto Felix's dick, or anything as silly as that. It more of the reverence that Jack gave each part of a dish he would prepare. The gentle consideration that he gave his deeply detailed menu. The way he mixed flavors and scents the way Felix himself mixed colors and tones on his painting canvas. True artistry from both of their sets of hands, yet still they had so much trouble reaching out to each other with the same amount of dedication and care. 

There would be moments of what they could be. Usually with the assistance of drinking or heated rage, they could crash into waiting arms and burning breath just like they did before Felix's wandering eyes found temporary comfort. Even now, with the scandal that had the websites and fans all screaming out for Jack to leave him, they still fucked like the world was falling apart around them. When they actually fucked, it was great.  

There is a shadow that dances across the makeshift tent. The movement is enough to help pull Felix back to the present. The salty air now burns the inside of his nostrils, and the shape of the shadow can only be Ken. Who knows when he got back from Cry's grave, but he hopes that he didn't stay out there all night. There is a small cough, and what sounds like the rustling of equipment near the center of the camp. Felix grunts as he pushes himself up onto the back of his forearms. His eyes are still adjusting to the lightening sky. Jack grumbles as he turns over, with his back now facing Felix like it usually does when they sleep. In an odd way he is comforted by this. That even in the weirdness of their surroundings Jack can still only stand touching him for just so long. 

Eventually Felix pulls on his pants and shirt. His bare feet wiggle in the small patch of sand near the foot of the tent before he stands up and brushes himself off. A couple of long stretches and he pulls back the front of the shelter and steps into the world. A world with a lot more sunshine and a lot less Cry. The stone necklace bumps against his narrow chest as he starts to walk over towards the middle of the campsite.  Ken's broad back is bent over some fishing equipment and large tattooed arms shift as he works to untangle something. There is the soft mutters and curses of a man who seems like what he's doing is more important than anything else in existence. He barely notices the blonde coming up from behind him until Felix is so close that he could have hugged him, if the stars allowed for such a thing in the pale start of the day. 

"Like some help with that?" Felix asks.

The dark eyes of the raven glance up into the crystal blue, and narrow. Then his gaze tilts back to his own muscled hands, and then back towards the slender face of the last man he really wants help from, though desperately needs. 

"Yeah, sure," Ken answers back. "Sit down, and I'll tell you what to do."