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Other Kael and Jem stories can be found here
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There where times when he didn't just long for the sea, he needed it. I was something Jem would never fully understand – respect, yes, and over time become adept at noticing – but regardless of familiarity the boundless ocean still filled his lover with something between discomfort and dread, and he would never understand in his bones what it was to be away from the sea and feel the lack day after day.
For Jem sailing was an ordeal – more often than not his presence on board the boat a gift because there was no one else Jem would take that step for - and their boat a fragile island of safety to cling to. For Keal it is joy and freedom, and a boat merely an instrument to become one with the waves and the tides and the winds, to escape everything and everyone and share laughter with the heavens in thanks. Callis felt much the same way – sailing and swimming woven into their childhoods as much as the steady beat of tide on rocks had been a part of daily life and nightly dreams for seasons wheeling after seasons. It was their childhood, their joy and Callis's sole rebellion, that she would not give it up in favour of more worthwhile adult persists, for all her mother's disdain and demanding.
The longing was on him now, under the skin. His meditations left him with the breath of salt spay in his nostrils and with his skin prickling for want of wild water's touch. The horizons seemed narrow and cluttered, even from the hill tops, and the night's sounds muffled and paralysed. I took an act of concentration to push the thoughts aside long enough to work the wards that paid their rent. That night when Jem stood at the study door, holding two steaming mugs and smiling just a little, he was suggesting a weekend in Brighton to give them both a break, and Kael realised, looking down, that the wood he'd been turning in his hands had been fashioned into a smooth sleek seal, body stretched in a single wave to scythe through the water.
***** ***** *****
There where times when he didn't just long for the sea, he needed it. I was something Jem would never fully understand – respect, yes, and over time become adept at noticing – but regardless of familiarity the boundless ocean still filled his lover with something between discomfort and dread, and he would never understand in his bones what it was to be away from the sea and feel the lack day after day.
For Jem sailing was an ordeal – more often than not his presence on board the boat a gift because there was no one else Jem would take that step for - and their boat a fragile island of safety to cling to. For Keal it is joy and freedom, and a boat merely an instrument to become one with the waves and the tides and the winds, to escape everything and everyone and share laughter with the heavens in thanks. Callis felt much the same way – sailing and swimming woven into their childhoods as much as the steady beat of tide on rocks had been a part of daily life and nightly dreams for seasons wheeling after seasons. It was their childhood, their joy and Callis's sole rebellion, that she would not give it up in favour of more worthwhile adult persists, for all her mother's disdain and demanding.
The longing was on him now, under the skin. His meditations left him with the breath of salt spay in his nostrils and with his skin prickling for want of wild water's touch. The horizons seemed narrow and cluttered, even from the hill tops, and the night's sounds muffled and paralysed. I took an act of concentration to push the thoughts aside long enough to work the wards that paid their rent. That night when Jem stood at the study door, holding two steaming mugs and smiling just a little, he was suggesting a weekend in Brighton to give them both a break, and Kael realised, looking down, that the wood he'd been turning in his hands had been fashioned into a smooth sleek seal, body stretched in a single wave to scythe through the water.
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danke hon.
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::hugs:: In other words - this was just lovely. Heee.
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