InsaneJournal

One on One

Who: Breacan and Poseidon.
What: Random talk.
Where: Breacan's home. Out on the pier.
When: Now.
Words: 955.
Rating: Maybe R as there is M/M references.

Note: Un'beta as usual.

(Meta knowledge only).

Breacan was sitting out on the far end of the pier, alone. Wrapped around him, to fend off the early evening chill, was a blanket. In his hands was a half a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Beside him was an ashtray and a half drunk bottle of beer. The captain was trying to get used to the place all over again, he was having trouble accepting he was back.



Giving his condition, the chill of the air, the drinking, the smoking and sitting on damp flooring of the pier was probably not the best thing to improve his health. But he was out there thinking and soaking up all the scenery, before night fell.

The cook knew when he was out there not to bother him. Not to let anyone bother him. And so he was left alone to think, drink, and smoke. Breacan was doing more drinking and smoking than thinking, he didn’t mind, he needed the time to sit and do nothing.

While looking around he could tell rain was coming in. The cockle shell and mares tails clouds, the still air, and the way the birds glided in the air, all hinted rain was coming. He didn’t have to think about this, it was automatic, he just knew.

Just like he knew Poseidon was there beside him. He just knew. Poseidon didn’t have to appear, or talk, but the sea-god eventually did speak.

“Sitting on wet flooring will give you piles.” He said, while appearing next to Breacan.

“Is it not wet rocks?”

Poseidon helped himself to the half empty bottle of beer, taking in a mouthful.

“Either way, wet flooring can’t be good for your ass.” Poseidon replied, as he took to looking over Breacan’s ailing features. “You should be in bed.”

“Yes, Milord. Soon.” He was tired and he wasn’t going to get into a battle of wills with Poseidon.

The god watched him concerned, knowing when not to push at him. Easing himself down onto the Pier he stretched out, leaning against one of the pier poles. Breacan sat opposite, stretched out in a similar fashion.

Beer now claimed as his, Poseidon drank more from the bottle.

“Eothian, says to tell you he's sorry he missed kicking your ass out of hell.”

The god watched pleased, as it brought a smile to Breacan’s solemn face.

“I gather, that says he is doing well?”

Poseidon grinned and nodded. “He is.”

A companionable silence fell over the two. Poseidon drank, and Breacan watched the water as the sun began to fall. As the temperature dropped in the air, Breacan pulled the blanket around himself tighter. He had started to develop a slight fever and felt both hot and cold at the same time. Without thinking about it he turned his wedding ring and looked at it, temporary forgetting Poseidon was there.

“If I could bring her back…” said the god quietly watching him.

Breacan cut him off before he could finish,

“Do not even go there.” His gaze settled on the silver band.

Poseidon knew what he was doing, seen Breacan fight himself over the problem for ages, he knew what Breacan was thinking about.

“You’re thinking of dating again aren’t, you?”

Breacan shot him a dark look. Trust Poseidon to get to the heart of the matter.

“Do I look fool enough to tell you?”

But it was true, that was the heart of the matter. Part of him wanted to be happy, find someone to love, be loved. He wasn’t lonely; he just wanted to move on from the grief and the sadness and the ghost which haunted him. He had to let go. Taking the ring off, casting it aside, was part of the healing and letting go. He couldn’t form any healthy relationship holding on to the past and wearing his wedding ring. Breacan gaze settled on Poseidon, he was fooling himself thinking all he had to do was take off the ring to have a happy relationship. He knew he couldn’t, especially with the sea-god jealously sabotaging any attempts.

The god sulked; in retaliation he gave Breacan an emotional jab.

“How do you know the person you’re fancying, won’t be me in disguise.”

The jab was a little too hard. Yes, the thought had to occur to the captain. Deep down, he thought he’d be able to tell if it was Poseidon. He’d just know. Though he couldn’t take the chance and find out he was wrong all along. It was why he vowed celibacy.

“Do you not think this has crossed my mind before?”

Poseidon felt a wave of shame wash over him.

I won't do it.” Even as Poseidon spoke the words, he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t. How far would he go to get Breacan in his bed? He’d do it if he was desperate. Was he desperate now? Even as the thought came into the god’s mind, he still couldn’t stop himself from feeling hurt at the captain’s look of disbelief.

Breacan stood up; he couldn’t believe Poseidon words, not for one minute. Suddenly he was tired, he needed sleep, and just as he was about to leave Poseidon haughtily spoke up,

“You still are under my command, captain prince.”

The prince pulled himself to his full height, turned around to face Poseidon square on, waiting for an attack. It was taking all his energy and the color was draining from his face.

“Permission to be dismissed, Milord.”

Poseidon watched the captain’s paling features, uncurled his fist and relaxed. He couldn’t do this, not while Breacan was ill.

“Granted, captain.”

Breacan turned on his heel and walked away from the god. Poseidon watch him walk all the way down to the pier, and into the house. When the door closed, and the lights were turned off, Poseidon disappeared just as rain began to fall on the pier.