leo-foster:
“I haven’t forgotten. Given it wasn’t my decision to board your ship…” He decides to stop talking, there, for a moment. He has nothing else to say about that, not when everything he can think about to say about it has already been said. “Perhaps it wasn’t my decision, though, but I will admit, it has been some of the most exciting weeks in my life.” That’s true. He feels slightly better about himself with the fact that he’s telling most of the truth through all of this. “You are right. Your crew is very dedicated to you. Some of them were very kind to me, as well. You have good men to be at sea with.”
They’re so close together that he can feel Ramsden’s body heat against his own skin where he’s naturally colder than everyone else, for some reason. It’s odd, but it’s comforting. Being so close to the only human he considers that he got to know well. “I am sorry you think so lowly of me, or if, other than being left in that crate, I have done anything to make you think of me like that. I have no intentions to do any of that, but I suppose there is no way I can prove it. So I understand.”
“I didn’t think I could be, either,” He says, eyes moving away from the captain’s eyes down to his mouth. Maybe it’s a ridiculous thing to want for a final wish, and maybe he really is crazy. Yet, if nothing else, he knows he’ll be happy enough if it’s the last thing he ever gets. His first kiss - siren or human - and maybe something to think about as he’s dying. He can’t help but wonder if he’ll still be able to think about it in death, if there really is an afterlife, if he’ll still remember things and be able to think back on them.
He can’t decide if he wants that or if he’d prefer the eternal silence.
But for the moment, he decides to take the plunge. Standing a little taller on his tiptoes, he presses a gentle, chaste kiss against Ramsden’s lips. It’s nothing dirty, just closed lips on closed lips, but it’s all he needs. Perhaps he wants more, but it’s all he needs, and he has a feeling it’s all he will get, too.
Ramsden knows what Leo wanted to say - he recalls their first conversation; his own accusations, Leo’s defending himself that his presence on the ship wasn’t brought about by his own accord. Then, he did want to know how exactly it happened if what Leo said was true and he wasn’t a stowaway on The Devil’s Merchant in the true sense of the word. Now, he can’t bring himself to care for it. There are too many other things occupying his mind.
“I don’t have any reason to think well of you,” is the last statement he throws at him, spits it out. He still can’t comprehend what Leo’s asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Maybe not confusion, just slight shock, one of the many situations in which he’s felt it with Leo. It shouldn’t come as a suprise anymore. But he has never spent as much time with other civilians as he has with Leo, so how could he have gotten used to it in such a short period of time?
The first thing he notices is that Leo suddenly becomes a bit taller. The second thing he notices is that he notices nothing at all. Leo’s lips are just there, on his, present and demanding attention in the gentlest manner, and the surprising thing isn’t that Ramsden’s first thought isn’t to push the boy away - it’s that it’s warm, all of it, the entirety of his own body, and maybe it’s what he’s been missing. He doesn’t dare develop the thought any further.
He pulls away, but it’s only for a second, and less than an inch from Leo’s face, before he presses his own lips against the other boy’s again. He doesn’t expect the kiss to be as soft, and he lets his hand drop to Leo’s hip. Ramsden squeezes him there, pulling him closer. His lips gliding against Leo’s, he wonders if that’s what was supposed to happen all this time.

















