#captain logan

Remus let Logan be weak. Ever since that stormy night when he slept in Remus’ arms, Logan was able to be more of himself around his first mate. He relied more on the man, sharing the weight of his daily stresses, and the sharing of his bed became more of a regular occurrence — to the point where Remus’ things resided in the Captain’s quarters. Logan found himself accidentally wearing Remus’ pants one day (not that either of them minded), and the pair would sit out on the steps of the deck at night, Logan pointing out constellations until Remus dozed against his shoulder.

It took several months of this for the rest of the crew to ask what was going on between the pair. And when they did, it startled Logan, because to him, Remus was a constant, the one he woke up to each morning, spent his full day beside, and went to sleep next to. Things weren’t romantic… at least from Logan’s perspective, but when the second mate asked about their relationship, if he’d need to officiate a wedding anytime soon, Logan realized how the two appeared to everyone else.

He hesitated. And Remus noticed. That night, under the stars, the two laid on the deck, Logan burying his face in Remus’ chest as he explained all of his anxieties about entering into a romantic relationship. And Remus listened; he always did. Despite his eccentricities, despite his need to move around — when Logan needed him to, he sat still, he stayed silent, and he was present. He anchored Logan. He was the harbor that Logan could always return to.

“We don’t need to meet anyone else’s expectations,” Remus had said. Expectations were stifling. Expectations caused one to feel lost, to feel unable to bridge into something great. Remus let his fingers twine in Logan’s hair (it was getting longer, as if Logan was allowing himself to move past his own expectations of being a neat and tidy Captain), and the two laid on the deck; just the two of them, the moon, and the slow rocking of the boat over the waves.

At some point during that night, Logan conceded to his desires; he shifted in Remus’ arms until their foreheads were pushed together, their breathing evened out and matching. Their noses brushed, and Remus let himself laugh breathlessly, his fingers tangling in Logan’s hair, their bodies pressed tight in each other’s arms, until, inevitably, their lips connected in a needy kiss. Logan could feel Remus smiling into it, as if just Logan’s lips brought him all of the joy in the world.

A few days later, they made landfall, the rest of their crew off to shake off their sea legs, see their families, stock up on materials. But the Captain and his first mate stayed on board, save for the night they went to have some drinks at the pub.

They stumbled back in each other’s arms, laughing, singing, and once they stood on deck, Logan hesitated. He looked up at Remus through his lengthening hair, and settled his hands on Remus’ hips.

“Teach me how to dance,” he breathed out, and Remus’ eyes sparkled towards him, a smile tugging away his inebriation. Remus moved Logan’s hands into position and then they swayed to the waves smacking against the side of the boat, the caw of the gulls, under the moonlight and the stars and nothing else. Logan, usually so revered, so unsure, leaned his head against the taller man’s shoulder, and he laughed as Remus picked up the pace, swinging Logan around on the deck.

The couple danced long enough for the clouds to roll in and for the rain to start falling, but they didn’t notice; even as the water seeped into their clothes and made their hair drip, they focused only on each other, on the way they breathed as if they were one body. 

And Logan allowed himself to fall. 

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