sunburned | (no subject)

Laurence shook his head, placing his calculations into a bag to take with them for all the good they might do. He did not have Temeraire's mind for numbers and could promise little in regards to their accuracy. "Not unless you feel it necessary," he said, certain Granby would at the least wish to bring his sketchbook.

The sketchbook and spare pencils, a little tin of watercolours that he'd managed to scrounge up lived in the leather satchel that was dumped unceremoniously by the door. It didn't take long to sling it across his chest.

"I suppose I'm ready then."

"Good." The change in environment and the possibility of doing something useful would surely do Granby a world of help. Laurence smiled, his mood visibly easier now that there was a set course of action before the two of them. Even the walk to the dock seemed to go more swiftly than usual now that he had that sense of purpose.

He wandered along in Laurence's wake, taking his time and enjoying the sun on his shoulders. The boat is nice enough; cheerful in the sun. He grinned, steeping in closer behind Laurence, not pressing against him but near enough on the empty dock.

"You all but glow with pride," he says.

"Do I?" Despite the question, Laurence could not help the smile that remained on his face. Even on a magical island, the sea still felt like home, something that would remain familiar regardless of the circumstances, and having a vessel of his own -no matter the size- only made it that much better. "I was a sailor long before I was an aviator, John, so I suppose it is somewhat warranted."

"Aye. You do." They were alone and Granby leaned in, pressing a kiss against Laurence's cheek, lightly stubbled, before walking past him, down the jetty. "So...how're you going to press me into service?"

Laurence looked down, blushing fiercely even if they had been unobserved. A good many things were still far too private to be so open. It was no reflection on Granby, simply on his own character.

"I had rather hoped that you would come willingly," he said, following Granby down towards the boat.

"Well, I am and I will but I assume you'll want me to make myself useful," he says, climbing aboard and dropping his satchel not the deck. "You know you won't want me sitting about making the place look untidy."

"I hardly think you will be so great a burden," Laurence said, busying himself with various ropes and knots in preparation for their getting underway. Surely Granby knew the procedure by now. "And I would not wish for you to do more than your wound will permit, John."

There were a handful of small things that Granby could do perfectly capably and he fell to doing them without being told.

"I know that, Will," he said, with a crooked smile. "I'll be careful, I promise."

They both knew that that wasn't entirely likely. But at least he was trying.

He was indeed well aware of it, and he returned Granby's smile as he came aboard. He was in his element now, moving about from task to task with an effortless capability as they made their way to open waters. The motions had been ingrained in him from such a young age that he could likely have done them in his sleep. He was, however, still grateful for Granby's help.

They worked well together, which was no surprise and they were soon well under way. He liked watching Laurence out on the water; he seemed very much in his element.

"Will you be busy the whole time or will we have time to drop anchor and enjoy the day?" he asked.

Laurence looked over at Granby, his minded leaping instantly to his injury. A rest would do no harm if he truly was fatigued, and he himself could use the time to attempt to make progress with his sheet of seemingly never-ending equations. "I do not see why not."

"Will you at least come sit with me?" he asked, making himself comfortable with his back to the rail. He had an idea, but he knew he'd have to ease Laurence into it. An inch at a time, if necessary

It took a few minutes before the boat was properly anchored to Laurence's satisfaction, yet once it was he readily went to sit at Granby's side. However, he took his sheet of paper with him.

Granby restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the paper but it was a close run thing. He dragged out his sketchpad, leaning close enough that his shoulder touched Laurence's.

One of the benefits of privacy.

The privacy was indeed a large factor and Laurence allowed the closeness. He said little, but he enjoyed it quite a bit, contented with the chaste contact.

For a while, he contended himself with idly sketching variations on Laurence's profile, but he quickly got bored of that and discarded his pad altogether.

"Have you thought any?" he asks, conversationally. "On what I said while i was in the clinic?"

Laurence nodded somewhat distractedly, his eyes and mind almost entirely focused on the paper before him. By all rights what he was calculating ought to have made sense, he had over eighteen years' experience at sea to support him, yet nothing was right and attempting to solve that problem was unfortunately occupying him rather thoroughly.

"For the love of God, Laurence," says Granby, more exasperated than angry, reaching out to pluck the piece of paper out of Laurence's hands altogether, tucking it into his sketchbook for safe-keeping. Laurence's inability to see what was in front of him was perpetually infuriating.

"Enough. I want you, I mean to have you - my shoulder is fine and I have waited long enough."

Laurence grabbed futiley for his sheet of equations, regarding Granby sternly when it seemed unlikely to be returned. He had been about to chide the other man for childishness when his last remarks drew him up short.

"Very well. When we return we may--"

"No," said Granby, mildly enough, but pushing himself off the deck and offering Laurence his hand. "Now, if you please."

"Now?" Laurence took the hand out of habit, though he rose mainly of his own accord. He glanced at their surroundings, certain he had misheard. "It will not take us long to return, John. If you will simply wait a little longer--"

"No, Will," said Granby again, shaking his head, keeping Laurence's hand in his and leading him towards the door leading to the small cabin. "I have plans and there's no point in resistance."

Some measure of breeding in Laurence continued to protest at the impropriety of doing what Granby surely wanted at that time of the day. But he did not offer any real resistance, letting himself be led along by Granby with a somewhat overwhelmed expression upon his face. "And may I know of these plans?"