Off has been on the ship for a fortnight, far from his beautiful home and comfortable bed and the ease of wealth and luxury.
The taste of salt in the sea air is no longer noticeable, is simply the way of his world now.
The pirates have made lewd comments but no one has dared to touch him, not since the captain had declared him strictly off-limits.
It should be a blessing, but it’s actually a shame, or, at least, Off should be ashamed. There’s nothing Off wants more than for the captain to touch him, has gotten to the point of hoping whenever he hears a creak in the middle of the night that it will be Gun sneaking into the private little room they’ve provided him.
If Gun won’t dare, then Off supposes that he must.
Careful not to be seen, Off enters Gun’s chambers.
Gun is waiting.