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Panic Soldiers
folder
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
801
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
801
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. All resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No animals were harmed in the making of this story. All parts unrecognizable are of my creation. The truth is out there.
Panic Soldiers
Panic Soldiers
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Summery: In which, James and Wesley are completely normal guys - but amongst the trials of life and all that falls inbetween, they grow to become more than they expected.
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Chapter 1: Wesley Hates Boats
---------------------------------------------
Up, up, and over.
“Wesley!” A deep voice called out harshly, the tone rough and raged with stress. “Hold on to the rail!”
Coughing, spluttering, and whining - the boy’s body shook while his stomach heaved, the world about him shifting to and fro as white hands clutched tightly to the silver rail that pressed at his chest, his brain and gut and throat aching with the effort of spilling his hastily-eaten breakfast over the side of the vessel.
‘This sucks.’
The tang of stomach acid staining his mouth, he watched the waves crash against coloured wood as he caught his breath, the spray of the water hitting his face, while the shrill cry of seagulls seemed to echo overhead, drowning out his father’s shouting.
‘Why are we even here?’
Hauling himself back into the boat, the boy groaned heavily, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his already-soiled jacket, as he closed his eyes and tried to steady himself.
Could this week have been any worse? First they move to a whole new city, away from their friends, away from Auntie Pat, and then, not even a month later, Mr. I-Buy-The-Bread-So-Don’t-Talk-To-Me-In-That-Tone-Of-Voice decides that they need a vacation.
On a boat.
‘It’s not gonna help.’
The boy turned around slowly, steadily - feeling the persistent wind ruffle his already mussed hair as he attempted to make his way back to his seat, ignoring the disapproving looks of the honeymooners and sympathetic whisperings of the old ladies, and the worried expression on his father’s face.
He had never liked boats.
‘We should have stayed in counselling.’
A sudden hooting roared in his ear then, and the boy jumped a meter in the air, almost falling to the wet, sodden floor of the ferry, and doing nothing for his nauseated state - much to the amusement of the young girl sitting to his father’s right.
“Approaching the ‘liner! Grabs your bags, folks!” The cheerful voice of the announcer declared through the loud speakers, giving one last honk of the boat-horn for emphasis, to which Wesley merely flinched, and frowned.
Squeezing around the now standing and bustling passengers, he made his way hastily over to his seat once again, and stopped at the smirking girl, snatching his bag out of the hand that offered it to him - damp as it was from sitting on the boat’s floor.
“Shut up, Claire.” He hissed, and she merely smiled, flipping fake-blond hair over her shoulder, before their father took a hold of both their shoulders and steered them towards the direction that all of the passengers were currently staring - with no comment on how Wesley would have to change his clothes when they got to their room; and he was grateful for it.
“That’s it, guys.” The man stated with certainty then, a level of awe to his voice that seemed to echo over the expressions of the other voyagers that crowed around them. “The Coral Princess.”
Even from the distance they were from it, the Cruise-liner was noticeably huge - four levels of ensuite rooms, lavish restaurants complete with stage and open-bar, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, spas and game rooms - not to mention that the entire outside of the ship was a bright coral-pink. Wesley had read the pamphlet.
He wondered how they could even afford this holiday, and almost when to mention it, before he felt his father squeeze his shoulder and turned to see the man give him a small, strained smile of encouragement - patting the boy’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort; something he had never been very good at.
Wesley forced himself to returned the smile, feeling a sickness unrelated to the boat come to settle in his stomach, and swallowed his words.
The man was trying. This was the first holiday they had attempted since it happened. He could at least attempt to co-operate.
“Don’t worry, Wes.” His father said then, after a moment of thought. “Maybe you’ll meet a boy your age on the ‘liner. And if not, then you have Claire.” He tried to enthuse. “It’ll be fine.”
Wesley didn’t comment.
Instead, he adjusted the bag-strap on his shoulder, put on his most impassive expression, and prepared to board.
----------------------------------------
Hello! This is the first chapter to an original Slash (Yaoi, M/M) story I have started on FictionPress.com - if you wish to continue reading the story, then that's where I'll be updating.
Heres the link!
http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2647477/1/Panic_Soldiers
My penname there is Lady of the House. If you have any problems finding it, let me know and I'll help you out.
Thanks for reading!
---------------------------------------------
Summery: In which, James and Wesley are completely normal guys - but amongst the trials of life and all that falls inbetween, they grow to become more than they expected.
---------------------------------------------
Chapter 1: Wesley Hates Boats
---------------------------------------------
Up, up, and over.
“Wesley!” A deep voice called out harshly, the tone rough and raged with stress. “Hold on to the rail!”
Coughing, spluttering, and whining - the boy’s body shook while his stomach heaved, the world about him shifting to and fro as white hands clutched tightly to the silver rail that pressed at his chest, his brain and gut and throat aching with the effort of spilling his hastily-eaten breakfast over the side of the vessel.
‘This sucks.’
The tang of stomach acid staining his mouth, he watched the waves crash against coloured wood as he caught his breath, the spray of the water hitting his face, while the shrill cry of seagulls seemed to echo overhead, drowning out his father’s shouting.
‘Why are we even here?’
Hauling himself back into the boat, the boy groaned heavily, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his already-soiled jacket, as he closed his eyes and tried to steady himself.
Could this week have been any worse? First they move to a whole new city, away from their friends, away from Auntie Pat, and then, not even a month later, Mr. I-Buy-The-Bread-So-Don’t-Talk-To-Me-In-That-Tone-Of-Voice decides that they need a vacation.
On a boat.
‘It’s not gonna help.’
The boy turned around slowly, steadily - feeling the persistent wind ruffle his already mussed hair as he attempted to make his way back to his seat, ignoring the disapproving looks of the honeymooners and sympathetic whisperings of the old ladies, and the worried expression on his father’s face.
He had never liked boats.
‘We should have stayed in counselling.’
A sudden hooting roared in his ear then, and the boy jumped a meter in the air, almost falling to the wet, sodden floor of the ferry, and doing nothing for his nauseated state - much to the amusement of the young girl sitting to his father’s right.
“Approaching the ‘liner! Grabs your bags, folks!” The cheerful voice of the announcer declared through the loud speakers, giving one last honk of the boat-horn for emphasis, to which Wesley merely flinched, and frowned.
Squeezing around the now standing and bustling passengers, he made his way hastily over to his seat once again, and stopped at the smirking girl, snatching his bag out of the hand that offered it to him - damp as it was from sitting on the boat’s floor.
“Shut up, Claire.” He hissed, and she merely smiled, flipping fake-blond hair over her shoulder, before their father took a hold of both their shoulders and steered them towards the direction that all of the passengers were currently staring - with no comment on how Wesley would have to change his clothes when they got to their room; and he was grateful for it.
“That’s it, guys.” The man stated with certainty then, a level of awe to his voice that seemed to echo over the expressions of the other voyagers that crowed around them. “The Coral Princess.”
Even from the distance they were from it, the Cruise-liner was noticeably huge - four levels of ensuite rooms, lavish restaurants complete with stage and open-bar, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, spas and game rooms - not to mention that the entire outside of the ship was a bright coral-pink. Wesley had read the pamphlet.
He wondered how they could even afford this holiday, and almost when to mention it, before he felt his father squeeze his shoulder and turned to see the man give him a small, strained smile of encouragement - patting the boy’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort; something he had never been very good at.
Wesley forced himself to returned the smile, feeling a sickness unrelated to the boat come to settle in his stomach, and swallowed his words.
The man was trying. This was the first holiday they had attempted since it happened. He could at least attempt to co-operate.
“Don’t worry, Wes.” His father said then, after a moment of thought. “Maybe you’ll meet a boy your age on the ‘liner. And if not, then you have Claire.” He tried to enthuse. “It’ll be fine.”
Wesley didn’t comment.
Instead, he adjusted the bag-strap on his shoulder, put on his most impassive expression, and prepared to board.
----------------------------------------
Hello! This is the first chapter to an original Slash (Yaoi, M/M) story I have started on FictionPress.com - if you wish to continue reading the story, then that's where I'll be updating.
Heres the link!
http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2647477/1/Panic_Soldiers
My penname there is Lady of the House. If you have any problems finding it, let me know and I'll help you out.
Thanks for reading!