wintersday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wintersday) wrote2022-04-03 07:50 pm
wintersday) wrote2022-04-03 07:50 pm
Fic: Sea and Sky
Title: Sea and Sky
Fandom: Homestuck
Major Characters/Pairings: Sollux/Feferi
Wordcount: 222 words
Rating: PG
POV: Second person
Summary: Feferi has her way of doing things, and Sollux has his. They meet in the middle.
Notes: Bloodswap AU - Seadweller Sollux & Rustblood Psionic Feferi
Feferi knows all the sailor’s knots you never bothered to learn. She taught herself from grubtube videos, and now she’s sitting on a sea-damp pier and showing you.
“Over and under,” she says as you watch, “and again, like so.”
You don’t think you’ll ever need this knowledge, but you like the way her hands move as she works, interweaving your red cord and your blue one. Sailing’s her thing, not yours. You just swim. She could, if she wanted, just fly, skimming so close to the waves that the spray catches in her hair, but she built a boat instead. Now she’s teaching you about lines and sails, celestial navigation – dead technology made living. She can do so many things with her mind that she prefers to do with her hands instead.
“Now you!” she says, cheerfully unrelenting. You loop the cords together, over and under, not as deft as her. You’re unused to simple steps first, and you hate feeling clumsy. You still wish she’d guide you through it again, not because you can’t but because you miss the rough heat of her fingers gripping yours.
Never mind that. Your job is to get the basics right. When you can master those, you’ll learn your ocean from her perspective – steering by wind and wheel, racing storms until they catch you.
Fandom: Homestuck
Major Characters/Pairings: Sollux/Feferi
Wordcount: 222 words
Rating: PG
POV: Second person
Summary: Feferi has her way of doing things, and Sollux has his. They meet in the middle.
Notes: Bloodswap AU - Seadweller Sollux & Rustblood Psionic Feferi
Feferi knows all the sailor’s knots you never bothered to learn. She taught herself from grubtube videos, and now she’s sitting on a sea-damp pier and showing you.
“Over and under,” she says as you watch, “and again, like so.”
You don’t think you’ll ever need this knowledge, but you like the way her hands move as she works, interweaving your red cord and your blue one. Sailing’s her thing, not yours. You just swim. She could, if she wanted, just fly, skimming so close to the waves that the spray catches in her hair, but she built a boat instead. Now she’s teaching you about lines and sails, celestial navigation – dead technology made living. She can do so many things with her mind that she prefers to do with her hands instead.
“Now you!” she says, cheerfully unrelenting. You loop the cords together, over and under, not as deft as her. You’re unused to simple steps first, and you hate feeling clumsy. You still wish she’d guide you through it again, not because you can’t but because you miss the rough heat of her fingers gripping yours.
Never mind that. Your job is to get the basics right. When you can master those, you’ll learn your ocean from her perspective – steering by wind and wheel, racing storms until they catch you.