Mel didn't know what to say. Bruce had never been so forthcoming around him, in all the many years he'd served with him on the ship. Hell, he was sure, half the time, that the man barely tolerated him. "What do you mean?" he almost slapped himself at this lackluster response. Look at him, already squandering a rare chance to get to know Bruce better.

But Bruce didn't grunt a "never mind" like he typically would. He sat down heavily, practically rocking the entire ship with the heft of his massive, muscled body. Mel was no small cookie, but he was practically a twig around this man. "I don't have anyone or anything outside this ship, Squirt," he let out a patient sigh. "I have only my name, and every day I march closer to the day where I'm more myth than man."

"You're not that old."

Bruce, miraculously, actually chuckled, a surprisingly pleasant sound from the brutish man. "Old enough that these knees are creakin' and my back makes sounds it ought not to."

Mel grimaced. "That sounds painful."

"That's cause it is."

They sat there. Mel couldn't help but spiral. Why would Bruce share this with him of all people? In their crew, he was always closer to the veterans, like One-Eyed Jack and Russel the Menace. Mel hadn't even managed to get an official nickname before Bruce's humiliating - and strangely enthralling - pet name became his standard ship name.

Bruce leaned back with a grunt, his hands resting on his stomach. His sharp, bearded face was a mask of deep thought, and Mel was scared to even breath wrong an disturb him. He'd seen men get thrown off the ship for less. Other than Captain Oz, Bruce was the ultimate authority.

"Do you..." Mel started, but he choked. God, he was such a coward. If Bruce is a coward, Mel must be a true wimp.

"Say what you gotta say."

That was about as patient of an answer he'd ever get. "Do you ever wonder what life would have been like on a different path? Somewhere on shore? Maybe a different job, a... a family?"

He didn't have enough time to start overthinking again before Bruce replied. "Every day."

Mel sat with that, waiting, twiddling his thumbs.

"But not away from water, nah. I wonder about being in the waters as a nobody. Free as a damn bird, going this place and that with no crew. Just Bruce, no Bruce the Great." He looked at Mel's reddened face and laughed a booming laugh that made Mel's chest squeeze. "Ya think I don't know what they say out there? I hear it all."

Mel shuddered to imagine what Bruce would think if he really heard it all. Especially what he'd gotten around to with one of the low level crewmates, thinking about Bruce's massive hands so desperately he always worried he'd accidentally shout it. He was never sure if his obsession with the co-captain was just his perpetually horny brain, hero worship, or maybe both. He couldn't help but shudder in both fear and excitement every time Bruce commanded a room, or appeared back on deck after a long meeting with the captain. No wonder the crew always whispered he must have multiple lovers at every port.

"You're thinking mighty loud, Squirt."

Mel felt the blush completely swamping him in a rush. "No no, just, thinking about it."

"About what?" Bruce's voice was obviously amused. How much did he know?

"About another life," he finally found the words.

Bruce's face went solemn. "And what about it?"

Mel pulled his knees up and circled his arms around them, hugging them to his body protectively. "It's stupid."

"Ain't stupid if I asked."

Mel looked at him then, finding those stunning dark eyes trained on him. He was so potent up close, he couldn't help but tell him anything he'd ask. "I think I would have liked to have a little fishing boat and a little house, maybe. Nothing... nothing big. I just like the waters, is all. But I don't have that kind of money, so this is home, I think."

Bruce hummed in understanding, and the sound sent a thrill south that made Mel flush again.

"That didn't sound too stupid to me."

Mel had never heard his voice so soft before, so gentle. By Bruce's standards, this was the verbal equivalent of a caress. "Thanks."

They sat there silently, each deep in thought, sneaking looks at each other here and there. The deck was empty, since the crew was downstairs celebrating a successful mission with some wine and meat. Mel had snuck out early, taking the opportunity to have a moment alone with the dark waves. The ocean had always been his home.

"Mel."

Mel's whole body was wracked. He hadn't heard a single soul speak his name in many years. He'd always been an underling, a crewmate, a cog in the water-bound machines he always found his way back to. And here this man, this mighty, brave man - despite his own denial, that is - brought it back from the dead. It was like a seeing a ghost, but more thrilling than terrifying.

"Yes?"

Bruce leaned over and slowly but firmly pried Mel's arms away from his knees. With an assessing look, he used his hold on Mel's wrists to drag him into his lap. He wasn't sure who the stuttered breaths were coming from, but he was too busy absorbing the sudden heat all around him.

"I'm going to kiss you."

"Okay."

"And then I'm going to get you very naked."

"Okay."

Mel's heart was nearly bursting by the time Bruce's massive hand gently moved some of his hair behind his ear. He'd never imagined Bruce could even move like this, like stroking a butterfly.

Bruce smiled. "Okay."

Mel thought, in that moment, that he'd never been more okay in his life.