It’s strange. In moments like these, Alecto almost believes he could be happy here. In Joshua’s bed, against his warm skin, Alecto nearly forgets about the roaring tide that calls his name, urging him back home. He forgets, with Joshua’s arms around him, the salty embrace of the waves.

“Mm?” He blinks his big eyes up at him, nuzzling him in return, a hand coming up to rest against that strong, chiseled jaw. He uses that touch to gently turn Joshua’s face so they could look at each other. There is an intense and charged moment of intimacy here, and Alecto’s skin warms. “Truly, I should be the one thanking you. For all your help, your patience, your…kindness,” he responds. “I don’t have very many skills or value here on the land so keeping your home warm and clean is the least I can think of doing.” His thumb is gentle in how it traces the curve of Joshua’s cheekbone.

“Are you,” he begins, his hand sliding down the slope of Joshua’s neck to his shoulder, not clear exactly what he hopes to get out of this moment, “sure there’s nothing else I can give you?”