Mr.Sailor! | Sunjake

𝗦 𝗖 𝗘 𝗡 𝗘 | 𝟲

This week is the last for Fiorello to cover their (injured) employee's shift, and he was giddy, but what incited Fiorello to dance around the kitchen, humming a song in their house, or daydream was the town's annual Summer Solstice festival. It was fast approaching and everyone in town is buzzing about what food they'll bring to the town center, what offerings they'll offer to the goddess, and lastly, what will they design the town center. It was the talk around the town and it's also affecting the younger generation because of the annual activities that will happen during the festival. The festival's annual feast (which is a staple that everyone regardless of age is looking forward to), the Goddess' offerings and prayers, the Narcissus' courtship dance (which the teenagers are looking forward to), and lastly the drinking feast.

The Kims are also helping set up the town center, and by that sweeping off the sand that managed to etch themselves on the gaps of the cobblestoned plaza. Well, everyone is taking an active part in beautifying and perfecting the entire town plaza for the Summer Solstice festival; Fiorello took the active role and carrying the cleaning materials and whatnot to the town center, and he's regretting it every minute as the stuff are heavy for his flimsy arms, he's not built for carrying crates full of steel-handled brooms, dustbins, and water hoses.

Trudging down the familiar twist and turns of the town, Fiorello's forehead is mounting with sweat, and his pursed lips and a frown are patched on his face. "One more roundtrip back to our house. I'm ditching this role."

Fiorello was carrying a crate full of table cloths with different embroidery designed on it—as his mom and her friends deemed so. He was shuffling the stuff inside the crate, the straw for the pennant flags is dragged on the road, and he doesn't give flying doves in fixing it because it will be hung on the rooftops of the stores and houses around the town anyway. If his friends weren't busy as well, he might have asked for a hand in carrying these, it ain't easy labor of going through 4 up and downs, 5 twists and turns, and 20 streets to their house and to the town center. Jungwon is currently cleaning the muck on the fountain's centerpiece and he's also tasked to clean out the rusted quarters' residue in the fountain's water, Renjun is also busy helping the sailors (Jeno in particular) in fastening the pinnaces safely and also cleaning out the docks from the barnacles that have taken a liking in living on the dock's catwalk, and Salvios. . . he doesn't know what the boy is doing and where the boy is, he hasn't seen him the entire morning.

Fiorello sat on a bench right in front of the seawall for viewing. His legs are now sore and his feet are aching. He grumbled, he carelessly placed the crate on the space beside him. He stretched his whole body and promised himself to rest for five minutes before resuming his journey.

"I'm never taking this job again. I would rather be drenched in the fountain's water while cleaning it than this tiring job."

"Belle!"

Fiorello whipped his head around and saw Salvios running towards him, sporting a wide grin and wearing a muscle tee, a towel wrapped around his forehead, with heavy jeans. Yes, Fiorello froze at the sight of his friend there donned in the most skinful attire. Fiorello's eyes can't help but stare at Salvios' biceps. He is a young teenager, he can't help but admire the evident muscles there and add the oil smudges in the mix, the boy looks like a sinful feast.

Fiorello bit his tongue. He screamed internally, he punched himself internally. He's ashamed to lust over his friend. He doesn't know why, but these days he's been admiring the boy's visuals and muscles and everything the boy does: Eros running his tongue across his lips, Eros smiling at every nonsensical thing, and Eros happily sharing his fishing stories every day (ever since they've been friends for), Eros happy to collect a new Pepsi sticker, Eros sharing information about the constellations.