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Bridget never really got used to the noise of the mayship, it's constant humming sitting at just the right frequency to upset her ears. The lower decks are always the worst, the magic engines causing the walls to vibrate slightly.
But that wasn't what was on her mind as she stopped in front of the door to May's small room. It was nearing sundown, the time when she and her friend would meet up and talk about their days on busy days when they didn't get to see each other.
Bridget knocked on the wooden door of May's room. Normally she wouldn't feel the need to, may and her had been close for years and they were both more than comfortable in each other's space, not to mention that Bridget slept in May's room during her trips aboard the mayship. Tonight and the past few days were different, however, because of May's current exploration of his gender and more importantly, him coming out to the rest of the crew. Bridget understood the pressure and self-doubt that can come with that, and so, she knocked.
May’s answer was swift, he had been waiting for his friend for a while and was in desperate need of her presence.
“Bridget? The door’s unlocked, come in.”
Bridget nodded, and then fell silly afterwards, realizing that no one could see her, so she opened the door instead.
May's room was what most people would expect, the small space made to feel even smaller by the amount of plushies and memorabilia covering the floor and walls. The singular porthole window sat at the far end of the rectangular room, providing a view of the nighttime clouds below the ship.
May was sitting in his orange beanbag chair at the far end of the room, under the window. The matching blue chair sitting next to it, waiting for Bridget. May himself was quiet, fidgeting with his hoodie as he looked up at his companion.
Bridget stripped off her hoodie as she walked the few steps to her seat, throwing it on the top bunk of the bunkbed that took up a third of the room. She plumped down onto the soft beans of her chair, letting out a sigh as she did, although her gaze never left her friend.
“Heya, Anchor. What you been up to?” Bridget was sincere in her question, but was also clearly tired, a day on the mayship more work than she was used to.
May smiled slightly at her nickname for him, she had been calling him that since he came out because of his uncertainty about his name. But the smile quickly left his face. Today had not been a good day, but, despite him knowing that Bridget wouldn't mind, he didn't want to burden her with his problems.
He shifted in his seat, facing Bridget as he replied.
“Just the usual stuff, but… I don't know, it's not important.”
Bridget knew something like this would happen, she had had it happen to her after all, and May’s predicament was even more complex than hers. She could tell May was feeling off from the moment she saw him, but she had been willing to let him talk to her in his own time. She didn't want to force him to tell her anything, but she was willing to prod him to help him open up.
“You know you can tell me about it, silly, that's what this time’s for.” Bridget crisscrossed her legs, creating a platform perfect to sit on, and gently patted her lap. “Cuddles?”
“I don't know. Don't you think things like that are… too girly for a guy?” May was clearly uncomfortable at this point, rubbing the back of his neck and speaking softly.”I- I can’t do stuff like that now, sorry.”
Bridget's eyes softened even more than they already had; she had struggled with this problem back in her early bounty-hunting days, when she was trying to prove herself as a man. Trying to avoid all the things that could make people see her as a girl, even if she liked them, and she knew May liked cuddling.
“No, silly. Cuddling isn't just for girls, and even if it was, doing it doesn't make you one. Look at your room, Anchor, most of the things you love are “girly”, but that doesn't mean anything, You're still you. I thought of myself as a guy for years, but that never changed the fact that I like feminine things, and now, as a girl, I still love fighting, something most people would call a man's sport.” Bridget kept her legs crossed, open for May to join her, but she didn't prod May further, letting him decide.
“Yeah, but.” May sighed again, knowing Bridget was right but still not wanting to accept her words, “People won't see it that way, they’ll just see a girl when they look at me.”
“Maybe they will, but you're not a girl, and other people can't change that. Other people are no reason to not do the things you love, silly.” Bridget reached over the short gap between them, booping May on his nose. “You’re a boy, and the only person who can decide otherwise is you, understand?”
May batted her hand away playfully, the smile returning to his face. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, and you’re probably right, Yoyo, I can't deny your lap looks very appealing right now.” With some hesitance, May shifted himself onto Bridget's lap, his back against her chest and his head leaning back on her shoulder.
Bridget grinned, wrapping her soft arms around his chest. “I knew you couldn't resist me for long, I'm way too cute for any mere mortal.”
May huffed at her comment, and even with his eyes closed, she could tell he was rolling them. “Sure, sure, like you’re not the one who asked first. I could tell you were close to grabbing one of our plushies to cuddle out of desperation.”
“Hey, fluffydragon the VII Needs its cuddles too!”
“Careful, Roger might get jealous at this rate.” May yawned at the end of his sentence, the warmness of Bridget's body combined with the day he had making him sleepy earlier than normal.
“Come on, let's move this to your bed, I don't want you passing out on top of me.” Bridget pushed May’s back lightly, and he got up, although not without a groan of protest. “It's only like half a meter, come on.” She got up after him, barely having to walk before falling into May’s bed, most of the space taken up by plushies. May was soon to join her, the thump of his body into the soft mattress beside her and the way his arms found her as his legs intertwined with her’s a giveaway to how tired he was. “G’night Baggett.”
“Good night, and sleep well, Anchor.”