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Waves crashed over the rocks, booming so loud it carried up to the top of the tower. Tango flicked the lamp on, watching as the light carried for miles out, even against the raging storm outside. He smiled to himself, clapping his hands like he was dusting them off, it wasn’t the most exciting thing, living out on this rock, but he was proud of his creation. This little fishing town didn’t have a lighthouse before him and now it did!
He watched the beam for a few minutes before descending back down the stairs to the living quarters. It was still pretty early, despite the darkness outside and he could tinker for ages on his smaller projects, or he could try finalizing those designs for a redstone powered boat. It would help a ton in getting to the mainland during high tide instead of waiting for the land bridge to be uncovered during low tide.
First thing first was coffee, though he probably will regret it by the time he actually wanted to go to bed. He padded into his kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove.
There was a knock at the door.
He froze. Head immediately swiveling to the front door. It was latched, to keep the wind from blowing it in, and that was genuinely the only reason because there was no possible way for a person to be at his door right now. Not with how the storm that was churning the water like it owed the sky money.
Perhaps it wasn’t a knock, perhaps something had just been thrown out of the water and clattered against his door.
Except the sound repeated, not a hearty bang or bounce off, but several quick raps. Definitely sounded like it was a hand.
He rushed over to the door, hand grabbing onto the latch. Part of him was petrified, that someone wholly unhuman was going to be standing on the other side, a spectre of the sea ready to drag him down the rocks and slip him into the sea. The rational part, that didn’t believe in heebie-jeebie nonsense, was genuinely concerned that a person had been tossed onto his island and must be half dead.
The latch was flown to the side and the door pulled open. What faced him was neither spectre nor half-dead, but a perfectly fit blonde man, completely soaked, with a only a fur coat thrown over his shoulders. And by ‘only a coat’, Tango meant, only a coat . The only thing keeping the man covered was a layer of fur that was being blown around in the wind.
The man grinned, his canines noticeably sharp, “Hello! Can I come in?”
Tango blinked several times, just in case this was a hallucination, before nodding and stepping to the side. The entered, dripping sea water onto his hard wood floors, and making quick work of familiarizing himself with Tango’s home by running his hand over each and every thing he came to.
“Um, hey,” Tango said, finally able to speak instead of just using his mouth to catch flies, “Are you okay? What happened to you?”
The stranger turned to him, head tilted curiously, “What do you mean?”
“You’re– You’re here. On my rocky island, soaking wet. Did your… boat crash nearby? Should I be radioing out? Is there anyone else that–”
He shook his head, “Oh, no, it’s alright. I wasn’t on a boat. I swam. Though, probably shouldn’t have in this weather. That’s one killer storm,” he chuckled.
“You swam ?” Tango squeaked, “In that thing?”
“This thing?” the man repeated, pulling at the edges of his coat (Tango quickly averted his gaze to avoid seeing any bits ). “Do you like it?”
“I– Uh– Yeah?” Tango stuttered, refusing to turn his head back but looking over the coat (AND NOTHING ELSE) through the corner of his eye.
It was this pretty grey-blue spotted fur, almost like a harbor seal but with significantly more fluff. It looked seamless, so different from the multiple swatches of fur he’s seen in other animal coats. It draped around his feet where sea water was pooling.
“Want it?” The man asked, already slipping it off his shoulders.
Tango’s eyes widened and he quickly moved to stop him, pulling the coat up and around him, covering everything properly. “Not right now! Nope! Let’s– Let’s get you some proper clothes and then we’ll set the coat aside to dry. Yeah? Sound good?”
He pouted, as if not getting to be naked in a stranger’s home was the most disappointing thing that’s happened to him all week. “You’ll take it then?”
“Uh... sure? You trying to get rid of it?”
“No! No, I want you to have it,” He insisted, seemingly put off by the lack of positive response, “The stories made it seem like this would be easier…”
“ Stories? ” Tango questioned, mouth gaping, “What stories? Are– Are people on the mainland painting up fairytales about me now? That I– what–? That I take coats off people?”
“Not on the mainland, but the– the stories! About men taking coats. Usually they steal them off rocks, I thought the whole process would be easier like this . Clearly, I should have just set my coat out on the rocks for you!” The man huffed.
“I don’t steal coats off rocks ,” Tango said aghast, shaking his head, “I don’t know what stories you’re hearing but they’re certainly not about me. Let’s– Let’s just get you cleaned up, okay?”
“Fine! Mr.‘I-don’t-steal-coats’. Unbelievable.”
“Tango is fine,” He sighed, taking the stranger by the arm and leading him to the washroom, “Just call me Tango.”
“Jimmy. You’re one strange man, Tango,” he replied, leaning into the touch and getting the sleeve of Tango’s shirt soaked.
Tango squawked, “I’m the strange one? Me strange!?”
“Yes,” Jimmy answered.
He leaves Jimmy in the washroom, only coming back to slip some of his looser shirts and pants through the door. He goes back to making coffee and then also two microwave dinners.
When jimmy comes back, he’s dressed and sans coat. Tango sets out the dinners on the table and pulls the chair out for him, “Letting you coat dry?”
Jimmy smiled at him, something mischievous, and didn’t answer.