The blond was jostled awake by Dusty’s attempts to rise out of bed. Caelan opened his eyes, but did not move, instead choosing to watch the man from where he lay. He drew the blankets closer to himself, shivering as a cold breeze blew across the floor of the shack after Dusty disappeared outside. Even without the brief opening of the door, Caelan could still hear the rain and the blustering winds as they threatened to beat down the very structure around them. He knew they were safe in this ramshackle little outpost. The walls were made out of a mismatch of logs, expertly arranged in a manner that took the best advantage of the wood's strength.<br/><br/>Dusty moved in and out of the shelter, emerging and re-emerging, soaked to the bone. Caelan kept his eyes on the man. He stayed silent and out of the way, trying not to antagonize him. The last thing they needed was a repeat of the night before, especially while their surroundings sounded as angry as the pair did last night. He needed to stay on Dusty’s good side until they were back in the city.<br/><br/>However, that didn’t mean that Caelan was comfortable with the discomfort he felt.<br/><br/>“I’m sorry for last night.” Caelan sat up on the pad, blankets draped over his shoulders. “I won’t make excuses for my behavior. I shouldn’t have hit or spoken to you that way and I apologize.” The sight of Dusty standing in just his boxers next to the fire reminded Caelan of their clothes. He glanced around the shack and was not a bit surprised to find their clothes were missing. Caelan shrugged the blankets from his shoulders and got to his feet. “I would apologize properly, but, understandably, I don’t think that you want me near you right now,” he commented, voice leveled as he glanced at Dusty, “So I will go outside and get our clothes from the boat.” Dusty had retrieved what he deemed important - alcohol and cigarettes - and Caelan guessed it was his responsibility to do the same if they had any hope for dry clothes by the end of the day.<br/><br/>He stepped outside and instantly regretted his decision. Their clothes needed to come in to dry. He wasn’t going to leave Dusty to stand around in his boxers for the rest of the day. Caelan threw himself into the rain and jogged down the muddy path in just his bare feet and jeans. He slowed as he neared the rickety dock, his fears getting the best of him for a fleeting moment. He crossed the dock and all but slid into the flat bottom boat, falling on his ass. Caelan shielded his eyes from the pelting rain and squinted through the droplets until he found their clothes. The boat had begun to gather rainwater. Their clothes were a soaking mess as he gathered them into his arms and ran back to the shelter.<br/><br/>Caelan paused on the porch, heart pounding. He wrung the water out of Dusty’s jeans and his shirt and boxers and pushed into the shelter. The door nearly flung out of his grasp and he shut it close, standing firmly against the wood while he took a moment to catch his breath. “The sky is almost black. I don’t see the storm passing soon.” Caelan grabbed a chair on his way to the stove, turning the back of it towards the radiating heat. “That should give time for these to dry.” He draped Dusty’s jeans over the chair back and fetched another to hang up his shirt and boxers. His jeans were soaked and dirty now, but he didn’t have any options for not wearing them. Exchanging wet jeans for wet boxers made little sense.