The Pirate King Ch. 23

I watched him move through the men. I had never been the eye of the storm; I was the winds, the agitator. He was the calm, the peace, the moment of rest. He laughed and joked and found time to wink at me between conversations as he slowly made his way to the kitchen. I tracked his movements until he ducked behind the counter and I could no longer see his form.

When I turned back to Thron, he was watching me with a strange look in his eye. "You really love him, don't you."

"More than life," I answered without hesitation.

"I'm sorry." His apology took me by surprise. "I know how important he is to you. I should have helped you get him back."

"No." I surprised myself as well as Thron with my response. "You were protecting your own. It was right."

"Aye," he said. His eyes wandered across the crew. I watched as they caught on the Russian. He tried a few times to move on and then sat there, drinking the sight of him in as a stranded man drinks salt water, knowing it will kill him. An expression on his face I had seen moments before - half broken. Half healed.

"He would have been fine," I told Thron.

"What?" He started as if I had woken him from sleep.

"The Russian." Color flushed on his neck at the mention of the man's name. "He easily could have faced down the God of Death and lived to speak of it. The man is -" I searched for the right word and landed on, with a sigh of exasperation, "infuriating."

Thron looked down at his hands. "He is a powerful man."

"So are you." Thron made a face, his hands writhing over each other in discomfort. "Why aren't you sitting with him?"

Another face. "It's better."

"It is not. He cares very deeply for you." That face again, this time with a healthy dose of blush. "That man," I reminded him, "stood before the sea and held it at bay. For you."

Thron's face was now very, very red. "I know," he all but whispered. "It makes me so afraid."

"Of him?"

"Of." He snuck another glance at the man's back. "I have never felt like this - not for anyone, anything. Not even close. It's just so much. It's just so very much. And now he's saved my life. And I don't want, I just." He took a deep breath. "I am a very careful person, Ghost. I don't like owing anyone anything. And now this man, this person that I already have all these very complicated feelings for..." He looked up to me, his eyes filled with unfiltered emotion. "How can I exist around him like this? I don't want to owe him my life."

"Believe me." My eyes were on the Captain as he emerged from the kitchen, bowl of food in hand. The sunlight from the kitchen window twined in his hair and made him look as if he were made of light. "You owe him nothing. He did it for himself. Excuse me."

I left Thron sitting there and went to wrap my arms around the smiling, wondrous form of my love.

***

The day was a beautiful one, the sun warming our decks and the wind filling out our sails. Hamms had gathered the Russian and I before anyone else could, making use of our bulk to stack and organize the heavy ropes that had been put to use in the stormy, headlong run north. It was necessary, exacting work and I enjoyed it. Soon we had attracted Ichor and Sneg to our side to help.

We were all absorbed in our tasks when Sneg tapped the Russian's arm. He looked up, drenched in sweat and disoriented from his deep focus. Sneg chinned at the air behind him. "Incoming."

The Russian turned to see a shirtless, sweaty Thron arriving, weighed down with many more ropes for us to clean and coil.

The Russian did not act like a man being given more work. He stood up ram-rod straight, dropping the ropes that were already in his hand. I heard him swear beneath his breath, or at least I believe it to have been a swear. It was a word only for him and the moment he had found himself within. Thron for his part kept his excitement weighed down under the massive numbers of heavy ropes he wore draped over his body. He walked past the Russian to me, placed the ropes one by one at my feet with a precision that made me believe that he was not ready for this task to be over. The last rope went down slowly, carefully. Exactly. He looked up at me and met my eyes, and I saw that there had been much more than excitement held back by his burden.

And then he turned and faced the Russian.

They stood standing face to face for what felt like eternity, simply looking at each other. Neither man said a word. I don't think either of them could. I don't think either of them had to, not with the way the Russian's body dripped worry and Thron's eyes overflowed with need and the way they both spilled love all over the decks and our newly cleaned coils.

They moved at the same time, but the opposite momentum of their twin movements canceled each other out and so then they were frozen there again, twin statues.

Gret came up behind Thron, bearing more ropes. He looked from the Russian to Thron again and again, taking in their still forms. I saw him catch Sneg's eye. They shrugged, and he rolled his eyes then dropped all the ropes he held at once. The noise was loud enough to make Thron look up, his whole body jerking with surprise to find this world still here.

Gret made a quick gesture - get going, get a move on - and Thron made a quicker face before he looked down at his feet. But in the end, Thron moved forward.

The Russian, for a moment, looked as if he might bolt. I carefully moved to one side of him; Sneg and Ichor casually held ground behind him. The ocean was on his other side, pinning him in. But he only looked panicked for as long as it took for Thron to approach him; once they were in the same space, I do not think there was anything that could keep them apart.

Thron spoke softly. The Russian responded. The ocean wind caught their words and took them to a softer, kinder place. Then Thron gently laid his hand on the Russian's arm for the briefest of moments before moving past him and returning to his original task.

Gret hurried after him. His path took him past me and I could hear him muttering about snail's paces. I clapped his shoulder as he moved past, glad he was helping.

When I turned back around I found the Russian staring after the disappearing men. We all quietly went back to work, waiting to see what he would say.

"Well." Sneg had less patience or was perhaps more nosy than the rest of us. "What did he say?"

"He said, thank you." He looked at me, and his gaze was so intense I nearly took a step back. This was the man who held the sea at bay. This was the love that made such an act possible. "Brat, do you know where in the sea I might dive to find the largest, most perfect of the pearls? Nyet, a shipwreck, gold and jewels and - no, he is a pirate, he will have that already, it must be the pearls, do you know where - unless he does not like pearls, do you know if lubov moya, moya zvedna, oh, but he is a star. Do you think I can find a star from the sky to bring him?" The Russian had a wild look in his eye, words spilling from his mouth. His hand covered the spot where Thron had touched him as if he could keep the man's touch against his skin so long after he had gone by.

"Lad," Hamms piped up from across the ropes. "Just get him a kiss. I'm sure he'll be quite happy with that."

The Russian actually looked embarrassed. "We haven't."

"Haven't what?"

"We haven't kissed."

All four of us stopped work to stare at the dangerous man standing embarrassed before us.

"What do you mean, you haven't kissed?" Finn asked.

"Not at all?" Hamms put in. "Not a single time?"

"There are some small kisses - kisses hello, on the cheek, again on the cheek goodbye, I kiss his knuckles when they are chafed and hurting -"

"But you two share a bed." Hamms looked incredulous. Sneg and Ichor had already gone back to work.

"Da, and we cuddle, and sometimes at night when it is dark he - " The Russian broke off, looking embarrassed. His face did not quite know how to make the expression, causing it to look quite comical. "But no, my lips, his lips, we have not kissed."

I asked the only question I cared about. "Why not?"

"Because I - because I love him. I have never loved someone like this before. I think that my soul will come pouring out of my lips, and he will not - ah." There was that unpracticed embarrassed look again. He scratched at the back of his head, wincing.

"You are afraid," I supplied for him.

He took a moment to consider the thought. "Ti prav," he confirmed. "I am terrified."

We all looked across the ship to where Thron was working with Gret and a few others. There was no advice for this; no words to make it easier.

"There are pearls," I told this lost, lovestruck man, "in the Vintel Straights that are black and sparkle like the night sky. They call them star pearls."

The Russian had the look of a man shown a port just as the supplies were running out. "You would lead me there?"

"I can ask the Captain to head there next." I thought for a moment. "They are guarded by very aggressive sea monsters."

The Russian waved his hand dismissively. "Thank you," he said, clasping my arms. "Thank you." And what reason did I have to worry? A sea monster stands no chance against love.

***

"I heard that the Russian speaking to Thron."

I looked up from where I sat reading on the bed. The Captain was finally finished with his maps, so many days out of date. He stood, stretching. "Who told you that?"

"Finn."

Of course it had been Finn. "I told Ivan we would go to the Vintel Straights to find a gift."

"For who?"

For who else? "For Thron."

The Captain scoffed. "There's nothing in those straights but death. And I don't like the way he's pursuing Thron so intensely. It makes Thron uncomfortable."

I had thought Thron had worked through his discomfort. I propped myself up on my arm and watched as the Captain began to get ready for bed. "Did he say as much?"

"Well, no." The Captain pulled his shirt from his body. The sight of his muscled back pulled me from our bed, smiling, my body aching for his touch. "But anyone would be uncomfortable with someone so aggressive after them."

My arms wrapped around his waist and he leaned back into my chest. "Are you uncomfortable when I pursue you?" I asked the skin of his neck.

He hummed happily as I kissed his neck, then pulled away slightly. "But he's different."

Oh his worry, the weight of it pulling those brows down and making him look so beautiful. My fingers traced their way to his hips, and I watched how that movement made those brows lift, his eyes flutter lightly in pleasure. "You're right," I told him. My fingers brushed lightly under the hem of his pants and his breath slipped out from between his lips, hot and scattered. "They have not even kissed yet. You fucked me the very first night you met me." He tilted his head away from me slightly, an invitation I could not resist. He hummed his approval as I bit gently at his ear. "Tied me up and fucked me without even learning my name," I reminded him. A smile spread over his lips at the memory. "Perhaps you are the aggressive pursuer you're warning about."

He spun to face me, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other hand tangling in my hair. "I seem to recall someone begging."

It was my turn to smile. My fingers traced over his back, making him shiver. He hooked his hand into my hem and lightly brushed at the skin just below until his hand rested just over my hardening cock.

"And you don't seem very uncomfortable," he noted. My shudders were passing into his hand and making him dangerous, his eyes narrowing, his smile growing more and more sharp. "Are you?" he murmured, his hand passing again and again over my cock.

I leaned into his hand and closed my eyes. He used the hand in my hair to shake my head slightly, shocking my eyes open.

"Need you to look at me, Sailor." I fell into his eyes. He was building such pleasure in my stomach, such pain, such love, I thought I might burst. There was a playful glint in his eyes that made me nervous and excited. "Need you to tell me if I make you uncomfortable." He moved closer, pressing his own hard cock against mine. I moaned to feel him there, so close, so many layers away. "If you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

"Please, sir." I wanted him, needed him. To feel him hard against me was torture.

But he merely pulled my hair sharply, his smile as dangerous as the knives he usually wore at his side. "Please stop?"

"No, no." Oh gods, no. Anything but that. Another sharp tug. "No, sir," I quickly amended. The smile he wore cut at my stomach and spilled brine into the room. I was in danger of becoming empty and filled all at once, and I wanted it to happen at speed. "Please fuck me, sir."

"No." His denial pulled a small noise of distress from my lungs. The sound landed on his hand, working to untie my breeches with only his five free fingers. I held my breath, afraid any further noise might make his skin slick against the ties.

The Captain was good with knots. He soon had my breeches loosened. I could feel them hanging loose against my hips, the briefest tug from being pulled away.

"I'm not going to fuck you," the Captain told me. He did not pull at my breeches. He did not release me from my torture, but instead loosened his own breeches. "You're going to give me pleasure."

I nodded against the hand in my hair, willing to do anything for this man, aching for his touch against my skin. He kept me in suspense, taking his pants off fully, slowly. I moaned to see him naked before me.

"Now," he murmured. His head dropped to rest on my collarbone. His lips found the skin of my chest, left open in the V of my shirt. He slowly pulled my pants away until my cock was finally free, exposed. The collection of feelings and expectation in my chest forced my breath, ragged and arrhythmic, out of my mouth to tangle in his hair.

He spat in his hand then wrapped it around our cocks. I gasped to feel him against me, pressed together by his grasp.

"Now." He tilted his head back and smiled up at me. The expression made my head spin. "Fuck me."

How could I do anything but what that voice commanded? What else would I ever wish to do? I fucked against his cock slowly, his hand and hips remaining still as I provided the friction we both so desperately needed. His eyes fluttered shut, his mouth turned up in a lazy, dangerous smile.

"I love feeling your cock against mine," he told me. His gaze was ragged, his voice tearing at the edges from the strain of all it attempted to contain. "Love watching you work to give me pleasure."

My hips sped up at his words and he yanked back on my hair, hard. I gasped in pain and he smiled again, my stomach opening, everything he made me feel emptying out only for him to pour more sensation into my soul.

"Keep the pace steady," he commanded. "Or I'll make you stop."

I nodded against his hand and he took the opportunity to shake my head again, knocking noises loose from my tongue. They dripped over my chin, down my neck, where he licked them up. I shook beneath his touch.

"Love the way you fall apart for me," he continued. "Love watching you just fucking fall to bits at the smallest touch." He ran his finger over the head of my cock and I lost my breath as I tried to cry out, causing my whole body to jerk and my lungs to seize. The motion made him smile. I was emptying. I was in danger of overflowing. Oh, the contradictions this man pressed into my body, the ways he allowed me to never have to choose but instead exist as dichotomous, incredible things. I dug my fingers into his skin and he laughed a dangerous, ragged laugh that left me breathless.

"Love the way you lose your words." He was whispering now. Any louder and his words would have flown apart, would have been too much to exist under their own weight. Our cocks rubbed against each other, slow and tortuous. "Love you, Sailor."

"Please." It was the only word I had left.

But the Captain understood what I was saying. "Do you need to cum?"

I nodded furiously, feeling how his hand stayed steady and how his fingers pulled at my hair. That little added sensation nearly put me over the edge; I was lost to him, unable to understand much else but his fingers, his pain, his pleasure. His commands.

And his command was, "No."

I bucked my hips and felt how that pushed a hiss from his lips. "Want you to wait." He bit my neck and I bucked into him again, my body not mine to control. He bit me again, and again, my body shaking beneath him, our cocks slick with the cum I had already leaked. "How long can you hold off for me," he asked my neck, and it was not a question but a command, and it was good I did not have to answer because I did not have words past the noises the friction of his cock against mine was pulling, pushing, pulling from my lips.

He rubbed his finger over the head of my cock again and I half-sobbed from the sensation. "Love making you wait." His voice was breathless, endless. As lost as I was. I could not see his face for he had it buried in my neck, his mouth open to catch the noises dripping down my skin like sweat. "Wait," he whispered, and it was not so much as word as a wish, and I choked on my desire in gasps and felt my body jerk and fight as I obeyed him.

"Please." I did not want this to end; I could not last any longer. "Please, sir. I -"

His hand suddenly moved fast and hard over our cocks; I gasped, doubling over his form. "Come," he commanded. And I came over his stomach, his hand, his cock, my fingers digging into his back, my mouth thanking him with cries of pleasure.

I was not aware of much else than my orgasm, than my emptying, until I was completely drained. When I came back I found the Captain's hand tight in my hair dragging me down. I allowed myself to be guided to one knee, then to be kneeling before him. His cock was hard in my face, smelling of my cum. I moaned and opened my mouth, begging for a taste.

He did not make me wait. His hand worked his cock once, twice, three times and then he came all over my face. I felt his cum hit my skin and closed my eyes in pleasure, a warm shudder growing in my stomach.

When I opened my eyes again he was looking down at me.

I saw him take me in; my mouth open, my eyes soft and happy. His cum splashed across my skin. He reached down and traced over my bottom lip with his thumb as if making sure I were truly there.

I leaned forward slightly and took his thumb in my mouth. I saw the gentle, perfect energy he had placed in me travel up his hand, his wrist, his arm to take root in his body. Watched the way he had made me react so resonantly with all the things he was and how that reaction made his entire body vibrate. Saw the love he carried spread out as myriad as the stars in the sky.

He dropped to his knees in seconds, his lips seeking out mine. I kissed him back, tasting my own need shadowed on his tongue. I know he tasted his on mine. We kissed until there was no difference, his and mine blended and the same and sated.

For now.

He wrapped his arms around my neck. I held him, feeling his weight propped against my shoulders. He was heavy, his body become more and limp as he relaxed into my arms. His head dropped into the crook of my neck and my heart leapt to feel the heat of his breath.

"Let's just sleep on the floor tonight," he told the skin beneath my ear. I smiled and gathered his weight in my arms, my legs, pulling him up with me as I stepped from my pants. He wrapped his legs around my waist, and I carried that perfect man, my night sky, my only love, to bed.

***

Red sails cut against the endless sea horizon. The only other disturbance in this desolate landscape was a dangerous, volcanic island where no man dared go ashore.