Chapter Text
They do, unfortunately, catch up with Stede’s ship.
Edward, glowering, sends Izzy over in the dinghy to get Stede and bring him aboard for a talk. Stede flatly refuses, saying that Edward can come to him if he wants to talk. Izzy relays the message, and Edward shouts a lot and waves his hands and in the end suggests they meet on neutral ground, noting that there’s a small, uninhabited island nearby. Izzy rows back to the Royal James once more to relay the message, which Stede agrees to, albeit sulkily. Izzy notices that every single member of Stede’s crew is there, save for the three still on Ed’s ship. He carefully avoids looking at Black Pete.
When Izzy gets back to the Revenge, Edward is still glowering, stomping around with an anxious energy. They set sail, and the island comes into sight not long after, a lonely little spit of land, rocks and dunes with scattered grass and a handful of trees. Edward paces on the deck as they approach. His gaze lands on Jim, Frenchie, and Lucius, who stand in a knot on the poop deck, looking longingly at the other ship. Edward waves toward them. “Izzy, tie those three up. They’re not to leave the ship until I allow it. Explicitly. Understand?”
“Edward…” They’re already on the ship. They won’t be going to the island. Is it necessary to tie them up? Is it necessary to make it happen at Izzy’s command? Has Edward learned of what has transpired between Izzy and Lucius? Is that why this is happening?
Blackbeard glares at Izzy. “If you can’t do your duty as first mate, I’ll find someone who can.”
“Yes, boss,” Izzy says. He is surprised the old flicker of excitement doesn’t rouse in him at this glimmer of the man Edward used to be. But all he feels is hollow and rather numb.
He calls Fang and Ivan over, tells them to get the rope. He leads them to the poop deck and gives the command. Lucius looks at him like Izzy has cut his heart from his chest. Perhaps he has.
“Boss?” says Fang, looking at Lucius.
“You heard me,” replies Izzy. “Blackbeard wants them bound. Tie them up, and tie them to the mast. They’re not to go anywhere.”
Lucius’s eyes are bright. “Izzy.” His voice is soft and broken.
Izzy turns away.
He accompanies Edward to the island, and they discover when they get there that Oluwande has accompanied Stede as well. Stede has, of all things, brought a tent. A fucking tent. Why did he even have a tent on a ship? So Izzy is obliged to work alongside Oluwande setting it up. Oluwande casts him many vicious glances, but under Edward’s steely gaze, he doesn’t say anything.
Finally, the tent is in place. Edward tells Izzy to head back to the ship, and to stay there until he’s signaled. He and Stede head inside the tent.
Izzy looks at the tent, then out across the water at the two ships anchored so near each other. Perhaps Pete will simply jump overboard and swim to the Revenge, find Lucius, and cut him free.
Actually… now that Izzy thinks about it, Edward said nothing of refusing others coming aboard. “Oluwande,” he says.
Oluwande glares coldly at him. He supposes he deserves that.
“Go back to your ship,” says Izzy. “Get Pete. Both of you come over to the Revenge in the dinghy.”
“Why the fuck would I—”
Izzy rolls his eyes. “Are you dense? I’m not going to offer again.”
Oluwande glares for a moment more, then Izzy’s plan dawns on him. “Oh.” He squints, as if trying to find the catch.
Izzy growls, turns away, and gets into the dinghy. He’s done what he can. No one can expect more of him.
Back aboard the Revenge, Izzy finds Fang deep in conversation with Lucius. Fang startles at Izzy’s approach, and his eyes go wide as Izzy draws his sword. “Boss,” he begins, holding his hands up, but Izzy brushes past him. One swipe at the mast is all it takes. The ropes fall away from the three captives.
Lucius looks up, his brow crinkled. “What…?”
Izzy scowls. “You’re still not to leave. But…” He sighs. “The captain may be occupied for some time. You’re not our prisoners. I’m not keeping you bound.”
Jim is squinting at him. Frenchie is rubbing his wrists. Lucius’s eyes are wide. Fang and Ivan are simply blinking at him. Izzy can’t even muster the energy to yell at them to stop. All will become clear soon enough.
And it does. One of the crew spots the dinghy first and calls it out, and the others rush to the railing. By the time it draws up to the ship, Lucius is sobbing openly, and even Jim looks stricken. Oluwande and Pete clamber aboard. Izzy is vaguely aware of Oluwande throwing himself at Jim. He’s too busy watching Lucius grab Pete and pull him to him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Lucius’s body shakes with sobs. They both pull away to look at each other, as if they can’t believe the other is real, then wrap themselves around each other again.
Izzy’s throat burns. His chest feels tight. His head pounds. Jim and Oluwande dash down the ladder, heading for the cabin they once shared. Pete and Lucius follow. Izzy doesn’t know where they’re going. He doesn’t care.
He doesn’t care.
He doesn’t.
He sits on the main deck, polishing his sword. Then he makes a round to check knots in the rigging. He polishes his sword again. He doesn’t think about what’s happening belowdecks. He doesn’t think about Lucius burying himself inside Pete. He doesn’t think about the two of them lying together and talking. About Izzy. About how he left Pete to die. About how easily Lucius seduced him. Twice.
“Boss.” Ivan’s voice snaps Izzy out of his reverie. Ivan is looking at Izzy’s hands. He’s rubbed his sword so hard the cloth has split. His hand is bleeding.
“Fuck.” Of fucking course.
He climbs down the ladder without thinking. Habit guides his steps, sending him to the ship’s store of bandages. He forgot what was happening on the lower decks. The loud sound of moaning echoes off the walls.
That’s Oluwande’s voice. Right? Has to be. Not Pete. Definitely not Lucius.
This last thought strikes him hard in the chest. He knows it’s not Lucius. He knows it in his bones. Because he knows exactly how Lucius sounds when he moans with pleasure.
Izzy makes a fist, digging the fingers of his hand into the cut he’s opened there. The sting of it clears his thoughts. A bandage. That’s why he’s here.
He gets the bandage and goes back up to the main deck, walking quickly so that he doesn’t overhear anything else. The rest of the crew give him a wide berth. He supposes he can’t blame them, given the blood trail he’s dripping behind him.
He wraps his hand and sits. He doesn’t think about Lucius below with Pete. He doesn’t think about Edward in the tent with Stede. He doesn’t think about anything.
He wishes he still drank. He supposes he could start again. But he’s never made good decisions when his mind was clouded by drink, and lots of bad decisions seem to be tugging at him at the moment. Best to leave that alone.
As the sun is sinking below the horizon, Fang comes up beside him. “That was a good thing you did, boss,” he says. Izzy growls at him. “Right,” Fang says with a sigh. “Just thought you should know. You’ve changed a bit, you know?” He takes a step to leave, then turns back. “Lucius has been good for you.”
Izzy’s head whips around to watch him as he walks away. What the fuck did that mean? Izzy is tempted to call Fang back, make him explain himself, but he’s also terrified of what he might say. How much does Fang know? If he knows as much as Izzy fears he does, how did he find out? Izzy has long suspected something was happening between Fang and Lucius. Bad enough he can’t stop picturing Lucius with Pete. He doesn’t want to add Fang to the mix.
Izzy spends the night on the deck, glaring at the moon and not sleeping a wink.
By midmorning the next day, nothing has changed substantially. There’s still no sign of Lucius and Pete, or Jim and Oluwande, for that matter. Edward and Stede have not emerged from the tent. The crew sit, mostly idle, anxiously tending to small tasks. Blackbeard’s crew aren’t used to idleness. They don’t seem to know what to do with it.
As the sun reaches its zenith, a shot rings out from the island. Izzy is on his feet in a flash, in the dinghy rowing toward the island in moments. There’s no movement on the beach, just the tent, fabric flapping a bit in the breeze. Izzy grounds the dinghy and approaches the tent. “Edward?”
“Izzy.” Edward’s voice issuing from inside the tent is calm. Is he sitting in there with Stede’s body? How can he be so calm about it?
Izzy pushes open the tent flap. Stede is not remotely dead. He’s not even hurt. There’s no sign that anyone has been shot. Izzy looks at Edward. “I heart a gunshot.”
“Told you I’d signal you,” Edward replies. “Bring us some food and drink, would you? Been here awhile.”
Izzy mentally chides himself. If he hadn’t been so caught up in stewing over Lucius, he would have thought to bring provisions himself. “Rum?”
“Nah, tea. Thanks, mate.” He waves a hand to dismiss Izzy.
Right. Despite the fact that Izzy knows he should have done this already, he can’t help but feel a bit like an errand boy, fetching refreshments for the grownups. Nevertheless, he grits his teeth, rows back to the ship, and loads up a crate with supplies from the galley. He can’t block out the noises from the cabins as he heads toward the ladder. That moan? That’s definitely Lucius.
Without giving it much thought, Izzy goes back to the galley and loads a second crate. He takes both back up to the main deck and puts them in the dinghy. “Ivan!” he barks.
“Yes, boss?” Ivan comes to stand beside him.
“You’re in charge. If you hear a gunshot, get to the island right away. Understood?”
Ivan knits his brow. “Where will you be?”
“Not your concern.” Izzy drops into the dinghy and lowers it, cutting off any more stupid questions.
He drops off Edward’s supplies, receiving hardly more than a glance in thanks. So he goes back to the dinghy, grabs the second crate, and begins walking.
The island isn’t large, but it still takes a few hours to cross it. Izzy’s progress is somewhat slowed by hauling the stupid crate. If he’d stopped for even one minute to think, he’d have had the presence of mind to bring a bag of some sort.
But that was the problem. He couldn’t think. Not on the ship where Lucius and Pete were so clearly lost in each other, not on the beach where one glance inside the tent showed him Edward and Stede were heading that way. Here, at least, he can get some peace.
He finally makes it to the beach on the opposite side of the island. Dusk is drawing near, so he gathers a bit of wood to make a fire, then sits next to its warmth as the light begins to fade. He’s brought plenty of food but he finds he’s not hungry. Funny, that. He can’t actually remember the last time he ate.
He wonders if he’ll be missed. Perhaps he’ll just stay here, his absence hardly noticed, and Edward and Stede will work out their differences, or they won’t, and either way the ships will weigh anchor and sail away, and Izzy will be left behind.
As, perhaps, he should be. His role on the ship has shrunk to an errand boy and messenger. The crew not only don’t need him, they’ve been working better without his guidance the past few weeks. Edward clearly has no real use for him. Anyone can run messages and tend to small errands. Everything Izzy has spent his life becoming, everything he’s built, has vanished like foam on the sea. He doesn’t understand how it all came apart so quickly, but he can’t keep pretending everything is fine, everything is the same as it’s always been.
Perhaps he’ll simply stay here, letting his provisions dwindle, until he finally fades away. It won’t much matter. He won’t be missed.
“There you are.”
Izzy startles violently at the voice. He didn’t hear anyone coming. Are the waves that loud?
But that voice. “Lucius?”
“Yeah?” Lucius walks into the glow cast by the fire. “Who were you expecting, your fairy godmother?”
Izzy blinks. “Wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“Mm, yeah. You know, you’ve really gotta stop running away the moment things don’t go the way you want. It’s very childish.” He puts his hands on his hips. “Mind if I sit down?”
Izzy waves vaguely, and Lucius sits beside him. Quite close, in fact, although not so close they’re touching. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the ship?” Izzy asks.
“Aren’t you?” Lucius counters.
Izzy sighs. “What are you doing here?”
“Well.” Lucius sighs. “Like I said, you’re acting like a teenager, stomping off and hoping someone comes after you. I really shouldn’t have done it, I don’t want to encourage this behavior. Haven’t used that tactic since I was seventeen, and you’re older than I am, for fuck’s sake.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did.” Lucius levels a gaze at him. “Let’s just accept that part and move on. I did come out to find you, because I know you won’t talk to anyone else. So let’s talk. Why did you run off?”
“I didn’t—”
“Iz.”
It’s not as bad as if he used Izzy’s full name, at least, but it does turn something over deep inside Izzy. He takes a deep breath. Lucius can always see right through him. Why try to hide? “You… I…” Christ, why does the boy always insist on talking? Not like he doesn’t already know the answer. But he’s staring at Izzy, his expression open and inviting. Izzy sighs. “Pete came back.”
Lucius smiles broadly, and Izzy’s heart breaks just a bit. “Yeah. Heard you had something to do with that, actually. Is that true?”
Izzy presses his lips together and looks away. He doesn’t regret it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
But Lucius takes Izzy’s chin in his fingers and pulls Izzy’s face back. “That was really good of you, Izzy. Truly kind and selfless. I’m both grateful and impressed.”
Izzy grimaces. “When I saw he was alive, I… I don’t know. I suppose I felt I needed to earn your forgiveness.”
Lucius nods. “You already had my forgiveness. But I can see how you would feel you needed to make amends. Whatever the reason, I’m very, very glad you did it.”
Izzy scoffs. “Yeah, I heard exactly how glad you were.”
“What?” Lucius blinks at him, then leans back. “Oh. Oooooohhhh. I see. Didn’t expect we’d get here this quickly, actually, but this is good. Great, even.”
Izzy scowls at the ground. “Don’t see what’s so great about it.”
Lucius scoots closer to him. “You’ve just told me the real reason you left. It’s not because Pete came back. It’s because you’re jealous that Pete came back and I went off with him.”
Izzy just keeps staring at the ground. Obviously he’s jealous. And it irks him to no end. It’s not like he and Lucius are involved. They’ve had sex a couple of times. So what? Izzy has had sex with plenty of people, many of whom he never even saw again. So why should he care who else Lucius fucks? He knew even before the first time that Lucius was with Pete and had most likely fucked every other person on the ship. (Except Blackbeard, of course. Right? Probably.) Yet there it is, a twist in his gut every time he thinks about Lucius touching someone else, kissing someone else, coming inside someone else.
“Izzy, look at me,” Lucius says, and Izzy, as ever, is unable to resist a direct command, damn him. He turns his head, meeting Lucius’s firelit eyes. “Whatever does or doesn’t happen between me and Pete, or between me and anyone else for that matter, has no effect on what I feel about you.”
Izzy snorts. “Sure it doesn’t. You’re being in love with Pete doesn’t change anything between us?”
“How could it?” Lucius replies. “I was already in love with Pete before you and I ever had sex.”
“But now he’s back,” insists Izzy. “Now you’ll be with him. You don’t need me.” No one does, he adds silently.
Lucius reaches out, takes Izzy’s hand, his fingers cool and soft. He holds it gently, mindful of the bandage. “I’ll be with him, you’re right. That doesn’t mean I can’t also be with you.”
Izzy wants to jerk his hand out of Lucius’s grip, wants to stand and walk away, wants this conversation never to have happened. This isn’t how things work. Either you fuck someone and it’s meaningless or you fuck someone and put your whole heart into it. And if someone has your whole heart, how can you give it to anyone else?
But Izzy is still sitting here, still letting Lucius hold his hand. Lucius is gently stroking it now, running his thumb back and forth over the bandage. “Don’t lie to me,” Izzy says. “I don’t know what your game is here, but I’ll not be a pawn in it.”
Lucius sighs deeply. “Have I ever lied to you? Even once?”
Izzy turns away. “Everyone lies. Everyone.”
Lucius tugs on Izzy’s hand until he turns back to him. “I’m not lying. What will it take to show you I mean it? To convince you that I like you, that I want to be with you, that I care about you?”
“You’ll show your true colors in time. Eventually, the truth will out.”
“Time, then?” Lucius moves closer so that their hips touch, legs pressed together. “Time would show you that I’m serious? If enough time passes and I’ve done nothing to hurt you, I haven’t abandoned you or laughed at you or left you to fend for yourself, that would convince you that I meant what I said?”
It won’t happen. Eventually, the facade will crack, showing Izzy what truly lies beneath all these honeyed words. He tries to imagine a future where it doesn’t. Where they continue as they have, Lucius tearing down Izzy’s defenses and pushing him to heights of pleasure he didn’t know existed. He can’t fathom it. That future doesn’t exist. “I can’t see that happening.”
“Try.” Lucius laces his fingers through Izzy’s. Izzy knows he should resist the sweetness that settles over him at this, steel his heart against its willingness to melt. But Christ, it’s still nice to feel cherished. Lucius pulls Izzy toward him. “Give me time. Let me show you I mean it.”
Izzy shakes his head. “You can’t.”
“Izzy.” Lucius’s voice is soft. “Do you believe I love Pete?”
Izzy grimaces. “Of course.”
“And where am I right now? Who am I with?”
Izzy looks up into Lucius’s eyes. There must be a lie hidden there somewhere, a trick, a trap lying in wait. But all he sees are Lucius’s wide pupils, his gaze searching Izzy’s face, now dropping to his lips. Izzy knows where Lucius is leading, just as he knows he should run from it before he falls any deeper into it.
But he also knows there’s no place for him on the ship anymore. No room in the life Edward is busy planning with Stede in the tent. No command over a crew who don’t need it. If he has nothing to go back to, why not let himself have this one last enjoyable experience? Why not let himself drown in the tender ecstasy Lucius offers before he walks away from it all?
So he leans forward and presses his mouth to Lucius’s.
Lucius draws in a breath in surprise, but then opens his mouth to let Izzy’s tongue in. Izzy turns his body toward Lucius, opening himself to him. Lucius reaches up to wrap his fingers around Izzy’s neck, stroking his thumb with his jaw as he slides his tongue into Izzy’s mouth. Izzy feels the knot in his chest begin to form, the pressure building that always precedes the flood that follows anytime he’s with Lucius like this.
But Lucius breaks the kiss and pulls away. Izzy leans after him, but Lucius puts a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back. “Izzy,” he says, “not that I don’t love kissing you, I do, but I don’t feel like we’ve settled this. I don’t want to rush into something if you’re not actually okay.”
There it is. Izzy’s body goes numb and cold. There’s the lie, the crack in the facade, already laying it bare. It was all words, all empty, meaningless words. Lucius doesn’t want Izzy. He wants, what, to punish Izzy for what he did to Pete? Make him watch as Lucius and Pete find delirious happiness in each other, while Izzy is left alone and unwanted?
Fuck that. Fuck all of this. If Lucius doesn’t want him, Izzy doesn’t want Lucius. He shoves him away, staggering to his feet. “Fuck off, then,” he says.
“What?” Lucius’s brow wrinkles. “Wait, what’s wrong?”
“Leave me the fuck alone,” Izzy spits. He turns and begins walking away.
“Izzy!” The noise of Lucius scrambling to his feet sounds behind him. “Goddammit Izzy, stop!”
The command halts Izzy’s steps. He fumes, pushes against his own desire to obey, wills himself to keep walking. But Lucius has caught up to him and grabbed his wrist.
“Please,” Lucius says, tugging Izzy’s wrist even as he steps around him to look him in the face. “I don’t understand. What happened? Why are you so upset?”
“Why?” Izzy glares at him. “Because you say all those sweet things, you lie right to my face about how much you care about me and how I should let you do it, and then you immediately push me away the very moment I decide to be with you again.”
“What?” Lucius looks bewildered. “No, that’s not—”
“Fuck. Off.” Izzy yanks his wrist out of Lucius’s grasp and continues walking.
“Fuck,” Lucius mutters behind him. Then he dashes in front of Izzy and grabs him by the shoulders. “Look,” he says, “if you’re truly determined to go, I won’t stop you. I won’t follow you, either. But before you do, I want you to know what you’re walking away from. I didn’t reject you. I didn’t stop kissing you because I didn’t like it. That conversation was pretty tense. I needed to make sure you were actually okay before anything physical happened. I didn’t want to gloss over something that was still bothering you just to kiss you. I didn’t want to let you pretend you were all right just so we could fuck. I just wanted to be sure you were really all right with what we talked about before moving forward. Okay?”
Izzy merely presses his lips together. If he could close his ears, block out Lucius’s voice, he would.
Lucius sighs. “Look. I don’t know why you’re so mistrusting of honest intentions. But remember last time we were together? When I asked what would happen if you just let yourself have that moment? Remember how you did that?”
Izzy looks up at Lucius, still fuming.
Lucius continues. “What if you tried that again? What if you let yourself believe me? What if you let yourself have the promise of me caring about you? What’s the worst that could happen?”
Izzy’s throat becomes tight. Lucius is looking at him as though he expects an answer. If it will make him let Izzy go, fine. He’ll get an answer. “You’ll hurt me.”
“I could,” Lucius agrees. “Just like I could have ended up disgusted with you when we were last together. But I didn’t. And I won’t. At least not intentionally.” He steps closer to Izzy. “I’m not lying. I’m not hiding anything. I’m not keeping secrets. I can’t promise I won’t ever hurt you. No one can make a promise like that. But I promise I will do everything I can not to hurt you.” He moves his right hand to cup Izzy’s jaw, tilting his chin up so Izzy meets his eyes. “Please just… believe me. Please.”
His touch is soft and gentle, his voice quiet and pleading. The knot in Izzy’s chest is back, growing with each frantic beat of his heart, threatening to snap him completely in half. He could do as Lucius asks, give in, let himself believe that Lucius truly, actually does care about him. He could fall into that feeling, the panicked joy of being wanted, being seen, being valued. He could embrace the desire to give as well, to say and do everything possible to make Lucius happy, to make him smile. He could.
And when it all came apart? When, inevitably, it fell with a crash, splintering into a thousand pieces? Izzy would break with it, would once again scream until his throat bled, sob until his eyes burned, lose all reason for living.
It’s happened before. And, as Lucius has previously made Izzy confront, the defenses he built to protect him from that pain have also protected him from happiness. He’s walled himself off from affection so much that all it takes is a kind word and a soft touch from Lucius to pull him apart.
He sighs. “All right.”
“All right?” Lucius peers at him. “Is that a real all right, or are you just saying what I want to hear?”
“No, I—” Izzy chews the inside of his cheek. The thoughts always make sense in his head, but when he tries to put them into words they get jumbled up and stupid. “I don’t want to keep… pushing people away. I want to believe you.” He looks up into Lucius’s eyes. “I want to try, at least.”
“Oh, Izzy.” Lucius pulls Izzy to him, wrapping his arms tight around him. “God. That seemed real. That actually seemed real. Like you do actually want to try.” He kisses Izzy’s hair. His arms, still tight around Izzy, shake slightly.
It’s this that finally, truly breaks through Izzy’s walls. Lucius’s reaction is so genuine, so real, Izzy can’t help but feel he does mean what he says. And yes, it could all fall apart. But maybe it’s worth it, just to touch that glorious joy one more time. He lets himself relax into Lucius’s arms, presses his ear to Lucius’s chest, hearing his heartbeat rapidly pounding. Izzy wraps his arms around Lucius, his hands flat on Lucius’s back, and he both feels and hears Lucius inhale beneath him.
Izzy lifts his head from Lucius’s chest and Lucius immediately covers his mouth with his own, sighing around his lips. The knot in Izzy’s chest snaps, and he is flooded with desire like being doused with lava, like swallowing fire. He presses close to Lucius, and Lucius whimpers against him. Lucius—controlled, always powerful—and yet he whimpers into Izzy’s mouth, the sound echoing with need.
Izzy drops to his knees, the sand of the beach cushioning the impact, and begins to pull open the buttons of Lucius’s trousers. Lucius rushes to help him, and the trousers fall to the ground around his ankles. Izzy takes a moment to appreciate the way the firelight bounces off Lucius’s cock, in contrast to the silvered moonlight glinting off it, then he plunges onto it, pushing it into the back of his throat.
“Fuck, Izzy,” Lucius says, “you take me so well.” Izzy’s spine tingles at this, and he slips the glove off his uninjured hand to wrap his fingers around the base of Lucius’s cock. He slides his mouth along Lucius’s length, dragging the tip of his tongue from base to tip, and Lucius lets out a breathy moan and grabs Izzy’s shoulder to steady himself.
The grip of Lucius’s fingers on Izzy’s shoulder settles on him like a blanket, and Izzy realizes that now, this time, he’s doing this himself. In the past, Lucius has commanded him, dominated him, broken him down or overwhelmed him, and he responded on instinct and raw emotion. But now he is choosing, he is leading, and Lucius is the one slipping into the breathless, heady loss of control. The realization sizzles through Izzy, lighting him with an energy like that of battle, akin to blood rage. In battle Izzy is a force of nature, an act of god painting fates in blood. In this passion with Lucius Izzy is equally a force, but he is also the canvas, painted in sweat and spit and cum. He is the artist of his own exhilaration, and Lucius’s as well.
He recalls every word, every gasp, every moan Lucius has made, arranging them in his mind in a tapestry of lust, working out how best to take Lucius apart with desire as Lucius has done to him. He strokes Lucius with his tongue several more times, tasting the salt of his precum, then draws off him and rises once more to his feet. Lucius’s gaze is fixed on Izzy’s lips, so Izzy runs his tongue over them as he starts unlacing his own trousers. Lucius’s mouth falls open at this, so Izzy steps to him, then takes Lucius’s hand and pushes it down into his unlaced trousers. Lucius’s fingers wrap around his cock, and Izzy breathes, “Lucius.”
Lucius lets out a soft cry and collapses slightly. Izzy grabs him around the waist to keep him upright, pulling him to himself slightly in the process. Lucius’s eyes are half-lidded, his breathing heavy, all from a few sucks on his cock and his name on Izzy’s lips. Izzy takes Lucius’s cock in his fist and squeezes gently as he repeats, “Lucius.” Lucius leans against him now, his cock throbbing beneath Izzy’s fingers.
“Oh god, Izzy,” he moans.
Izzy takes Lucius’s head in his hands and kisses him deeply, fiercely, and Lucius returns the kiss with equal ferocity. As Izzy pulls away he meets Lucius’s eyes, then keeps their gazes locked as he sinks back to his knees. Still without taking his gaze away, Izzy fishes his own cock out of his trousers, stroking it once as Lucius watches. Lucius’s hips buck, pushing his cock toward Izzy as his eyes go wide. Finally, Izzy breaks eye contact to take Lucius back into his mouth.
“Jesus,” Lucius breathes as Izzy slides his mouth down his length. Both of Lucius’s hands grip Izzy’s shoulders, steadying himself as Izzy presses the head of Lucius’s cock to the back of his throat. He holds himself there, breath cut off, tongue curling around the shaft, as long as he can manage it. The he pulls back, gasping in a breath through his nose before beginning a slow, deep rhythm. He adds his uninjured hand, fingers and thumb curled around Lucius’s cock, applying a gentle pressure around the base.
Lucius, finally slightly recovered, begins to thrust into his mouth, one hand rising to wrap fingers in Izzy’s hair. Izzy lets Lucius set the pace, taking his cues from Lucius’s speed and depth. Then, he looks up once more, locking eyes with Lucius, who lets out a small, breathy cry. “Fuck, Izzy,” he breathes. “Fucking… fuck.”
Izzy’s lips curl into the tiniest of smiles, as much as he can do with them still wrapped around Lucius’s cock. He’s brought Lucius to ineloquence, to that state in which the mouth says what it wants without direction from the brain. The giddy rush invigorates him, and he moans around Lucius’s cock. Lucius gasps, and his grip on Izzy’s hair tightens.
But it’s much too soon for him to come, so Izzy pulls back and looks up at him, swallowing a mouthful of spit and precum, his fingers and thumb still stroking Lucius. Izzy smiles up at him, and an expression of broken rapture, like sweet heartbreak, crosses Lucius’s face. Lucius’s fingers release Izzy’s hair to instead card through it, and Izzy shivers at the touch, then brings his lips to Lucius’s cock once more. Lucius groans, his hips bucking, and pushes into Izzy’s throat once more.
Izzy is reminded so strongly of their first night together, when Lucius bound Izzy’s wrists, pushed him to his knees, and pushed his cock into Izzy’s mouth. Their positions are the same now, except now Izzy is the one in control, making Lucius gasp and moan and tremble. Izzy has rarely been the one in charge during sex, and never with anyone besides a stranger. He’s fascinated by it, by the way he can pull small, desperate noises from Lucius with this or that touch, with this or that flick of his tongue. And he can read Lucius’s body, even having only been with him twice before. He feels Lucius’s pace growing faster and harder, tastes Lucius’s flavor growing more bitter, hears his breath growing more ragged.
Without breaking his rhythm, Izzy looks up. Lucius’s eyes are closed, his mouth open. He gasps, “Izzy, I’m gonna—” and Izzy tightens his fingers very slightly. He keeps his eyes on Lucius’s face as Lucius fills his mouth, watching his features go stiff and then slack as his orgasm rolls over him. He commits the sight to memory. Even if this does all crumble to nothing later, Izzy will still have this moment, can still think back on the way Lucius looked as Izzy made him drunk with pleasure.
At last, Izzy pulls his mouth off Lucius and stands, pressing close to him. Lucius blinks rapidly, as though awareness is only just returning to his body. “Good god, Izzy,” he murmurs, “that was… fuck.” Izzy pulls him close, bringing their mouths together in a deep, wet kiss. Lucius wraps his hand around Izzy’s cock, and Izzy’s hips jerk involuntarily as he breaks the kiss. “Christ,” Izzy says, “if it weren’t for all this sand I’d turn you around, put you on your knees, and fuck you senseless.”
Hand working slow strokes on Izzy’s cock, Lucius pulls him close to whisper in his ear, “Have to remember that later, then.” Izzy shudders, the thought of sliding deep into Lucius’s ass making his cock throb. “For now, though,” Lucius says, and sinks to his knees.
“God yes,” Izzy says, wrapping his hand around the back of Lucius’s head as Lucius places his lips on the tip of Izzy’s cock. He looks up, and Izzy memorizes this, too: Lucius on his knees before him, eyes filled with adoration bordering on worship. Lucius’s eyes stay on Izzy’s as he slides his mouth to the base of his cock, just as Izzy did with him. Lucius’s mouth is soft, his lips and tongue wrapping around Izzy. Izzy has imagined this a hundred times, no, a thousand, how Lucius’s mouth might feel around his cock, and yet the reality is beyond anything he could have dreamed. He’s taken Lucius into himself three times now, let Lucius fuck his mouth and his ass, but not until this moment has he been inside Lucius.
His head swims a bit, and he grabs for Lucius’s shoulder to steady himself. Lucius holds Izzy by the hips, tapping his wooden finger against Izzy’s side, and the anchoring effect of it returns, grounds him back into the moment. Something twists hard in his chest at this, at the way Lucius knows exactly what Izzy needs and does it without hesitation, but that thought is far too overwhelming right now, so Izzy pushes it deep into the back of his brain, holding it there to be examined later, when he can think properly instead of losing himself in the feel of Lucius’s mouth.
And Lucius is now sucking him like Izzy has never been sucked before, stroking with his lips and tongue, one finger and his thumb making a ring around the base of Izzy’s cock while the other fingers cup his balls. It is an overpowering sensation, and Izzy groans loudly, his fingernails digging into Lucius’s scalp. “Fucking hell, Lucius,” he says, “if I’d known it would be like this I’d have made you suck my dick long ago.”
Lucius pulls off him and grins up at him, sitting back on his heels. “You’d have made me, huh?” He winks. “Like to see you try.”
Izzy yanks his head back to his cock, but for all his posturing, he still gets lost in the sensation again the moment Lucius begins to suck him once more. A small part of Izzy’s brain sparks a thought, that Lucius must have gotten so skilled at this by sucking many, many cocks, but rather than the usual pang Izzy feels at the thought of Lucius with other people, now his cock throbs at the idea of Lucius on his knees in front of man after man after man just to learn exactly how to make Izzy burn with lust. He moans, thrusting into Lucius’s mouth, and Lucius moans back, the vibration of his voice humming up Izzy’s cock.
Izzy grabs a fistful of Lucius’s hair and pulls him off his cock. Lucius looks up at him, confused. “Tell me about sucking someone else’s cock,” Izzy says.
Lucius’s brows pinch together. “You sure?”
“Now, Lucius,” Izzy commands, tightening his grip on his hair and shaking it slightly.
Lucius gasps, then smiles as he begins stroking Izzy’s cock with his hand. “Well there was one time, back when I was a teenager. First time I ever did it, actually. A man probably thirty years my senior, just passing through our village. He talked me through the whole thing, taught me so much.”
Izzy’s hips buck, his cock twitching in Lucius’s fist.
Lucius continues, “Then one time I sucked my boyfriend off right in the middle of the street. I was certain we’d be arrested, but all that happened was that some people gave us dirty looks.”
“Fuck,” Izzy whispers.
“Then there was that time you walked in on me,” Lucius says. His hand stills on Izzy’s cock. Izzy looks down to find Lucius searching his face. “Do you want to hear about that? When you saw me and Pete?”
“Yes,” Izzy breathes. Fuck, but he really does.
Lucius smiles. “I’d already drawn several of the crew, but not Pete. He actually asked me, not the other way around. He’s much more of a slut than people realize. And I did draw him, of course, but his cock was just so tempting.”
Izzy’s cock throbs hard, recalling the moment he stepped into the galley, the smell of sex thick on the air, wet sounds issuing from the corner. Pete’s blissed-out expression. Lucius’s head bobbing somewhere near his waist.
Lucius brings his lips very close to Izzy’s cock. “I actually just swallowed the moment you walked in,” he says, his breath tickling the head of Izzy’s cock. “When you got up in my face, I wondered if you could smell it on my breath.”
A cry issues from Izzy’s lips, unbidden. That moment is seared into his brain in perfect clarity. He could smell it on Lucius’s breath.
Lucius takes Izzy into his mouth again, and god above, Izzy has never been so blessed. He cannot fathom how this journey happened, from boiling with fury at Lucius’s shameless sexuality to being buried to the hilt in his hot, wet mouth, but dear god, Izzy is thankful for it. He grips the back of Lucius’s head and thrusts hard into him, and Lucius moans, melting into each impact. Izzy is floating, flying, falling, then filling Lucius’s mouth as he hums around his cock. Izzy shudders as the last of his orgasm passes through him, and Lucius pulls away, swallowing. Whatever force was keeping Izzy upright abruptly departs, and he falls to his knees. Lucius pulls him close, kissing him softly and deeply, their bodies pressed together.
At long last they pull apart. Izzy tucks himself back into his trousers, dusting sand off the leather, and Lucius does the same, shaking the fabric a bit to clear it. The fire has died to embers, the beach now lit mostly by the light of the moon. Izzy pushes himself to his feet. “Shall we head back to the ship then?”
“What, so I can trip over something in the dark and break my ankle along the way? No thank you.” Lucius stands and shakes his head. “Let’s stay here tonight, go back in the morning in daylight.”
As much as Izzy doesn’t want to sleep on the sand, he relishes the idea of another night with Lucius all to himself. “All right.” He finds the crate, empties it, and kicks it apart, then adds a few pieces of it to the fire, poking the flames back to life. Lucius sits next to it, staring into the flames. Izzy sits beside him, pressed against him.
“This is like, stupidly romantic, you know,” Lucius says, wrapping an arm around Izzy. “Fucking on a beach under the light of the moon, sitting together by a fire, no one else in sight.”
Izzy hums. He supposes it is. He’s never given much thought to romance.
“Listen,” Lucius says, “when we do go back, I’d really appreciate if you could make some changes.”
“Like what?” Izzy tries to keep the growl out of his voice. He fears he might have failed.
“Like, talk to me about what you’re feeling, especially if something is bothering you. Whatever it is, it won’t get better by ignoring it.”
“Mm.” Izzy won’t commit to that.
“And I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for, but you’ve really gotta stop being so mean to everyone. Stop insulting people, stop hitting them, stop grabbing them by the hair.”
That one sounds like Fang’s influence. Izzy knows how Fang feels about his beard. “Not sure I can change all that.”
“Do you enjoy being despised?” Lucius’s voice is gentle, but his words cut Izzy to the core. “I’m not saying you can’t get angry about anything. I’m just saying you need to stop bullying people. You know it doesn’t help anything, and it gets in the way of you having any friends.”
“What do I need with friends?” Izzy says. “Pirates don’t have friends.”
“Well that’s clearly untrue,” Lucius responds. “I’m a pirate, and I have lots of friends.”
“You’re not a pirate,” Izzy grumbles.
Lucius takes his arm away from Izzy’s shoulders. “This is what I mean. This shit. I know it won’t happen all at once, but if you can’t even try to stop insulting me, you’ll never manage it with anyone else. And everyone will keep hating you, and you’ll keep being miserable.”
Izzy stares at the wood crackling and curling in the fire. He knows the truth of Lucius’s words. The crew tolerate him at best, and his old methods are no longer getting results. They men work better without him. He came to this beach to escape that superfluous existence. Perhaps this is how to do it. “All right. I’m sorry I said that. You are a pirate. Just not like most pirates.”
Lucius smiles, and Izzy’s heart warms a bit. “Good enough, Izzy. You’re right, I’m not like most pirates. Quite happy about that, honestly.” He puts his arm back around Izzy’s shoulders and squeezes. “I know this isn’t easy for you. I’m proud of you for doing it anyway.”
Izzy throat closes. He looks into Lucius’s eyes. Stupid, to let words get to him like this, to let them burrow into his chest and release feelings he’d thought he trapped there, and yet there it is, happening despite him. Lucius leans toward him and kisses him on the forehead. “So talk to me about what you’re feeling, and stop being awful to the crew, and we’ll take the rest as it comes, okay?”
Izzy nods. Worth a shot, at least.
“Good,” Lucius says. He looks down at the bandage wrapped around Izzy’s hand. “I wanted to ask, what happened there?” He nods toward it.
Izzy shrugs. “Cut it on my sword.”
“On your sword?” Lucius’s brows rise.
Izzy scowls. “Yes, on my sword. I was polishing it. Got careless.”
“You? Careless?”
Izzy sighs. “I was trying not to think about… things.” It sounds even dumber saying it out loud.
But Lucius brings his hand up to Izzy’s neck, lightly running his fingernails up into Izzy’s hair. “But you’re more okay with that now?” He searches Izzy’s face. “After what you asked me to describe earlier?”
Izzy shrugs, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I was always really bothered by it before, but now…” He meets Lucius’s eyes. “It’s actually something of a turn on, thinking about you fucking other people.”
Lucius smiles, and pulls Izzy to him for a deep, slow kiss, full of tongue and the smallest breathy sounds. Even after spending himself fully in Lucius’s mouth, Izzy’s cock still twitches slightly.
“I’m glad,” Lucius says. “That was really hot. Both the fact that you asked, and then your reactions to what I said.”
A heat rises up Izzy’s neck. He wonders if he’ll ever get tired of Lucius telling him exactly how much he enjoys what Izzy does. Probably not.
“Now let’s get some sleep,” Lucius says. He lets go of Izzy to shrug out of his jacket, spreading it on the ground to make a barrier against the sand. The dainty little thing is laughably small though, barely enough for Lucius alone, so Izzy unbuttons first his waistcoat and then his shirt. He takes both off, then slips the waistcoat back on, leaving it unbuttoned, as he spread his shirt out on the sand.
Lucius’s eyes are wide, staring at him. “Good god,” he says.
What’s Izzy done wrong now? “What?”
Lucius lets out a breath, shaking his head. “You should dress like this more often.”
Izzy looks down. His arms and torso are scarred, marked here and there with tattoos. “Should I?”
“Yeah.” Lucius nods emphatically. “Fuck, you’re so hot I can’t think. Like, I’m not flattering you. You’re really fucking gorgeous.”
Gorgeous? It’s a word Izzy used to hear, years ago when his hair was black and his skin mostly unmarred. It’s not something that’s been said about him in well over a decade. But the way Lucius is looking at him, eyes roving over him, shows he really does mean it. Lucius looks at him like he’s a feast, like he’s priceless, like he’s… made of gold.
Fuck.
Izzy sits down hard, fighting against the flutter in his chest, doing his best to shove that thought away into that dark corner of his mind, to be dealt with later, maybe. This is far too fast, much too soon to be having thoughts like that. He takes a steadying breath, clearing his mind, willing that thought away.
“Hey.” Lucius places a soft hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
Izzy nods. “Fine.”
“Izzy.” Lucius levels a stare at him. “You said you’d talk to me about things.”
“I know, but…” Izzy takes a breath. “There’s nothing wrong, honestly. I just…” He chews his lip. “I just need some time.”
Lucius’s expression softens. “That’s okay. Sometimes it does take time to process things. That’s fine. Thank you for telling me. You did that really well.”
“I did?” Every word had felt forced and stupid.
But Lucius is nodding. “You said how you were feeling. You told me what you need. It was excellent.”
“Oh.” Maybe, if stupidly stumbling over his words is excellent, Izzy can do this after all. “All right, then.”
Lucius lies back, pulling Izzy down next to him. He wriggles close, wrapping an arm over Izzy and sliding his leg between Izzy’s. He traces patterns lightly over Izzy’s arm with his fingers, gazing at him. Izzy can’t bear to see the way Lucius is looking at him, like something priceless, so he closes his eyes and settles his hand at Lucius’s waist. The soft rush of the waves, the warm crackle of the fire, and the gentle touch of Lucius’s fingers ease him into sleep.