An Affair With History (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} historic_affair) wrote,@ 2008-07-10 19:46:00 |
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Title: An Affair With History
Authors: GoldenGardenias and SunsetDawn20
Rating: PG to NC-17
This Chapter: R
Summary: This is the fifth chapter of our Pirates of the Caribbean/Master and Commander crossover fic; filled with various pairings. To learn more, visit the site for this story. HERE
This Chapter: James is led to his fate by a mysterious fiddler
A/N: Blue parts are written by GoldenGardenias, Brown by SunsentDawn20.
Previous chapters can be found here.
The slowly setting sun still found James in his office, bending over official letters and reports. He had been trying all afternoon to get some work done but while his eyes dutifully scanned the texts he was to read, his mind wouldn’t take in the words. He couldn’t help but think of Tom and Will. He would have to go and see them, today, if possible – it wouldn’t do any good to put it off. But it was hard. He was scared of talking to either of them.
Oddly enough he had less fear of talking to Will. He had no idea what he would say – nothing he’d say could make it any better, nothing would soothe the boy’s aching heart – but he was sure he’d find the right words once they were face to face. He had known Will for long years, he had been like an older brother for the boy and later his best friend. He read Will like and open book – he knew his fears, his hopes, his pain, he knew Will as if he held the boy’s heart in the palm of his hand.
But Tom. That was a different matter altogether. He was a mystery to James. His eyes spoke volumes of his feelings, true enough, he wore no masks like James, but James had not yet learned their language. While with Will he didn’t know what to say, with Tom he didn’t know how to say it. He wanted to tell Tom how deeply he felt for him but he knew he would not be able to utter those three words yet even if he desperately wanted to. It was still too soon. He needed Tom to know but he couldn’t say the words. He would have to find a different way.
James sighed and buried his head in his hands. He should be going. He should get it over with. He stood up and crossed his office with uncertain steps. Who should he talk to first? Tom. Yes, Tom. He needed to understand. James decided and flung the door open. He was walking fast towards Tom’s office. He hoped he would find Tom there, since he had no idea where he lived. But with every step he took he became more and more uncertain. Was this really the right path? Maybe Will deserved to be the first he talked to – his fearful heart argued. Anything would be better than having to explain everything to Tom.
It was a childish fear but somehow James felt as if any feelings he had in the past for anybody but Tom would weigh on him like unforgivable sins. Of course, Tom knew that he had had and lost a lover once, and accepted it, but James felt uneasy about telling Tom about these past temptations. That’s all they had been though – temptations. Not once, since he had lost Dan, did he give into temptation. Mostly it was easy, James was not somebody to be taken over by pure desire, but on two occasions his strength injured his heart deeply – once with Will, the other he did not think about, he wouldn’t allow himself to remember. And even if these small flames were of the past and he was sure, Tom would just smile at his feeling of betrayal, he still had the urge to run away from the confrontation with his past.
By the time he got to Tom’s office, his heart was beating so fast that it almost hurt. He put his hand on the door handle but immediately pulled it away. He couldn’t do this. Not yet. He quickly turned away and almost ran all the way to Brown’s smithy.
It would have done James no great injustice to open that door, for Tom had left nearly an hour before. He'd stayed later than was needed, going over new policies, and talking to Theodore and Andrew about what they thought was most important for him to know about his new post. They had laughed and gone out for a pint. Tom found them to be good friends, even though they were not entirely close yet, they were companionable. He still missed young William, and Bondon, and Jack's childish jokes. But he'd been trying his best not to think about it. Young Mr. Blakeny was assigned back to England, it would be good for the little blonde to see his parents once more. Barrett, he didn't rightly know what happened to the coxswain... And Aubrey... Jack... Tom willed himself not to think about it, and not to continue to drink with the rest of the men. It was easy to get carried away in song, and hopes of drowning out memories. But it was not the way to go.
He left after two drinks, to wonder the streets of Port Royal, entirely too sober, and left to his thoughts. In attempt to lose himself once more, he went to the market, most vendors still about until the sun was nearly completely gone. Some packing away. He moved along buying enough to start stocking his cabinets and be able to cook for the evening, and bring for lunch the next day. The baker frowned at Tom shopping on his own, no servant doing it for him. But his wife was kind, slipping Tom a few recipes on his way out. And thus he made his way home as the last rays of light glistened over the ocean. He set his things on the kitchen table, and made his way up the stairs to the bedroom of his modest home. He discarded most of his uniform, leaving on his shirt, and clothes from the waist down, but the upper layers were removed. Back down the stairs he went, absently brushing his hair on the way, ribbon between his lips.
Once down the stairs, he set the brush on the mantle, the living room the first place you entered and where the stairs were located. He braided his hair as not to have it in his way, and started a fire to warm the house, moving on to the kitchen to put things away and start dinner for himself. Which was not nearly as simple as the recipe booklet suggested. He had no idea what it meant to broil something... so in the end, he made the first thing that came to mind... stew. He cut up veggies, beef, and herbs. He experimented a little, slicing oranges from his tree and tossing them in the pot as well, and moving it all over the kitchen fire. He set the table, which was meant for servants, but he wasn't about to eat in the lonely dinning room. He found his crate of spirits in the cupboard, and allowed himself wine. Everything ready, butter, jam, and bread on the table... he just had to wait for the main course to finish. That wasn't so hard.
The night was hot, the slight breeze from the sea couldn’t cool down the heavy air. But James didn’t notice. All he could do, as he rushed across the empty streets of Port Royal, was to curse himself for his cowardice. He should have talked to Tom first. But when he almost decided to turn back again, he realized he had already reached the smithy. As he slowly pushed the heavy door open he heard the rhythmical sound of a hammer kissing hot steel. But as he entered and shut the door behind his back, the sound suddenly stopped.
“Why did you come?” Will asked without even looking up from his work. The cold, hard edge in Will’s voice hurt James but he tried to ignore it as he stepped closer to the blacksmith.
“We should talk” he said more calmly than he really felt.
“You love that man. I could see it in your eyes. So there’s nothing to talk about.” Will said silently as he tried to put some distance between them but James grabbed his arm to stop him from moving away.
“My feelings for Tom don’t change the feelings I have for you. I care about you, Will. I can’t give up on your friendship.” Will smiled sadly and put his hand gently over James’ heart as if he was hoping to change its desires.
“I value your friendship, James, more than anything I have in this world and I wouldn’t throw it away, ever. But it’s not enough. I can’t stop craving more.”
“I know.” James whispered laying his hand over Will’s, squeezing it slightly. They were so close. He could almost feel the need radiating from Will’s tanned skin, could almost see the flames that set the boy’s heart on fire flickering in those chocolate brown eyes. He knew what would come next, he knew it even before Will’s trembling lips reached his own. And he let it happen. He wanted to give something to Will, a memory to cling to until that fire would be put out by a new love. James didn’t pull away until Will finally stopped the kiss and turned away with a heavy sigh.
“Go now.” he whispered, not looking at James, who slowly turned and stepped out into the hot night.
Tom checked the stew, the smell was making his stomach growl. He sighed heavily, and moved back upstairs, taking a case from under his bed and bringing it downstairs with him. He moved into the kitchen, checking the stew once more before moving just outside the kitchen door which led to the medium sized garden of herbs, veggies, and flowers. He set the case on the step, unlatching it, and looking at the beauty that lay within. Finally crafted dark wood shining up at him. He lifted it lovingly from the case, using a bit of cotton cloth as a chin rest. He picked up the bow next, in his right hand. He held the instrument between chin and left shoulder, stretching his fingers before placing the long digits on the strings. His fingers were long and graceful, made for playing the violin or perhaps the piano- which he could play mildly well. But his passion lay with the violin. He drew the bow across the strings, tuning the instrument before he paused, thinking of what he might play.
Finally he closed his eyes, listening to what he was feeling inside. His first notes were frustrated and angry, from the days events... but then, he saw a pair of green eyes... and the real tune came into form, something formal and elegant like James was. But as he thought of what lay beneath, the tune became sad, slow and melancholy. But it was disturbed by James' smile, and the tune picked up once more. And for a time was happy, the mere thought of what they might have... it rolled up and down, just like the rise and fall of his emotions with his thoughts. As his memories chased him, he played a song for the sea, for the HMS Surprise, for the good times he'd had on her. A lament to his past. To Jack, young Will, the open sea, the salt on his skin, the sea spray on his face, the sunsets, the doldrums, the starlit waters, battles, the thrill of the chase... but in the end he was brought back to the day... and to James.
James was wandering up and down Port Royal’s dark streets. He was still too much in thought about what had just happened and what still lay ahead, and it made him restless. He needed to think, to walk and with every step he took to leave one more piece of his troubling thoughts behind. He wasn’t watching where he was going, only let his legs take him wherever they wanted. It was strangely comforting to let his legs take control over his mind. He could almost feel how with every little movement of his muscles he became freer from his worries and fears. An invisible power seemed to guide him. A force that grew stronger and stronger and finally materialised into the soft song of a heart translated into music by a violin. It led James to a street he had never seen before, or maybe it just looked different in daylight.
He moved closer to the source of that magical sound, drinking in the tunes that he couldn’t and didn’t want to escape from. It was soft but sad and it was as if the mysterious violinist was holding James’ heart in his hands instead of the instrument. But every now and then the music changed, it was filled with hope and even joy. It brought back memories of the past, of Dan, how they had lived and loved for that painfully short time before they were forced apart. Memories of being pushed into the small lake in clothes, making Mother angry by skipping dinner, laying in the soft green grass, long fingers tracing invisible lines on his chest, that first kiss which was followed by many more, and strong arms holding him. Then being discovered, forced apart, punished and the sounds turned angry but changed again soon into his frightening confusion of two days ago when he saw Tom for the first time. The doubts, the suppressed longing, the unvoiced hopes. A promise: “I’m not giving up on you”. And it drove tears in James’ eyes. Was it possible to express all his past and future feelings in music? Who was the magician who conjured up his Heaven and Hell and turned it into harmony? He had to know. And before he could stop himself, he knocked on the door.
Tom's tune ended a bit abruptly as he picked up the sound of knocking at his door. He lay his beloved violin in its case, carrying it into the house, leaving it open on the kitchen table, as he planned to go back to it. He moved to the door, absently tugging his braid over his shoulder nervously wondering who it could be. And whether or not he'd be presentable, it would be rude to leave them at the door to run upstairs and change. So he fidgeted at the door, before swinging it open.
"Can I help-" He began, but cut short as he saw who it was. His eyes widened in surprise, only to smile warmly at James, his lips mimicking the smile in his eyes. "James..." He said almost breathlessly, "I... you... I mean... this is a surprise. Come in, come in!" He opened the door wider, moving out of the way to allow the other man in.
"I was just waiting for a stew to finish... should I put out an extra setting?" He offered, flicking the braid back over his shoulder, and attempting to straighten his clothes the best he could. Even if it was pointless. He left the door open for the other and quickly moved back into the kitchen, already setting another place setting. "I didn't know you'd stop by, you should have told me, I would have attempted something more than a simple stew. I was trying to give it a Caribbean taste, so I'm not entirely sure how it will come out... smells good though... and wine... I have wine out, but if you'd prefer something else, I can get it. I have port, cognac, probably some rum, gin... and I know I have some rice wine from that stop in Asia minor last year..." He was rambling without realizing it.
His home was untidy from moving in, didn’t look or feel lived in yet. It was just sort of, empty. But he had a lot of unpacking to do, just had not had the time as of yet. He would have set up the dining room had he known James would show up. A captain and man of his class was used to much finer things. Even aboard the Surprise, dinner with Jack and select high ranking crew and the doctor- they'd used fine crystal, and polished silver. Tom had humble utensils of steel, his glasses were merely that, glass. His plates were a gift from Jack though, white china with gold trim. Anything else was mix-matched. Cups and cooking tools from different countries, things he picked up on his travels. He simply could go nowhere without finding something interesting he just had to buy, or collect. He'd already gotten several large shells that had pictures carved into them. One of a sunset, one of a ship, a bird, a tree, and a rose. All already set through out the house.
Surprise? Fear? Joy? Love? James didn’t know what he was feeling as he saw Tom opening the door, maybe all of these and so much more. Words weren’t enough, only music came close. Tom was smiling, but seemed to become nervous at seeing him there. He was rambling about some stew and before James could even say anything, Tom had already disappeared into the kitchen. So he shut the door and followed the other man. It was endearing how Tom seemed unable to stop talking or moving. And James just watched, not even looking at his surroundings, unable to think of anything else than holding Tom close and never letting go. Never.
“It was beautiful.” he finally said, trying to put an end to Tom’s fidgeting. “The way you played the violin.” he added softly, searching for Tom’s eyes. “It was… as if you had melted… my heart into music.”
Tom paused, eyes soft as he looked at James a long moment. "I didn't know anyone was listening..." He said softly, moving over to James, though still keeping some distance. He didn't know what today had meant, and he didn't want to make any assumptions. He saw how the Turner boy had looked at James. No, he could not assume. He looked down, clasping his hands together, if only so he would not reach out for the man before him.
"I thought about you more than once while playing." He spoke softly, almost shyly. "I..." He cleared his throat, "Are you hungry?" He asked, looking at him once more. "I'm sure the stew is finished now..." He took as step, as if to move towards James, but turned instead. Moving to the pot, and using an iron to turn it away from the fire. Serving it into the bowls he'd put aside, and setting them on the table. Fidgeting again before looking at James.
"Was the rest of your day well?" He asked, attempting to pick up the subject, but very unsure if he should. He was much more shy, hardly able to look at James. He didn't dare to hope, yet it was all he could do.
He stepped closer to Tom, so close that they were almost touching. He raised his hand and tentatively touched Tom’s slightly flushed cheek, gently brushing over his scar. James’ heart was racing and dancing like it was possessed by the Devil. His body was on fire, like it has never been before and he knew, only Tom’s touch could tame the destructive flames. He needed to feel, to taste, to love. So he leaned closer and brushed his trembling lips to Tom’s scar – that little imperfection that only made the man more beautiful in James’ eyes. Then he traveled lower and lower until he found Tom’s slightly parted lips waiting for him. He could help but smile into the kiss as he pulled Tom in his arms and held him strong. He was still smiling as he finally pulled away slightly and said:
“Yes, I am hungry.”
Tom's eyes fluttered shut as James' lips touched his skin. When James' lips met his own, his heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but melt against the other man. Food was suddenly the last thing on his mind as he wrapped his arms around James and nuzzled his face against the other man's neck.
"You're still mine, then?" He asked against the other's skin. He could feel the wetness in his eyes, and pressed his face further against James' warm skin. "I was worried..." He said honestly, holding him tighter. "He was such a pretty young lad... I... I couldn't image you thinking twice about me... I... I should know better. You wouldn't do that would you?"
He breathed, knowing James would feel the wetness at his collar. But these were tears of thanks, of happiness that James had come back to him. That there was no hesitance in his touch.
"It would be too soon to say anything... far too soon. But surely... you must know what I feel for you James... I feel it like I have never felt in my life. This is no passing fancy..."
James tightened his arms around Tom as an answer to the silent plea in the other’s embrace. “I know” he whispered against Tom’s ear. “It’s the same I feel. And we don’t need words for that, it was all in your music.” He slightly pushed himself away and leaned close to Tom’s lips once again. “I’m yours. Don’t ever leave me.” A promise and a request. A kiss. Slow, tentative, promising more.
"Never... I'll never leave you..." Tom murmured against James' lips, hands moving up to remove James' hat and wig. The hair pins were dropping in James' hat, followed by the wig, which was tossed to the counter. He had wanted to touch James' hair since that moonlit evening. He was happy to be able to finally touch the dark brown strands. Darker than his own hair, which was lighter still because of days spent in the sun. But amazingly soft to the touch, he could hardly believe it, in fact. He wanted to look at him, see the effect taking the wig off had on his appearance... but he couldn't get himself to break from the kiss. In fact, he found that his lips were moving. He was getting bold, turning his head to the side a bit more to get still closer.
Without his hat and wig James almost felt naked, more vulnerable but also free from the restraints imposed on his life. He felt strangely liberated. It was a wonderful feeling to be pressed against Tom, to taste him, to belong to him. He moaned into the kiss as he felt Tom become bolder, more experimenting, almost… eager. And it only made James want him more. Without even noticing it, he pushed Tom against the table and started kissing him in earnest.
This kiss was nothing like the ones they had shared before. It was demanding and full of desire. At the same time James couldn’t help but notice how his body was eagerly responding to Tom’s closeness and loving embrace. It was just perfect. But his stomach chose exactly this very inopportune moment to protest loudly against James’ obliviousness to certain needs of his body, since he hadn’t eaten ever since that rather awkward scene in his office that morning. And James couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“I wasn’t joking, you know, I really am hungry.”
Tom couldn't help but laugh as well... or well, giggle. He looked up at James, his body liking his current position very much. But he straightened up all the same.
"Then let us sit down and eat." He gave James a peck on the lips, and worming his way out from between the other man and the table to sit. And he really needed to sit. He was light headed and um... well his breeches were feeling a bit tighter than usual. His face was flushed as he looked to James.
"I hope you like it... I was trying something new..." He was desperately trying not to throw himself at the other man... because that would just be impolite. But his chair magically moved closer until their knees were touching. He really couldn't help himself. The effect James had on him was utterly amazing. He was sure if it weren't for his skin, he'd have been a puddle of goo on the floor by now. Which would also, probably have been impolite... and messy...
James smiled inwardly as he felt Tom push his chair closer to his, so that their knees were touching. It was nothing compared to the position they had been in just seconds ago but it still felt intimate and comforting and he very much needed some reassurance that everything was fine. After all, it was easy to shut his brain up while pressed against the eager body of Tom, but dinner, no matter how exciting the food was, couldn’t provide for enough distraction and James felt nervous again.
So he did the best thing he could think of, he was rambling. He told Tom about his house, Molly Eidan, his housekeeper, and her mother hen instincts, his adventures at sea, books he loved and wanted Tom to read – anything that would make it impossible for him to think of anything. And every now and again he leaned over the table and brushed his lips against Tom’s without as much as an explanation and then carried on talking as if nothing had happened.
Tom smile and listened, nodding or making a comment here and there. But mostly just listened. He was amazingly happy with how his stew had come out, and allowed himself a second helping. Giving one to James as well, he decided that James needed to eat more anyway. He seemed like a man who took care of others but not himself. Tom decided that he would make sure to take care of James. By the time the meal was finished, Tom found that his hand had already entwined itself with James', which he really didn't mind.
He stood, clearing the table, and insisting James didn't do a thing. He washed and dried his dishes, and cleaned off the table before looking at James again. He didn't realize what dinner had meant. Dinner was dinner... but... now it was late... and he still didn't want James to go, and just couldn't see pushing him on to the streets at this late hour. And he was shy again. He worried his lower lip, feeling a flush coming to his cheeks.
"Were you... wanting to stay the night?" He asked, and quickly added, "I have a small guest bedroom... or..." Or you could stay in my room, but he couldn't get the words out. He definitely would not mind sharing his bed with another warm body. Especially if that warm body was the ever so dashing Captain Norrington.
How he wanted to say yes, to stay in Tom’s house even if it was only in the guest room. Of course he would have preferred sharing a bed with Tom. How wonderful it would be to curl around the other man and drift into sleep to the even beating of his heart, how wonderful it would be to wake up entangled in strong, loving arms, how wonderful it would be if the first thing he saw in the morning was Tom’s happy, almost boyish smile.
But he knew it would be quite a sight if he just waltzed out of Tom’s house in the morning in broad daylight, it would be the main gossip in the streets in mere hours. Not to mention Mrs. Eidan who would roast him alive if he didn’t return home for the night. And an angry Molly Eidan was much more frightening than a whole town full of gossips.
“Thank you, I’d love to but I think it would be better if I went home.”
Tom nodded, he wouldn't beg. Even if he wanted to. So he smiled softly, though his mind was trying desperately to think of reasons for James to stay longer. But sadly, he could think of nothing significant. So, instead, he moved over to James and threw his arms around him.
"I could walk you home..." He attempted, fingers finding their way into the hair he'd freed from James' wig. "You look so much younger without it..." He mused, "I would guess you near my own age with your wig off... you don't seem so hard... such a man of stone..." He nuzzled their faces together. "Without the braid you must simply look a man instead of a God..." He leaned his head up to purr into James' ear. "If I stayed... I could leave before dawn... no one would ever know..." So yes, he was rather fond of the idea of lying with James. Of course his mind did not go farther... he still did not know the extent of what two men could do together.
How could someone so innocent be so seductive without even noticing it? The way Tom spoke against his ear was intoxicating – his low, soft voice, they way he formed each word… it was like liquid silk. And it made James almost give in, but no, it was just too dangerous – something Tom apparently didn’t take into his calculations.
“No, Tom, I think it’s better if I go alone.” He said and moved closer to Tom for an innocent goodbye kiss, but in a second he was holding the other man’s body closely pressed to his own, unable to let go, not wanting to let go. And in less than five seconds he simply couldn’t remember one good argument for leaving.
Tom had no complaints at all. In fact, he was sure he wouldn't be able to let go of James this time. Not with the way his body seemed to go back to its exact state just before they'd had dinner. One hand in James' hair, the other at the nape of his neck. His head cocked to the side, lips moving against James', pressing his body as close to the other man's as possible. Too late he realized it was probably not a good idea because of obvious reasons... but it was too late to pull back now. And all he could think of was more. Kissing him more, touching him more, feeling more of him, seeing more of him. He wanted anything and everything James would give to him. At this very moment, he would do anything for the man without a second thought, he was completely lost. He'd never felt such passion, or such an intense state of being. And all he knew was that he didn't want it to end.
He had really only wanted an innocent kiss. Honestly. Nothing more. He would stop the kiss immediately. In a second. Ok, one more minute. Oh, God. He could feel all his control slip away as he felt Tom needily moving against his body. How he wanted to touch, to be touched, everywhere, but not even in this blissful moment could he completely switch off his mind and worries. Of course, Tom had mentioned a man, who he had once had feelings for but it never came up again and James had no idea how much Tom knew of these things. He did seem terribly innocent in many ways and James had the feeling that this part of his life was no exception.
Not that he himself had much experience in this area. The only person he had ever done more with than just slight kissing at most was Dan, and they could only call a terribly short time of happiness their own. Of course, he had had many possibilities in the last years, but he always managed to keep his body under control and nothing had ever happened. Which was something he almost regretted now. He was not used to feeling insecure and inexperienced. It wouldn’t matter of course if Tom had at least some knowledge of these things but it seemed very obvious that he was to take control and he was not sure he could do that. But he knew he could not back out now. Tom’s need apparently bordered on desperation and he himself was quite sure he couldn’t stop now even if his life depended on it.
“Tom…” he whispered against those sweet lips but the other man didn’t seem to notice, he was too lost in the sensations of their bodies pressed together. “Tom” he said louder, breathing heavily. “Bedroom. Where…”
"Upstairs..." Tom gasped, taking James' hand and leading him... well, tugging him along. It a few minutes, Tom was swinging the door shut behind them, lighting the three bedside candles, and pouncing on James once more. He was simply eager, pressing himself against the other man, and kissing him passionately. Even venturing far enough to flick his tongue over James' lips once or twice, just wanting to know all of him. But realized that they'd really have to move on from this.
"What do you want me to do?" He asked between kisses, attempting to removed James' jacket with trembling fingers. He didn't want to seem like he didn't know what he was doing. It was... well... embarrassing. A man his age shouldn't be a virgin! But he'd never been interested in the women who'd batted their eyes at him. And... he'd never been able to see past Jack. Even though there were quite a few men who had tried. It would be the same now. He would never be able to see past James, there would be no other man in his world save the handsome captain.
James blushed at Tom’s question and pulled away a bit. “I…” he didn’t know what to say. He had no clue himself. All he knew was that didn’t want to let go of Tom, and he was quite fine as long as they were kissing and touching, it was spontaneous and needed no thinking only feeling. But now Tom had asked the question James dreaded so much. He didn’t know the answer. Actually he did, he was content with whatever Tom was willing to give, but telling him that wouldn’t help Tom if he was looking for some help.
“Tom.” he finally decided to ask. “Have you ever… I mean… with that man…” Great. Now he was becoming even redder. Fantastic. Why couldn’t he do anything properly?
Tom bit his lower lip, finally getting James' jacket off. He moved away, turning his back to James as he unbuttoned the four buttons along the frill of his shirt.
"He..." He took a breath. He didn't speak right away, instead untied the ribbon of his braid, and took it out. "We never... he loved his doctor, not me." He said softly, untucking his shirt, and pulling it over his head. His back still turned to James, he couldn't help it. He was shy... and... well it was embarrassing to admit.
"But I'll do whatever you want me to do." He said, toeing off his shoes, before moving to the bed, sitting to pull off his stockings. Leaving him in just his breeches, hair falling over his shoulders. It was so rare that he wore it down... but he thought it only fitting for James to see him in a natural state. "I don't care what it is... as long as it pleases you..." He said softly.
James had a very hard time concentrating on Tom’s words, being a quite a bit distracted by the sight of the deliciously white skin of his back. It took him quite a while to take in the meaning of Tom’s words. It touched him how Tom seemed to be more interested in giving than experiencing pleasure and seemed not at all concerned about what lay ahead of him. James could still remember his first time all those years ago. He had felt more fear than passion that night. Dan had been wonderfully patient and gentle but James had still been trembling all over at every new touch, every new sensation. Tom seemed much more confident. Of course, James had been much younger than Tom was now, barely 16. Dan had been older, of course, more experienced.
16 years. More than 16 years had passed since then. And now here he was, with Tom. Not knowing much more than 15 years ago but being in charge. It was terrifying. But he wanted this more than anything in this world, so he undressed, just as Tom had and stepped closer to the bed, clasping Tom’s face in his hands and claiming those addictive lips once again. When he released Tom, he knelt down in front of him, still looking into his eyes and smiled more bravely than he actually felt.
“Listen to your heart, that’s what I’m doing.” he said and pulled Tom into a searing kiss.
Tom felt his stomach flutter, and he found himself tugging them both onto the bed, rolling himself on top of James, straddling the other man's hips. Mainly so he could work open his breeches, then he rolled off James to his back so he could wiggle out of them and kick them to the floor. His body was pretty obviously happy with the current goings on, it seemed the tall lad was not lacking either. He rolled to his side, pressing his lips to James' again, one hand curled into a pillow, the other moving over the other man's chest. Playing with a hair his own chest lacked, embarrassingly enough for him- compared to men aboard a ship a bit younger than him and up. His fingers were careful, and gentle. Tracing over James' skin like a blind man would to see. Tom was doing his best to take it all in , to memorize the feel and the texture. He didn't know when he would have the chance again. So he wanted to embed it into his mind forever. Each scar, each area of roughness or silky smoothness. Each curve, each ripple of muscle. He wanted to remember it all.
James would never have thought that Tom would take the initiative, but then again, they had only known each other for two or three days. Wrong line of thought – this would jut lead to new worries about whether this was right. But James didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel, wanted to drown in all that was Tom. He ran his fingers through Tom’s long hair, then slowly down his back towards his hips. It was as if he could feel Tom’s love radiating through his soft but marred skin. He was beautiful. All those scars could not taint his beauty, they weren’t malicious enemies anymore but had become one with Tom’s body, they told stories of the past, just like the stars on the night sky. One day he would ask Tom to tell their story and maybe he would tell some of his own, but this night was not for talking and the past, but for the present and the music of their hearts.
His lips left Tom’s and wandered along his jaw line towards his deliciously exposed neck and collarbone. James couldn’t help but wonder what Tom tasted like. He couldn’t quite place it, it was unlike anything else – it was Heaven. He tasted Heaven. James moaned into the crook of Tom’s neck as his hands traveled lower to feel the younger man’s need. And he couldn’t hold back any longer and bringing their lips together again, he rolled on top of Tom.
Tom gasped as James did his own exploring. He wasn't afraid, because he knew James wouldn't hurt him. He trusted James completely. He was trembling though, as James rolled on top of him. He spread his legs out of instinct, so that James might be more comfortable. And that brought their groins together, James still in his breeches... and even so, it felt good. His back arched and he let out a low, keening moan. His feet planted themselves flat on the bed, legs spreading a little wider. He was breathing heavily now, his body flushed, his arms wrapping around James, roaming over his back. It just felt so good, so right. He was sure, were he to die this very moment, he would die a happy man. He wanted to speak, to beg for more... more of what, he didn't know. Anything. One long leg moved up to wrap around James' waist, his lips clinging desperately to his lovers’. Caressing, nipping, sucking... anything everything, until their lips were both red and swollen from kissing. And even then he wanted more. He was insatiable.
James inwardly cursed himself for not removing his breeches earlier, now he was not sure he would be able to let go of Tom even for that short moment. It was an almost unbearable pleasure to be so close to him, wrapped in his arms and strong legs. And those heavenly moans of that addictive throat… It was just all too much – at yet, not enough. He needed to feel more. So he freed himself for a short moment from Tom’s embrace – with great difficulty because Tom was not very keen on letting him go even for such a short time – pushed down his breeches and impatiently flung it onto the floor. In no time he was back in his loving cage that he had no intention of escaping from. He gasped as he now felt warm skin where there had been only the irritating confines of his breeches before.
He came rapidly closer to losing control as he rocked his hips in unison with Tom. It was incredible. He had never felt so complete in his whole life, only maybe at sea. But Tom was very much like the sea. Just like James. They were her sons, her admirers, her lovers. They served her obediently but also ruled her. And the way Tom moved under his body, James couldn’t help but feel as if he was riding the waves in a storm. A storm that could not be defeated, that would drown him, claim him and never let him go again. But he didn’t mind, on the contrary, he craved it. He could feel the storm approach and the waves crashing down on him heavily, more and more, faster, uncontrollably, pulling him down into the dark abyss of desire, need and love.
Tom didn't know how to make it last, though he wanted to. He could feel something building inside him, a warmth swirling in his stomach. He found his hand wandering lower, cupping James' firm rear. He was caught between kissing James and moaning into his mouth like a wanton whore. As he got closer and closer to the edge; More, please, love... flowing from his lips only to turn into a steady, breathless chant on one word. One name.
"James." Over and over he said his name, as if praying to a god, "James." He became more needy, more desperate. "Oh god, oh James... James... my love... my James..." His hands were moving up James' back again, grasping his shoulder. Unknowingly digging his nails into him as he let out a final cry, arching up as far as the body above him would allow. His eyes clamped shut. Sweat glistening from his skin, flushed in pleasure. A white hot pleasure shot through every part of his being, his body felt as if every nerve was alive, fire in his veins. And then he collapsed into a panting mass on the bed. His grip loosened, but still clinging to his lover, as if he'd never let go, a sticky something between them. And the first thing that came to mind was, that he'd really like to do that again.
Hearing his name being born again and again on Tom’s lips was a more beautiful melody than the violin could ever produce. To feel Tom tensing under his body and hear him cry out his release pushed James over the edge too with a deep moan of Tom’s name. For a moment he felt the world stop and the moon weep star-tears, and the wind hummed the music Tom had played, the music that had led James to his house. For a long time he could just lay there, trying to get his breathing back to normal, holding Tom close. He didn’t want this moment to end. He didn’t want to think again, just feel. And he didn’t want Tom to think either.
What if he regretted this, that it happened so fast, or that it happened at all. Tom had never been with a man before, maybe now that he saw what it was like he realized that he didn’t want it, maybe… James of course knew all this was rubbish but he still desperately wanted to know what Tom thought of all this but he didn’t dare to ask because he dreaded the answer. After a while he freed himself from Tom’s embrace and lay back on the bed but he immediately pulled Tom close again and gave him an innocent kiss on the lips.
He wouldn't have had to pull Tom with him, given the chance. His body following. He kissed him back, a simple "Mm..." On his lips, and he settled against James, resting his head on the other man's chest, listening to his heart beat. He draped an arm and a leg over James, he was warm enough to sleep without covers, he was sure of it. So he didn't worry about it, just simply relaxed with his lover. He was silent a few minutes before he finally spoke. His throat a little hoarse from just how vocal he'd been, in a way his voice was not used to.
"I know I said I wouldn't say it so soon James... but I know it... especially know... lying with you like this... listening to your heart beat..." He absently pressed a kiss to the spot on James' chest that was closest to his lips. "I love you, James." He admitted, "I know it true as the sun comes up each morning... you're for me, James... I love you."
One of his small, shy smiles crept to James’ lips. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it hurt. He couldn’t say it back, though he wanted to, he just held Tom close, stroking the man’s soft hair dreamily. He wanted this moment to last forever. He didn’t want to leave but he knew he would have to very soon.
“Tom” he finally said “You know I can’t stay, I have to get home before dawn.” he whispered, hoping that Tom would feel in his words how hard it was for him to say that, to think that. But he couldn’t voice that either. He had never been a man of many words. He liked to listen and observe rather than talk. That’s why he loved literature and music. He could be part of an experience, could feel, without actually taking part in it. Voicing his emotions wasn’t always easy for him so he tried to convey them by actions.
Those who could understand this, liked him – like Elizabeth, with whom he had shared the hatred of this snobbish society, or Will, who could easily relate to notions like loyalty or honesty, and his longing for freedom, well, that he shared with… no, he mustn't think of him. James could only hope Tom would understand him too, with time – all of him, not just one or two traits of his personality but that complexity that was every human being’s own. Maybe, one day…
Tom could feel it, could feel what James what telling him.
"I don't need words, James... don't worry." He assured the other, lifting his head up. "But you do." He scooted up a bit, pressing a kiss to James. "I can hear you without you ever saying a word." He blushed then, "Most of the time... as least..." He ran his fingers through James' hair. "I know you don't want to leave... and you know I don't want you to go... but we have a few hours until dawn... could we enjoy them together? Just stay together until you truly must go?" He dropped his head on the other's shoulder, and then popped it back up a moment later with a glint in his eyes. "Do you go to church?" He asked, without waiting for an answer. "I don't... and no one but the skeleton crew works at the fort on Sundays... you wouldn't have to work... I wouldn't... you could stay the night on Saturday, and we could spend the whole day together Sunday... You wouldn't have to leave until the evening... preferably after I make you eat something..." He grinned, "What do you think? It could work... we could climb down the bluff to the beach... or even lie in bed all day..." He hugged his lover, cuddling back up against him. "Just so I could hold you longer."
Tom might have figured James out very soon, but he was full of surprises to James. Who would have thought he could be so practical about these things? James certainly couldn’t have thought of these arrangements yet. But he was glad Tom did, it gave him hope that there might be a way to be together. He had his doubts though, whether this would work – apparently Tom didn’t count on the good observation skills of the people, maybe because he had spent so much time at sea, there one can expect loyalty from the men but here… Still, there was hope and he would do anything to make it work. He just nodded with a small smile.
“Thank you” he added silently as his eyes slowly closed and he fell asleep with Tom in his arms.
Authors: GoldenGardenias and SunsetDawn20
Rating: PG to NC-17
This Chapter: R
Summary: This is the fifth chapter of our Pirates of the Caribbean/Master and Commander crossover fic; filled with various pairings. To learn more, visit the site for this story. HERE
This Chapter: James is led to his fate by a mysterious fiddler
A/N: Blue parts are written by GoldenGardenias, Brown by SunsentDawn20.
Previous chapters can be found here.
Five
The slowly setting sun still found James in his office, bending over official letters and reports. He had been trying all afternoon to get some work done but while his eyes dutifully scanned the texts he was to read, his mind wouldn’t take in the words. He couldn’t help but think of Tom and Will. He would have to go and see them, today, if possible – it wouldn’t do any good to put it off. But it was hard. He was scared of talking to either of them.
Oddly enough he had less fear of talking to Will. He had no idea what he would say – nothing he’d say could make it any better, nothing would soothe the boy’s aching heart – but he was sure he’d find the right words once they were face to face. He had known Will for long years, he had been like an older brother for the boy and later his best friend. He read Will like and open book – he knew his fears, his hopes, his pain, he knew Will as if he held the boy’s heart in the palm of his hand.
But Tom. That was a different matter altogether. He was a mystery to James. His eyes spoke volumes of his feelings, true enough, he wore no masks like James, but James had not yet learned their language. While with Will he didn’t know what to say, with Tom he didn’t know how to say it. He wanted to tell Tom how deeply he felt for him but he knew he would not be able to utter those three words yet even if he desperately wanted to. It was still too soon. He needed Tom to know but he couldn’t say the words. He would have to find a different way.
James sighed and buried his head in his hands. He should be going. He should get it over with. He stood up and crossed his office with uncertain steps. Who should he talk to first? Tom. Yes, Tom. He needed to understand. James decided and flung the door open. He was walking fast towards Tom’s office. He hoped he would find Tom there, since he had no idea where he lived. But with every step he took he became more and more uncertain. Was this really the right path? Maybe Will deserved to be the first he talked to – his fearful heart argued. Anything would be better than having to explain everything to Tom.
It was a childish fear but somehow James felt as if any feelings he had in the past for anybody but Tom would weigh on him like unforgivable sins. Of course, Tom knew that he had had and lost a lover once, and accepted it, but James felt uneasy about telling Tom about these past temptations. That’s all they had been though – temptations. Not once, since he had lost Dan, did he give into temptation. Mostly it was easy, James was not somebody to be taken over by pure desire, but on two occasions his strength injured his heart deeply – once with Will, the other he did not think about, he wouldn’t allow himself to remember. And even if these small flames were of the past and he was sure, Tom would just smile at his feeling of betrayal, he still had the urge to run away from the confrontation with his past.
By the time he got to Tom’s office, his heart was beating so fast that it almost hurt. He put his hand on the door handle but immediately pulled it away. He couldn’t do this. Not yet. He quickly turned away and almost ran all the way to Brown’s smithy.
*
It would have done James no great injustice to open that door, for Tom had left nearly an hour before. He'd stayed later than was needed, going over new policies, and talking to Theodore and Andrew about what they thought was most important for him to know about his new post. They had laughed and gone out for a pint. Tom found them to be good friends, even though they were not entirely close yet, they were companionable. He still missed young William, and Bondon, and Jack's childish jokes. But he'd been trying his best not to think about it. Young Mr. Blakeny was assigned back to England, it would be good for the little blonde to see his parents once more. Barrett, he didn't rightly know what happened to the coxswain... And Aubrey... Jack... Tom willed himself not to think about it, and not to continue to drink with the rest of the men. It was easy to get carried away in song, and hopes of drowning out memories. But it was not the way to go.
He left after two drinks, to wonder the streets of Port Royal, entirely too sober, and left to his thoughts. In attempt to lose himself once more, he went to the market, most vendors still about until the sun was nearly completely gone. Some packing away. He moved along buying enough to start stocking his cabinets and be able to cook for the evening, and bring for lunch the next day. The baker frowned at Tom shopping on his own, no servant doing it for him. But his wife was kind, slipping Tom a few recipes on his way out. And thus he made his way home as the last rays of light glistened over the ocean. He set his things on the kitchen table, and made his way up the stairs to the bedroom of his modest home. He discarded most of his uniform, leaving on his shirt, and clothes from the waist down, but the upper layers were removed. Back down the stairs he went, absently brushing his hair on the way, ribbon between his lips.
Once down the stairs, he set the brush on the mantle, the living room the first place you entered and where the stairs were located. He braided his hair as not to have it in his way, and started a fire to warm the house, moving on to the kitchen to put things away and start dinner for himself. Which was not nearly as simple as the recipe booklet suggested. He had no idea what it meant to broil something... so in the end, he made the first thing that came to mind... stew. He cut up veggies, beef, and herbs. He experimented a little, slicing oranges from his tree and tossing them in the pot as well, and moving it all over the kitchen fire. He set the table, which was meant for servants, but he wasn't about to eat in the lonely dinning room. He found his crate of spirits in the cupboard, and allowed himself wine. Everything ready, butter, jam, and bread on the table... he just had to wait for the main course to finish. That wasn't so hard.
*
The night was hot, the slight breeze from the sea couldn’t cool down the heavy air. But James didn’t notice. All he could do, as he rushed across the empty streets of Port Royal, was to curse himself for his cowardice. He should have talked to Tom first. But when he almost decided to turn back again, he realized he had already reached the smithy. As he slowly pushed the heavy door open he heard the rhythmical sound of a hammer kissing hot steel. But as he entered and shut the door behind his back, the sound suddenly stopped.
“Why did you come?” Will asked without even looking up from his work. The cold, hard edge in Will’s voice hurt James but he tried to ignore it as he stepped closer to the blacksmith.
“We should talk” he said more calmly than he really felt.
“You love that man. I could see it in your eyes. So there’s nothing to talk about.” Will said silently as he tried to put some distance between them but James grabbed his arm to stop him from moving away.
“My feelings for Tom don’t change the feelings I have for you. I care about you, Will. I can’t give up on your friendship.” Will smiled sadly and put his hand gently over James’ heart as if he was hoping to change its desires.
“I value your friendship, James, more than anything I have in this world and I wouldn’t throw it away, ever. But it’s not enough. I can’t stop craving more.”
“I know.” James whispered laying his hand over Will’s, squeezing it slightly. They were so close. He could almost feel the need radiating from Will’s tanned skin, could almost see the flames that set the boy’s heart on fire flickering in those chocolate brown eyes. He knew what would come next, he knew it even before Will’s trembling lips reached his own. And he let it happen. He wanted to give something to Will, a memory to cling to until that fire would be put out by a new love. James didn’t pull away until Will finally stopped the kiss and turned away with a heavy sigh.
“Go now.” he whispered, not looking at James, who slowly turned and stepped out into the hot night.
*
Tom checked the stew, the smell was making his stomach growl. He sighed heavily, and moved back upstairs, taking a case from under his bed and bringing it downstairs with him. He moved into the kitchen, checking the stew once more before moving just outside the kitchen door which led to the medium sized garden of herbs, veggies, and flowers. He set the case on the step, unlatching it, and looking at the beauty that lay within. Finally crafted dark wood shining up at him. He lifted it lovingly from the case, using a bit of cotton cloth as a chin rest. He picked up the bow next, in his right hand. He held the instrument between chin and left shoulder, stretching his fingers before placing the long digits on the strings. His fingers were long and graceful, made for playing the violin or perhaps the piano- which he could play mildly well. But his passion lay with the violin. He drew the bow across the strings, tuning the instrument before he paused, thinking of what he might play.
Finally he closed his eyes, listening to what he was feeling inside. His first notes were frustrated and angry, from the days events... but then, he saw a pair of green eyes... and the real tune came into form, something formal and elegant like James was. But as he thought of what lay beneath, the tune became sad, slow and melancholy. But it was disturbed by James' smile, and the tune picked up once more. And for a time was happy, the mere thought of what they might have... it rolled up and down, just like the rise and fall of his emotions with his thoughts. As his memories chased him, he played a song for the sea, for the HMS Surprise, for the good times he'd had on her. A lament to his past. To Jack, young Will, the open sea, the salt on his skin, the sea spray on his face, the sunsets, the doldrums, the starlit waters, battles, the thrill of the chase... but in the end he was brought back to the day... and to James.
James was wandering up and down Port Royal’s dark streets. He was still too much in thought about what had just happened and what still lay ahead, and it made him restless. He needed to think, to walk and with every step he took to leave one more piece of his troubling thoughts behind. He wasn’t watching where he was going, only let his legs take him wherever they wanted. It was strangely comforting to let his legs take control over his mind. He could almost feel how with every little movement of his muscles he became freer from his worries and fears. An invisible power seemed to guide him. A force that grew stronger and stronger and finally materialised into the soft song of a heart translated into music by a violin. It led James to a street he had never seen before, or maybe it just looked different in daylight.
He moved closer to the source of that magical sound, drinking in the tunes that he couldn’t and didn’t want to escape from. It was soft but sad and it was as if the mysterious violinist was holding James’ heart in his hands instead of the instrument. But every now and then the music changed, it was filled with hope and even joy. It brought back memories of the past, of Dan, how they had lived and loved for that painfully short time before they were forced apart. Memories of being pushed into the small lake in clothes, making Mother angry by skipping dinner, laying in the soft green grass, long fingers tracing invisible lines on his chest, that first kiss which was followed by many more, and strong arms holding him. Then being discovered, forced apart, punished and the sounds turned angry but changed again soon into his frightening confusion of two days ago when he saw Tom for the first time. The doubts, the suppressed longing, the unvoiced hopes. A promise: “I’m not giving up on you”. And it drove tears in James’ eyes. Was it possible to express all his past and future feelings in music? Who was the magician who conjured up his Heaven and Hell and turned it into harmony? He had to know. And before he could stop himself, he knocked on the door.
Tom's tune ended a bit abruptly as he picked up the sound of knocking at his door. He lay his beloved violin in its case, carrying it into the house, leaving it open on the kitchen table, as he planned to go back to it. He moved to the door, absently tugging his braid over his shoulder nervously wondering who it could be. And whether or not he'd be presentable, it would be rude to leave them at the door to run upstairs and change. So he fidgeted at the door, before swinging it open.
"Can I help-" He began, but cut short as he saw who it was. His eyes widened in surprise, only to smile warmly at James, his lips mimicking the smile in his eyes. "James..." He said almost breathlessly, "I... you... I mean... this is a surprise. Come in, come in!" He opened the door wider, moving out of the way to allow the other man in.
"I was just waiting for a stew to finish... should I put out an extra setting?" He offered, flicking the braid back over his shoulder, and attempting to straighten his clothes the best he could. Even if it was pointless. He left the door open for the other and quickly moved back into the kitchen, already setting another place setting. "I didn't know you'd stop by, you should have told me, I would have attempted something more than a simple stew. I was trying to give it a Caribbean taste, so I'm not entirely sure how it will come out... smells good though... and wine... I have wine out, but if you'd prefer something else, I can get it. I have port, cognac, probably some rum, gin... and I know I have some rice wine from that stop in Asia minor last year..." He was rambling without realizing it.
His home was untidy from moving in, didn’t look or feel lived in yet. It was just sort of, empty. But he had a lot of unpacking to do, just had not had the time as of yet. He would have set up the dining room had he known James would show up. A captain and man of his class was used to much finer things. Even aboard the Surprise, dinner with Jack and select high ranking crew and the doctor- they'd used fine crystal, and polished silver. Tom had humble utensils of steel, his glasses were merely that, glass. His plates were a gift from Jack though, white china with gold trim. Anything else was mix-matched. Cups and cooking tools from different countries, things he picked up on his travels. He simply could go nowhere without finding something interesting he just had to buy, or collect. He'd already gotten several large shells that had pictures carved into them. One of a sunset, one of a ship, a bird, a tree, and a rose. All already set through out the house.
Surprise? Fear? Joy? Love? James didn’t know what he was feeling as he saw Tom opening the door, maybe all of these and so much more. Words weren’t enough, only music came close. Tom was smiling, but seemed to become nervous at seeing him there. He was rambling about some stew and before James could even say anything, Tom had already disappeared into the kitchen. So he shut the door and followed the other man. It was endearing how Tom seemed unable to stop talking or moving. And James just watched, not even looking at his surroundings, unable to think of anything else than holding Tom close and never letting go. Never.
“It was beautiful.” he finally said, trying to put an end to Tom’s fidgeting. “The way you played the violin.” he added softly, searching for Tom’s eyes. “It was… as if you had melted… my heart into music.”
Tom paused, eyes soft as he looked at James a long moment. "I didn't know anyone was listening..." He said softly, moving over to James, though still keeping some distance. He didn't know what today had meant, and he didn't want to make any assumptions. He saw how the Turner boy had looked at James. No, he could not assume. He looked down, clasping his hands together, if only so he would not reach out for the man before him.
"I thought about you more than once while playing." He spoke softly, almost shyly. "I..." He cleared his throat, "Are you hungry?" He asked, looking at him once more. "I'm sure the stew is finished now..." He took as step, as if to move towards James, but turned instead. Moving to the pot, and using an iron to turn it away from the fire. Serving it into the bowls he'd put aside, and setting them on the table. Fidgeting again before looking at James.
"Was the rest of your day well?" He asked, attempting to pick up the subject, but very unsure if he should. He was much more shy, hardly able to look at James. He didn't dare to hope, yet it was all he could do.
He stepped closer to Tom, so close that they were almost touching. He raised his hand and tentatively touched Tom’s slightly flushed cheek, gently brushing over his scar. James’ heart was racing and dancing like it was possessed by the Devil. His body was on fire, like it has never been before and he knew, only Tom’s touch could tame the destructive flames. He needed to feel, to taste, to love. So he leaned closer and brushed his trembling lips to Tom’s scar – that little imperfection that only made the man more beautiful in James’ eyes. Then he traveled lower and lower until he found Tom’s slightly parted lips waiting for him. He could help but smile into the kiss as he pulled Tom in his arms and held him strong. He was still smiling as he finally pulled away slightly and said:
“Yes, I am hungry.”
Tom's eyes fluttered shut as James' lips touched his skin. When James' lips met his own, his heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but melt against the other man. Food was suddenly the last thing on his mind as he wrapped his arms around James and nuzzled his face against the other man's neck.
"You're still mine, then?" He asked against the other's skin. He could feel the wetness in his eyes, and pressed his face further against James' warm skin. "I was worried..." He said honestly, holding him tighter. "He was such a pretty young lad... I... I couldn't image you thinking twice about me... I... I should know better. You wouldn't do that would you?"
He breathed, knowing James would feel the wetness at his collar. But these were tears of thanks, of happiness that James had come back to him. That there was no hesitance in his touch.
"It would be too soon to say anything... far too soon. But surely... you must know what I feel for you James... I feel it like I have never felt in my life. This is no passing fancy..."
James tightened his arms around Tom as an answer to the silent plea in the other’s embrace. “I know” he whispered against Tom’s ear. “It’s the same I feel. And we don’t need words for that, it was all in your music.” He slightly pushed himself away and leaned close to Tom’s lips once again. “I’m yours. Don’t ever leave me.” A promise and a request. A kiss. Slow, tentative, promising more.
"Never... I'll never leave you..." Tom murmured against James' lips, hands moving up to remove James' hat and wig. The hair pins were dropping in James' hat, followed by the wig, which was tossed to the counter. He had wanted to touch James' hair since that moonlit evening. He was happy to be able to finally touch the dark brown strands. Darker than his own hair, which was lighter still because of days spent in the sun. But amazingly soft to the touch, he could hardly believe it, in fact. He wanted to look at him, see the effect taking the wig off had on his appearance... but he couldn't get himself to break from the kiss. In fact, he found that his lips were moving. He was getting bold, turning his head to the side a bit more to get still closer.
Without his hat and wig James almost felt naked, more vulnerable but also free from the restraints imposed on his life. He felt strangely liberated. It was a wonderful feeling to be pressed against Tom, to taste him, to belong to him. He moaned into the kiss as he felt Tom become bolder, more experimenting, almost… eager. And it only made James want him more. Without even noticing it, he pushed Tom against the table and started kissing him in earnest.
This kiss was nothing like the ones they had shared before. It was demanding and full of desire. At the same time James couldn’t help but notice how his body was eagerly responding to Tom’s closeness and loving embrace. It was just perfect. But his stomach chose exactly this very inopportune moment to protest loudly against James’ obliviousness to certain needs of his body, since he hadn’t eaten ever since that rather awkward scene in his office that morning. And James couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“I wasn’t joking, you know, I really am hungry.”
Tom couldn't help but laugh as well... or well, giggle. He looked up at James, his body liking his current position very much. But he straightened up all the same.
"Then let us sit down and eat." He gave James a peck on the lips, and worming his way out from between the other man and the table to sit. And he really needed to sit. He was light headed and um... well his breeches were feeling a bit tighter than usual. His face was flushed as he looked to James.
"I hope you like it... I was trying something new..." He was desperately trying not to throw himself at the other man... because that would just be impolite. But his chair magically moved closer until their knees were touching. He really couldn't help himself. The effect James had on him was utterly amazing. He was sure if it weren't for his skin, he'd have been a puddle of goo on the floor by now. Which would also, probably have been impolite... and messy...
James smiled inwardly as he felt Tom push his chair closer to his, so that their knees were touching. It was nothing compared to the position they had been in just seconds ago but it still felt intimate and comforting and he very much needed some reassurance that everything was fine. After all, it was easy to shut his brain up while pressed against the eager body of Tom, but dinner, no matter how exciting the food was, couldn’t provide for enough distraction and James felt nervous again.
So he did the best thing he could think of, he was rambling. He told Tom about his house, Molly Eidan, his housekeeper, and her mother hen instincts, his adventures at sea, books he loved and wanted Tom to read – anything that would make it impossible for him to think of anything. And every now and again he leaned over the table and brushed his lips against Tom’s without as much as an explanation and then carried on talking as if nothing had happened.
Tom smile and listened, nodding or making a comment here and there. But mostly just listened. He was amazingly happy with how his stew had come out, and allowed himself a second helping. Giving one to James as well, he decided that James needed to eat more anyway. He seemed like a man who took care of others but not himself. Tom decided that he would make sure to take care of James. By the time the meal was finished, Tom found that his hand had already entwined itself with James', which he really didn't mind.
He stood, clearing the table, and insisting James didn't do a thing. He washed and dried his dishes, and cleaned off the table before looking at James again. He didn't realize what dinner had meant. Dinner was dinner... but... now it was late... and he still didn't want James to go, and just couldn't see pushing him on to the streets at this late hour. And he was shy again. He worried his lower lip, feeling a flush coming to his cheeks.
"Were you... wanting to stay the night?" He asked, and quickly added, "I have a small guest bedroom... or..." Or you could stay in my room, but he couldn't get the words out. He definitely would not mind sharing his bed with another warm body. Especially if that warm body was the ever so dashing Captain Norrington.
How he wanted to say yes, to stay in Tom’s house even if it was only in the guest room. Of course he would have preferred sharing a bed with Tom. How wonderful it would be to curl around the other man and drift into sleep to the even beating of his heart, how wonderful it would be to wake up entangled in strong, loving arms, how wonderful it would be if the first thing he saw in the morning was Tom’s happy, almost boyish smile.
But he knew it would be quite a sight if he just waltzed out of Tom’s house in the morning in broad daylight, it would be the main gossip in the streets in mere hours. Not to mention Mrs. Eidan who would roast him alive if he didn’t return home for the night. And an angry Molly Eidan was much more frightening than a whole town full of gossips.
“Thank you, I’d love to but I think it would be better if I went home.”
Tom nodded, he wouldn't beg. Even if he wanted to. So he smiled softly, though his mind was trying desperately to think of reasons for James to stay longer. But sadly, he could think of nothing significant. So, instead, he moved over to James and threw his arms around him.
"I could walk you home..." He attempted, fingers finding their way into the hair he'd freed from James' wig. "You look so much younger without it..." He mused, "I would guess you near my own age with your wig off... you don't seem so hard... such a man of stone..." He nuzzled their faces together. "Without the braid you must simply look a man instead of a God..." He leaned his head up to purr into James' ear. "If I stayed... I could leave before dawn... no one would ever know..." So yes, he was rather fond of the idea of lying with James. Of course his mind did not go farther... he still did not know the extent of what two men could do together.
How could someone so innocent be so seductive without even noticing it? The way Tom spoke against his ear was intoxicating – his low, soft voice, they way he formed each word… it was like liquid silk. And it made James almost give in, but no, it was just too dangerous – something Tom apparently didn’t take into his calculations.
“No, Tom, I think it’s better if I go alone.” He said and moved closer to Tom for an innocent goodbye kiss, but in a second he was holding the other man’s body closely pressed to his own, unable to let go, not wanting to let go. And in less than five seconds he simply couldn’t remember one good argument for leaving.
Tom had no complaints at all. In fact, he was sure he wouldn't be able to let go of James this time. Not with the way his body seemed to go back to its exact state just before they'd had dinner. One hand in James' hair, the other at the nape of his neck. His head cocked to the side, lips moving against James', pressing his body as close to the other man's as possible. Too late he realized it was probably not a good idea because of obvious reasons... but it was too late to pull back now. And all he could think of was more. Kissing him more, touching him more, feeling more of him, seeing more of him. He wanted anything and everything James would give to him. At this very moment, he would do anything for the man without a second thought, he was completely lost. He'd never felt such passion, or such an intense state of being. And all he knew was that he didn't want it to end.
He had really only wanted an innocent kiss. Honestly. Nothing more. He would stop the kiss immediately. In a second. Ok, one more minute. Oh, God. He could feel all his control slip away as he felt Tom needily moving against his body. How he wanted to touch, to be touched, everywhere, but not even in this blissful moment could he completely switch off his mind and worries. Of course, Tom had mentioned a man, who he had once had feelings for but it never came up again and James had no idea how much Tom knew of these things. He did seem terribly innocent in many ways and James had the feeling that this part of his life was no exception.
Not that he himself had much experience in this area. The only person he had ever done more with than just slight kissing at most was Dan, and they could only call a terribly short time of happiness their own. Of course, he had had many possibilities in the last years, but he always managed to keep his body under control and nothing had ever happened. Which was something he almost regretted now. He was not used to feeling insecure and inexperienced. It wouldn’t matter of course if Tom had at least some knowledge of these things but it seemed very obvious that he was to take control and he was not sure he could do that. But he knew he could not back out now. Tom’s need apparently bordered on desperation and he himself was quite sure he couldn’t stop now even if his life depended on it.
“Tom…” he whispered against those sweet lips but the other man didn’t seem to notice, he was too lost in the sensations of their bodies pressed together. “Tom” he said louder, breathing heavily. “Bedroom. Where…”
"Upstairs..." Tom gasped, taking James' hand and leading him... well, tugging him along. It a few minutes, Tom was swinging the door shut behind them, lighting the three bedside candles, and pouncing on James once more. He was simply eager, pressing himself against the other man, and kissing him passionately. Even venturing far enough to flick his tongue over James' lips once or twice, just wanting to know all of him. But realized that they'd really have to move on from this.
"What do you want me to do?" He asked between kisses, attempting to removed James' jacket with trembling fingers. He didn't want to seem like he didn't know what he was doing. It was... well... embarrassing. A man his age shouldn't be a virgin! But he'd never been interested in the women who'd batted their eyes at him. And... he'd never been able to see past Jack. Even though there were quite a few men who had tried. It would be the same now. He would never be able to see past James, there would be no other man in his world save the handsome captain.
James blushed at Tom’s question and pulled away a bit. “I…” he didn’t know what to say. He had no clue himself. All he knew was that didn’t want to let go of Tom, and he was quite fine as long as they were kissing and touching, it was spontaneous and needed no thinking only feeling. But now Tom had asked the question James dreaded so much. He didn’t know the answer. Actually he did, he was content with whatever Tom was willing to give, but telling him that wouldn’t help Tom if he was looking for some help.
“Tom.” he finally decided to ask. “Have you ever… I mean… with that man…” Great. Now he was becoming even redder. Fantastic. Why couldn’t he do anything properly?
Tom bit his lower lip, finally getting James' jacket off. He moved away, turning his back to James as he unbuttoned the four buttons along the frill of his shirt.
"He..." He took a breath. He didn't speak right away, instead untied the ribbon of his braid, and took it out. "We never... he loved his doctor, not me." He said softly, untucking his shirt, and pulling it over his head. His back still turned to James, he couldn't help it. He was shy... and... well it was embarrassing to admit.
"But I'll do whatever you want me to do." He said, toeing off his shoes, before moving to the bed, sitting to pull off his stockings. Leaving him in just his breeches, hair falling over his shoulders. It was so rare that he wore it down... but he thought it only fitting for James to see him in a natural state. "I don't care what it is... as long as it pleases you..." He said softly.
James had a very hard time concentrating on Tom’s words, being a quite a bit distracted by the sight of the deliciously white skin of his back. It took him quite a while to take in the meaning of Tom’s words. It touched him how Tom seemed to be more interested in giving than experiencing pleasure and seemed not at all concerned about what lay ahead of him. James could still remember his first time all those years ago. He had felt more fear than passion that night. Dan had been wonderfully patient and gentle but James had still been trembling all over at every new touch, every new sensation. Tom seemed much more confident. Of course, James had been much younger than Tom was now, barely 16. Dan had been older, of course, more experienced.
16 years. More than 16 years had passed since then. And now here he was, with Tom. Not knowing much more than 15 years ago but being in charge. It was terrifying. But he wanted this more than anything in this world, so he undressed, just as Tom had and stepped closer to the bed, clasping Tom’s face in his hands and claiming those addictive lips once again. When he released Tom, he knelt down in front of him, still looking into his eyes and smiled more bravely than he actually felt.
“Listen to your heart, that’s what I’m doing.” he said and pulled Tom into a searing kiss.
Tom felt his stomach flutter, and he found himself tugging them both onto the bed, rolling himself on top of James, straddling the other man's hips. Mainly so he could work open his breeches, then he rolled off James to his back so he could wiggle out of them and kick them to the floor. His body was pretty obviously happy with the current goings on, it seemed the tall lad was not lacking either. He rolled to his side, pressing his lips to James' again, one hand curled into a pillow, the other moving over the other man's chest. Playing with a hair his own chest lacked, embarrassingly enough for him- compared to men aboard a ship a bit younger than him and up. His fingers were careful, and gentle. Tracing over James' skin like a blind man would to see. Tom was doing his best to take it all in , to memorize the feel and the texture. He didn't know when he would have the chance again. So he wanted to embed it into his mind forever. Each scar, each area of roughness or silky smoothness. Each curve, each ripple of muscle. He wanted to remember it all.
James would never have thought that Tom would take the initiative, but then again, they had only known each other for two or three days. Wrong line of thought – this would jut lead to new worries about whether this was right. But James didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel, wanted to drown in all that was Tom. He ran his fingers through Tom’s long hair, then slowly down his back towards his hips. It was as if he could feel Tom’s love radiating through his soft but marred skin. He was beautiful. All those scars could not taint his beauty, they weren’t malicious enemies anymore but had become one with Tom’s body, they told stories of the past, just like the stars on the night sky. One day he would ask Tom to tell their story and maybe he would tell some of his own, but this night was not for talking and the past, but for the present and the music of their hearts.
His lips left Tom’s and wandered along his jaw line towards his deliciously exposed neck and collarbone. James couldn’t help but wonder what Tom tasted like. He couldn’t quite place it, it was unlike anything else – it was Heaven. He tasted Heaven. James moaned into the crook of Tom’s neck as his hands traveled lower to feel the younger man’s need. And he couldn’t hold back any longer and bringing their lips together again, he rolled on top of Tom.
Tom gasped as James did his own exploring. He wasn't afraid, because he knew James wouldn't hurt him. He trusted James completely. He was trembling though, as James rolled on top of him. He spread his legs out of instinct, so that James might be more comfortable. And that brought their groins together, James still in his breeches... and even so, it felt good. His back arched and he let out a low, keening moan. His feet planted themselves flat on the bed, legs spreading a little wider. He was breathing heavily now, his body flushed, his arms wrapping around James, roaming over his back. It just felt so good, so right. He was sure, were he to die this very moment, he would die a happy man. He wanted to speak, to beg for more... more of what, he didn't know. Anything. One long leg moved up to wrap around James' waist, his lips clinging desperately to his lovers’. Caressing, nipping, sucking... anything everything, until their lips were both red and swollen from kissing. And even then he wanted more. He was insatiable.
James inwardly cursed himself for not removing his breeches earlier, now he was not sure he would be able to let go of Tom even for that short moment. It was an almost unbearable pleasure to be so close to him, wrapped in his arms and strong legs. And those heavenly moans of that addictive throat… It was just all too much – at yet, not enough. He needed to feel more. So he freed himself for a short moment from Tom’s embrace – with great difficulty because Tom was not very keen on letting him go even for such a short time – pushed down his breeches and impatiently flung it onto the floor. In no time he was back in his loving cage that he had no intention of escaping from. He gasped as he now felt warm skin where there had been only the irritating confines of his breeches before.
He came rapidly closer to losing control as he rocked his hips in unison with Tom. It was incredible. He had never felt so complete in his whole life, only maybe at sea. But Tom was very much like the sea. Just like James. They were her sons, her admirers, her lovers. They served her obediently but also ruled her. And the way Tom moved under his body, James couldn’t help but feel as if he was riding the waves in a storm. A storm that could not be defeated, that would drown him, claim him and never let him go again. But he didn’t mind, on the contrary, he craved it. He could feel the storm approach and the waves crashing down on him heavily, more and more, faster, uncontrollably, pulling him down into the dark abyss of desire, need and love.
Tom didn't know how to make it last, though he wanted to. He could feel something building inside him, a warmth swirling in his stomach. He found his hand wandering lower, cupping James' firm rear. He was caught between kissing James and moaning into his mouth like a wanton whore. As he got closer and closer to the edge; More, please, love... flowing from his lips only to turn into a steady, breathless chant on one word. One name.
"James." Over and over he said his name, as if praying to a god, "James." He became more needy, more desperate. "Oh god, oh James... James... my love... my James..." His hands were moving up James' back again, grasping his shoulder. Unknowingly digging his nails into him as he let out a final cry, arching up as far as the body above him would allow. His eyes clamped shut. Sweat glistening from his skin, flushed in pleasure. A white hot pleasure shot through every part of his being, his body felt as if every nerve was alive, fire in his veins. And then he collapsed into a panting mass on the bed. His grip loosened, but still clinging to his lover, as if he'd never let go, a sticky something between them. And the first thing that came to mind was, that he'd really like to do that again.
Hearing his name being born again and again on Tom’s lips was a more beautiful melody than the violin could ever produce. To feel Tom tensing under his body and hear him cry out his release pushed James over the edge too with a deep moan of Tom’s name. For a moment he felt the world stop and the moon weep star-tears, and the wind hummed the music Tom had played, the music that had led James to his house. For a long time he could just lay there, trying to get his breathing back to normal, holding Tom close. He didn’t want this moment to end. He didn’t want to think again, just feel. And he didn’t want Tom to think either.
What if he regretted this, that it happened so fast, or that it happened at all. Tom had never been with a man before, maybe now that he saw what it was like he realized that he didn’t want it, maybe… James of course knew all this was rubbish but he still desperately wanted to know what Tom thought of all this but he didn’t dare to ask because he dreaded the answer. After a while he freed himself from Tom’s embrace and lay back on the bed but he immediately pulled Tom close again and gave him an innocent kiss on the lips.
He wouldn't have had to pull Tom with him, given the chance. His body following. He kissed him back, a simple "Mm..." On his lips, and he settled against James, resting his head on the other man's chest, listening to his heart beat. He draped an arm and a leg over James, he was warm enough to sleep without covers, he was sure of it. So he didn't worry about it, just simply relaxed with his lover. He was silent a few minutes before he finally spoke. His throat a little hoarse from just how vocal he'd been, in a way his voice was not used to.
"I know I said I wouldn't say it so soon James... but I know it... especially know... lying with you like this... listening to your heart beat..." He absently pressed a kiss to the spot on James' chest that was closest to his lips. "I love you, James." He admitted, "I know it true as the sun comes up each morning... you're for me, James... I love you."
One of his small, shy smiles crept to James’ lips. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it hurt. He couldn’t say it back, though he wanted to, he just held Tom close, stroking the man’s soft hair dreamily. He wanted this moment to last forever. He didn’t want to leave but he knew he would have to very soon.
“Tom” he finally said “You know I can’t stay, I have to get home before dawn.” he whispered, hoping that Tom would feel in his words how hard it was for him to say that, to think that. But he couldn’t voice that either. He had never been a man of many words. He liked to listen and observe rather than talk. That’s why he loved literature and music. He could be part of an experience, could feel, without actually taking part in it. Voicing his emotions wasn’t always easy for him so he tried to convey them by actions.
Those who could understand this, liked him – like Elizabeth, with whom he had shared the hatred of this snobbish society, or Will, who could easily relate to notions like loyalty or honesty, and his longing for freedom, well, that he shared with… no, he mustn't think of him. James could only hope Tom would understand him too, with time – all of him, not just one or two traits of his personality but that complexity that was every human being’s own. Maybe, one day…
Tom could feel it, could feel what James what telling him.
"I don't need words, James... don't worry." He assured the other, lifting his head up. "But you do." He scooted up a bit, pressing a kiss to James. "I can hear you without you ever saying a word." He blushed then, "Most of the time... as least..." He ran his fingers through James' hair. "I know you don't want to leave... and you know I don't want you to go... but we have a few hours until dawn... could we enjoy them together? Just stay together until you truly must go?" He dropped his head on the other's shoulder, and then popped it back up a moment later with a glint in his eyes. "Do you go to church?" He asked, without waiting for an answer. "I don't... and no one but the skeleton crew works at the fort on Sundays... you wouldn't have to work... I wouldn't... you could stay the night on Saturday, and we could spend the whole day together Sunday... You wouldn't have to leave until the evening... preferably after I make you eat something..." He grinned, "What do you think? It could work... we could climb down the bluff to the beach... or even lie in bed all day..." He hugged his lover, cuddling back up against him. "Just so I could hold you longer."
Tom might have figured James out very soon, but he was full of surprises to James. Who would have thought he could be so practical about these things? James certainly couldn’t have thought of these arrangements yet. But he was glad Tom did, it gave him hope that there might be a way to be together. He had his doubts though, whether this would work – apparently Tom didn’t count on the good observation skills of the people, maybe because he had spent so much time at sea, there one can expect loyalty from the men but here… Still, there was hope and he would do anything to make it work. He just nodded with a small smile.
“Thank you” he added silently as his eyes slowly closed and he fell asleep with Tom in his arms.