COME WITH ME,he Says, Like It's The Easiest Thing In The World. Like Izzy Could Just Step Over The Railing

         COME WITH ME, he says, like it's the easiest thing in the world. like izzy could just step over the railing & into the waiting tender & desert his post & never look back. like he could leave this ship — the only place he had ever felt  that he belonged to something — & sail into the night with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen & not the faintest clue of what might wait for them tomorrow. ❝ me ... go with you ? ❞ he repeats, his disbelief plain. surely it couldn't be that easy. offers like this weren’t extended to men like him.

                              but edward teach is still lingering there in the starlight looking at him expectantly, like he actually wants izzy at his side. & he is right, after all — if his superiors discover that he had helped their prisoner escape, he would hang for treason. even if they didn’t, failing in his duties as night watchman was likely to earn him twenty lashes. izzy had accepted the price all along; it had been just another inevitable cost of life under the crown. but when he is offered another course, it’s as if the tethers that had been holding him aboard are severed in an instant. & izzy pulls himself over the railing to let himself drop into the rowboat in a single decisive movement, the descent line still in his hand. ❝ you know, something tells me i might be fucked either way, ❞ he says, even as a smile comes to his face, wide & wild. & izzy gradually releases his grip, the small boat lowering into the dark water below. ❝ but going with you will probably be more fun, eh ? ❞

edward breathes in the night air as the man speaks,   eyes closed,  already tasting freedom along with the salt on his tongue.  he doesn't appear to be,  but he is listening and closely at that,  his gut telling him that his improbable saviour is right   (   even the navy happens upon decent sailors once in a while,  it seems   ).  when edward opens his eyes again,  it's sudden,  the look of someone startled out of his wits and is not quite grasping what's going on.  it has nothing to do with the pain lancing up his leg in steady waves and everything to do with the man still standing behind the railing,  up on the ship.  his half delirious brain must have taken quite the leap without his mouth following through,  simply assuming he wouldn't have left there alone,  and is now struggling to catch up to speed.

''  hey,  no.  wait.  ''   jaw clenches as he struggles to pull himself on his feet again,  hanging on to a rope secured to the side of the hull.  for some reason,  the way he used we sits like an anchor weighting on his sternum,  pressing down and not supposed to be there.   ''  this fucking place is a cage,  don't you see it?  ''   oh he could throw dirt on his majesty's flag all night long,  but they don't have that much time so edward will have to make do.   ''  come with me.  you're fucked if they find out what you did,  anyway.  ''

But Blackbeard did say he credited you... with a lot of his skills. Yeah, well, Blackbeard says a lot of things. But what did he say about me specifically? Well, specifically, he said you taught him everything he knows. Made him the Captain he is today.

     IT’S BEEN NEARLY THREE YEARS, but izzy still comes out to this beach almost every day around sunset. he’s long since lost hope of billy coming back here ( his darkest instincts have been reminding him that he might be dead since the sixth month without him ). so izzy tells himself that it’s not about him — it’s just that this is the only place he feels really relaxed. so he's not expecting it when he sees a familiar halo of blonde curls backlit by the sun, catches sight of a form he’d memorized years ago. & he's like a moth pulled into the light, finds himself walking across the sand as if in a trance until he's standing right in front of billy.

                                   he looks different — the first thing that izzy notices is the raised scars that track across his forearms, a little lighter than the rest — & yet the same. there are the same eyes he remembers, the same smile, the same thick lashes, & the same laugh when izzy breaks the silence. & izzy feels the air he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in rush out of his lungs, permission given to breathe again.

              ❝ yeah, i fuckin' can. ❞ he says, giving a sharp laugh of his own. he wants to ask where have you been, & what really happened to you, & do you forgive me for letting you go, & did you miss me the way i missed you ? but izzy isn't sure that he can handle the answers to any of those just yet. so instead he goes with ❝ what took you so long ? ❞ & he wants to hug billy, wants to pull him in close & not let go. but there's someone else there with them, someone with a tall swoop of dark hair standing a way back, as if he doesn't want to interrupt them. but he's watching, & izzy suddenly feels his defenses rising, a dark cloud cast over their reunion. ❝ who's that ? ❞

i don't know whether to be pissed or be thrilled to see you again. — from izzy

billy doesn't know what to feel. the warmth of the ocean breeze hit his face a while ago. and. and it should be enough. it should be enough. but. it isn't. suddenly miles and miles of fucking distance feels like nothing because now it's nothing. and he cannot remember the last time he saw izzy. it feels so long ago. and he'd told steve, he'd said. that he didn't think izzy would be here. but there was no denying. the possibility was there. and he'd be honest because he's going on this fucking healing journey or some fucking shit. because getting your guts stabbed in all directions kinda tends to change your view on life. but it's not. it's not that. it's the fact that billy's feet can feel the sand between his two and izzy is there like he's been waiting since the day billy got dragged tooth and nailed to certain fucking death. it's. it's a lot. and billy is kinda glad izzy says something because billy could have in fact fucking fainted before being able to day anything. like. sorry i left without saying anything. and you had to know what happened. and you knew, we both know you knew. and i missed you. and i thought you weren't going to be here. and do you miss me?

but he just stands there and billy laughs, because life is fucking ridiculous and god has a thing against billy. like it's a given. he looks to a side, and sees the ocean. and he feels seventeen again. feels sixteen again. on the beach. "-come on man." he starts, like not a single day has passed since they have been here. his heart feels heavy almost. he doesn't know. but when has he ever known "i think you can be both." he smirks at him. like this isn't altering the way billy is breathing. like. like he isn't dying to hold him again. something is different about billy. he can't hide it. dying does that to you.

@musecraft

     THERE’S A DELAY, but it only lasts a breath. then a hand is closing around his, strong & determined, the pirate pulling himself to his feet. yet no sooner does he straighten than he stumbles again, his injured leg evidently unable to hold him. izzy is quick to slip himself beneath his arm, taking on some of the weight from his weakened side. ❝ it's up the stairs or under the hull, so up you go. ❞ he half-carries the taller man as they hobble together first up the narrow stairs & then across the empty deck. it's slow-going, but they don't stop even for a moment. when they reach the waiting rowboat, there is a brief breathless laugh at his side. & izzy thinks to himself that enduring a lashing would be well worth it for the chance to hear that sound again.

                    ❝ i told you, didn't i ? ❞ he responds softly, smiling in spite of himself. ❝ come on, get in. ❞ at his bidding, the man slips out of his arms to pull himself over the railing & into the dinghy. izzy misses the touch immediately. but there’s no time to mourn its absence — if they are caught now, it will all have been for nothing. ❝ row east, into the sunrise. the current is with you, & so is the wind. we shouldn't be able to easily follow you. ❞ his voice is little more than a breath, his hands moving fast to unfasten the tie-offs & prepare the rowboat to be lowered into the inky tide below. ❝ there's rations & water enough for five days, but you should reach land well before that if you keep your heading. ❞ the main knot falls open, but izzy holds it taut to allow himself one last look at edward teach. he truly is beautiful, almost unbearably so. the sky above is scattered with stars, & his wide dark eyes seem to reflect them all as the two men look at each other. they are from entirely different worlds, izzy knows, one clad in a pirate's leathers & the other in a royal navy uniform. but for a moment it seems their hearts beat in tandem, matching the steady rhythm of the waves. then izzy clears his throat & the moment passes, the final rope ready to release. ❝ you have to go. now. ❞

try as he might to make sense of the situation,   edward can do nothing but watch the man as he approaches,  slowly,  with no sneer or taunt on his lips.  his head spins,  sight faltering again and for a moment,  all he can see is the awful blue of his coat,  his words entirely forgotten   (   on my mother   ).  for a moment that stretches on forever,  he is surrounded and helpless again,  at the doubtlessly nonexistent mercy of the navy,  not for people like him anyway.  but then again,  even if they were to offer him a way out from certain execution in the form of service to them,  he'd only spit it back in their faces.  he finally shifts his stare to look up at the man's face,  realizing with some delay that he is talking,  in the middle of some long speech that edward only catches in fragments.  he's got the relevant bits,  and they make enough sense with the offered hand,  but he can't help looking at the officer like he has suddenly grown a siren's tail.

'  what the fuck,  man.  '   it has to be a quick decision,  he knows that,  there's no time for hesitation.  his only other option is doomed from the start  —  he can do jack shit on his own,  not with the state of his leg,  even if he were to incapacitate him somehow and steal his sword.  he'd still make a stupid,  insane,  bound to fail effort,  however.  you can trust me.  he grabs the hand,  of course he does.  he tries to kid himself,  half heartedly thinking that what comes next won't be so bad,  but getting on his feet,  putting even the slightest amount of weight on his bad leg is agonizing.  face blanched,  he almost passes out cold,  a black cloud obscuring his sight for a heart beat.  he doesn't remember deciding to do it,  yet lets the solid body near him hold him up with no resistance.   '  up the stairs,  huh?  gonna be fun.  '   he tries for humor,  even through teeth clenched so tight they start to hurt.  and up the stairs they do go indeed,  even though edward feels so sick he thinks he might loose it any moment, clutching that blasted coat with near to numb fingers.  when edward finally catches sight of the rowboat,  waiting for them just like the man said,  he feels like deliriously laughing.  he gasps out a startled half chuckle,  instead.   '  you really weren't kidding.  fuckin' lunatic.  '

the gang's all here ! to make your own.

      IF DROWNING COULD BE PLEASANT, it might feel something like this, izzy thinks as he feels himself drift deeper down down down into the kiss. the sensation of someone touching him so gently is pleasant, & the hand pressed against his chin is large & soft. & he does like it, he decides at last. so much so that when lucius stops to speak, izzy can’t help but groan quietly in protest. & it quickly turns into a scowl when lucius taps the side of his head. ❝ what is it with everyone on this fucking ship's obsessive need to — ❞ he cuts himself off with an aggravated sigh, refusing to let bonnet's favorite phrase leave his mouth. not here, not now.

            but izzy still doesn’t release his hold on lucius’ jacket, eyes downcast as he fiddles absently with the lapel. it takes him a moment, weighing the words carefully on his tongue before he lets them out. ❝ i don't want to talk, ❞ he finally says, voice low but steady. ❝ i want to keep kissing you. i want to touch you. ❞ as if to make the point, his gloved hand reaches out to rest just above the other man’s knee. & izzy slowly pulls his eyes up lucius’ body, for the first time truly allowing himself to appreciate the slope of his torso, the broadness of his chest, the kiss-flushed shade of his lips. ❝ i want to see you, & — ❞ he pauses, breath going shallow. ❝ & i want you to see me... underneath all this, i mean. ❞

izzy curls his hand around his light jacket again,   bringing them closer still and lucius lets out a laugh,  small,  more breath huffing out of his lips than sound.   '  like that,  do you?  '    lucius has certainly no complaints about it to make.  and besides,  he has better things to do,  like for example shifting just enough so that he can put one hand on izzy's leather clad shoulder while the other daringly comes to rest at the man's jaw,  skin on skin.  heart skipping a tiny beat,  lucius has to remind himself that izzy asked to be touched,  that this is fine,  all good,  nothing to worry about.  the angriest,  possibly most repressed man he's ever met,  allowed lucius to touch him, to lead him to a bed,  and is currently kissing him carefully..  gently even?  which is nice,  sure,  but. 

'  i'm not going to break.  you don't have to hold back if you don't want to.  '   on his part,  lucius is keeping his own touch considerate,  grounding rather than hurried  —  not because he is scared or inexperienced,  god no,  but simply because this should be a safe space,  one where izzy can let himself have this without shoving it away as fast as he can.   '  tell me what's going on in here,  '   he speaks quietly,  voice steady,  as he lightly taps a finger to izzy's temple.   '  tell me exactly what you want.  '