Fic: Every Normal Man Must Be Tempted - R
Title Every Normal Man Must Be Tempted
Author acquiescence_
Rating R
Warnings Underage!Eames, Piracy
Word Count 6,300
Summary Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats - H.L. Mencken
Author Notes Written for the i_reversebang. I claimed some amazing art by forgerness, it's seriously amazing and just man I cannot believe it - I wasn't even going to write anything for this but I saw that one and had to claim it. Even if it's a pairing I've never written before. I hope the fic ends up living up to the gorgeous art she created. And you should definitely go check it out. Click the banner to see the art.
Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew-
(Twenty bridges or twenty-two)-
Wanted to know what the River knew,
For they were young, and the Thames was old
And this is the tale that River told
Eames was meant for greater things, he'd always known this about himself. It didn't matter that he'd grown up on the streets, picking out scraps from behind pubs and occasionally charming a few crowns from men and women on the street (and so maybe charming sometimes meant picking their pockets, but it was all in the name of that greatness for which he was destined so Eames never felt the need to split hairs over just how he got money to eat - just that he was fed).
The thing was, you couldn't exactly be great when you were living day to day like that. Oh maybe he could, eventually, but where was the adventure, the romance, the danger? The streets of London had nothing to offer so much as they were the very thing that kept him down.
"Oi, Eames! Come on then,"
"Right there." Eames shouted after Davey, glancing briefly over his shoulder just to make sure the casual trip into a gentleman's pocket hadn't been noticed before he was racing off down the streets of London to gather with the other boys.
They always gathered toward the end of the day, pooling together what they'd managed to scrape up during the day's wanderings - though Eames was starting to get to a point where it would be more beneficial to him to just keep what he made for himself and let the others deal with their own survival. He'd never make a name for himself if he was constantly sharing his ill gotten gains with kids who couldn't barely get away with stealing a single crown during the day.
Still he added a pocket watch, a few crowns, and a necklace to the pile, the whole lot was then traded in to buy them all bread and fish that night.
They got a raw deal, Eames knew that, the watch alone was enough to get them all fed, but there were so few people willing to even look at a bunch of kids running around on the streets that they took what they could get.
Still as it grew dark, Eames climbed up on the crates piled high at the port, carving out a space for himself up off the ground looking out over the water. Ships moving in and out with the tides, each one with it's own story to tell. This was his favorite part of the day, listening to the shouts of crews, the clanging of bells, and men laughing. That was the life Eames wanted for himself.
He didn't just want to sit there and look out at the Thames and imagine a life, he wanted to be out on it, pressing out to the deep blue of the ocean far beyond the shores of this now familiar city and find new places, places he'd only ever imagined before. Places no one had ever seen before. He thought what it would be like to follow that great river to the point where it spilled out into the rest of the ocean, where it was swallowed up and stopped belonging to the King and God and Country and just belonged to the world.
That was what he wanted. A life that belonged to him. That was as great and fantastic as what he knew he deserved. He'd never get that here.
Out of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me,
Whispering, I love you, before long I die,
I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you,
For I could not die till I once look’d on you,
For I fear’d I might afterward lose you.
Yusuf had been a man of the sea since before he'd been born. The ocean ran thick in his veins, pushing its way into every part of him and turning him into a man more at home with the salty spray in his face and the wind at his back than he'd ever be with the ground under his feet.
It had never been a question of what he would do with his life, he had known from the start, and he'd never had reason to fight it. No Yusuf loved the sea, he loved his ship, and he loved his crew. All of this was his life and he could never have asked for anything better than what he'd ended up with. So many men were scraping just for enough food to put on the table at the end of the day, while he had more than enough to his name.
And a name he certainly did have.
He didn't even need to add anything flashy to it the way some in his profession did. He wasn't a dread pirate and he didn't have a black beard, no all one had to say was Yusuf and it was enough to have them handing over whatever loot they might be carrying.
Of course most of the time his name needn't ever have been uttered at all, it was simply raising their flag. Proud and high above the rigging and sails. They were a sight to be seen. And seen they were.
All in all it was the perfect life, he never wanted for anything, and after the first few years of forcing people to walk the plank and blowing holes in the sides of ships far too beautiful to ruin, Yusuf rarely had to do more than raise his flag to get anything he wanted.
"Land ho!" Came the shout from the crows nest, and Yusuf came out of his cabin to the sun warm against his face, and the sight of land greeting them like an old friend welcoming them home with open arms. They would only be in Port for a few days, just long enough to get in touch with their contacts, move some merchandise before they pulled up anchor and were back out on the sea.
The salty air was clean and fresh and he was eager to take care of business. He was at the heart of it all a business man after all. And nothing made him happier than the exchange of goods that took place at London Port and lining his coffers with the profits from his ill gotten gains.
Not to mention the chance for new faces, those young men and women who were all ways there and always had time for him when he came to port. Yes, he all ready had one in mind for that evening.
"Full ahead Mister James. I want to make port before night fall."
"Aye Captain!"
And then he wanted to get back out to sea, for all that Yusuf liked London - it was the center of the world after all - he was a man of the sea. He never felt quite right on land, he missed the gentle sway of the waves rocking the ship, he missed the feeling of the salty sea air replaced with the stench of the city almost the moment they left the sea proper and began to make their way up the Thames. So they'd make their stop, take care of their business and the men would have a night to enjoy the city and all it's offerings before they set sail once again.
Yusuf might be a bastard but he was one that liked a happy crew.
His chance came sooner than Eames had realized it would. Sitting there on the docks that night, watching ships pull in and drop anchor. Listening to the shouts and whistles of crewmen long been at see getting their feet on solid ground for the first time in months he knew that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to be one of those men - he wanted to be on one of those ships. And not just any of those ships, no it had to be a good one, one that would take him on that adventure he'd always wanted - not one that merely transported goods from port to port.
He wanted to be one of those ships that did things, that saw new parts of the world and talked to the sky and the sea and did all the amazing things that he'd been dreaming of.
He watched the ships as they pulled in to port, watched as they were tied up and taxes paid and crewmen disembarked. He considered each one, ignoring those belonging to the royal navy, and the ones that looked like they never actually saw any of the real see at all and focused instead on the larger ships the ones built for months at sea.
Each one was different, each had its own story to tell. It was obvious just looking at them, seeing the places they'd been repaired, the scrapes and signs of a life lived.
One ship among them all caught his eye and managed to hold it longer than any other in port.
It was big, but not massive, it was obviously well cared for - but showed that such care didn't always mean sticking to the coastline and steering around skirmishes - no this was a ship that had a story to tell - one that captivated Eames from the moment he laid eyes on her.
This was his ticket out.
He didn't even tell Davey, he just climbed down off the crates where he'd been watching, sneaking through the port - busy still despite the late hour. The sounds of music and laughter and shouts enough proof of that. He ducked behind a few barrels while men passed him, creeping ever closer to his goal.
Luck was on his side in the end, the watch man busy with a woman and the shadows just right as he climbed aboard and hid himself as best he could praying that no one would find him until it was nothing to be done for it. Eames didn't even let himself think that there could be anything done for it when they were out to sea - the thought never even entered his mind.
Not until the next morning, or was it afternoon, the sun was high in the sky, as he was pulled up on deck - his arm caught in a fierce grip by a man nearly twice the size of him. He'd fallen asleep, hadn't been able to keep his eyes open any longer and he ended up falling as the waves rocked the boat giving him away. The shouts for the captain had started immediately before they even got Eames up onto the deck.
Now everyone had gathered to see what was happening.
"And what do we have here?" A voice called not quite loud but enough to be heard over the other voices - and the crowd of men that had gathered around Eames split easily, right down the middle. The man that stepped through the space created was imposing enough that Eames didn't even need to guess who this might be. But in case there was any doubt one of the crew men helped him out.
"Stowaway, Captain."
"Thank you for that astute observation Mr. Turpin." Eames didn't let himself look the Captain in the eye, didn't dare too as the idea of just what could be done to him now started to fill his mind. "However, the question was meant for the boy."
Eames found his chin caught between two thick fingers, angling his face up so he had no choice but to look at the Captain. He was tall was the first thing that came into Eames' mind, his dark skin the next, and then his hair and the beads and feathers and the way his shirt was open to his middle and the gold chains around his neck and his eyes - dark and considering as they looked at him.
"What's your name boy?"
"Eames." He didn't dare lie or hesitate - not now, not as his very life was being held in this man's hands.
"Just Eames?"
"Yes'sir."
"And what are you doing on my ship?"
"I-" Eames started and stopped, he couldn't help the way his eyes flitted to the men circled around him. This was likely the biggest mistake of his life - even more than that time he'd tried to sneak into a Lord's house. At least he'd had somewhere to run when that had gone south, now he was stuck. "I liked the look of it." He said after a moment gathering himself up and straightening his back making himself as tall as he could and speaking evenly.
"Is that right?" The Captain smirked at him, "And you were not content to admire my ship from the docks like everyone else?"
"No, I wanted to join your crew."
The laughter was immediate and Eames had to work hard to keep from shrinking against it. "And just what sort of position did you see yourself filling? Look out? Cabin boy? Cook?" The Captain had begun to circle Eames then, leaning in close and speaking in his ear while he made his circuit.
"I- I'd make a fair cabin boy." Eames knew this was not the time to be unsure of anything.
"Do you think so?" The Captain stopped his circuit just in front of him, smirking easily.
"Yes Sir." Eames nodded firmly. None of his earlier hesitation at the idea.
"What do you think Mr. Turpin? Would he make a fair cabin boy?"
"Looks a bit small to me, Cap'n.
"Aye, that he does Mr. Turpin. Not much use for a cabin boy who can't carry his own weight."
"I can though!" Eames spoke up without thinking just needing to make sure they knew he could do this, he could do this job they had for him, any job they had for them, whatever it is. The Captain arched an eyebrow at Eames' outburst.
"Come with me, boy." The Captain grabbed Eames' arm and dragged him off the deck.
Yusuf dragged the boy to his quarters, keeping a tight grip on his arm while he walked him across the deck and then inside, slamming the door behind him.
The colored bottles of liquids and elixirs he'd collected during his travels rattling on the shelves where he stored them. The walls were draped in rich silks and fabrics from the Orient and furs were tossed over the bed. The room was covered with the spoils of their raids and things he traded for throughout their travels.
It was a room meant for comfort a place where he could separate himself from the crew and take a break from all of that.
"Now, we're going to have a conversation about you, and what you're doing on my ship, boy." Yusuf drew himself up to his full height and made sure that he was as menacing as possible. He did not like stowaways nor did he have time to take care of them and teach them what they needed to know to survive on a ship like the Ariadne.
"I didn't mea-"
"No, you don't speak until I tell you to, you don't open your mouth or offer up any commentary that is not specifically requested. You understand me boy."
Eames nodded, his mouth resolutely shut. At least the boy could take orders - that in itself was hard enough for some people.
"Now what will I do with you?" Yusuf caught the boy's chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his head back to really get a good look at him. He was pretty, very pretty actually - and those lips. "Yes I could come up with a great many uses for a boy like you." Yusuf hummed running his thumb over the swell of the boy's lower lip.
He could feel the way he shivered at the touch and Yusuf smirked at the reaction.
"Yes I think the crew would like you very much, it's hard being out at sea for months the way we are - they could use a little pretty something like you to while away the hours."
Eames' eyes opened wide, and Yusuf could see he was dying to say something, though his mouth stayed closed just as it was supposed to.
"What do you think of that, boy?" He asked, he was not completely cruel, and despite what he might have said he wasn't about to turn the boy into some sort of toy for his crew. But there were consequences to sneaking onto his ship without a plan.
"I - I could do that for you." He said slowly at first and then opened his mouth to continue. "I could be so good for you, I know how to do a lot of things, back in London men liked to look at my mouth, liked to touch it and I could suck them - I could do that for you. I could be so good." He rushed through the last, speaking as if his life depended on it, and in some ways it did - at least in the boy's mind.
"Is that right? You'd let me use that pretty mouth of yours just so the crew keeps their hands off?"
Eames nodded eagerly seeming to forget that he was supposed to keep quiet. "I would, I could show you now." And he fell to his knees faster than Yusuf thought was possible reaching up for the belt that kept Yusuf's pants up. In a rush now to prove he could be as good as he claimed.
Yusuf thrust his hand into the boys hair and wrenched his head back hard. "Hands down now." He didn't even raise his voice, let the slow firm tone of it get the point across that he was not to be ignored - especially now. And once Eames' hands had fallen passively to his side Yusuf dragged him back up to his feet. "If I want a demonstration of just how nice that mouth of yours could be then I'll ask you for it. Do you understand me, boy?"
"Yes'sir."
"Now you're going to report to Mr. Turpin, he's going to get you a bunk and you're going to do what he tells you to and if you survive the night we'll see about what to do with you tomorrow."
Eames nodded quickly at that and kept his mouth shut.
Eames had been aboard the Ariadne for almost a month now, his hands were raw from scrubbing the decks, the red stinging skin he'd had to deal with the first few weeks had faded as he turned a darker shade after days spent under the sun.
It was hard work, and there were times in the beginning when Eames wondered if it would not have been better to have been killed that first day. He'd been constantly tired, and hungry, and the rocking of the ship as they made their way through the bright blue expanse of the ocean was enough to make him feel as though he'd never know what it felt like to not feel sick again.
But it started changing eventually, the rocking of the waves started to become a comfort, and the stars at night started to guide him, and he got used to the schedule of ship life. It was starting to become routine for him, a way of life that he wasn't sure how he'd ever lived without before.
It wasn't dodging Bobbies in the streets of London or going to sleep hungry at night, or giving away most of what he'd stolen just to feed his friends. This was a life that was his own. It was hard and sometimes more difficult that he was sure he could bear - but it was the adventure he'd always hoped for.
It had taken them just about four weeks from the time they left London to reach their first stop - a small village on the northern coast of Africa. There was not even a port here, they had to drop anchor just off shore and unload what they were taking into boats to be taken up.
Eames was tasked with helping to bring up boxes and barrels from the hold below deck, watching as the stack grew with each trip they made unloading spoils for the crowd that had gathered there to greet them. On the shore And even more surprising than their greeting was what happened next.
Yusuf was the first out of the boats when they reached the shore, and he approached the man who seemed to be the leader of the people who had gathered while waiting for them to get up to the beach. They had a short conversation after patting each other on the back like they had more than a little history between them, and Eames could not help but feel curious.
Next though they began opening the crates and handing out what they had brought with them, silk, Spanish coins, more food than Eames had even realized the ship had been carrying. The people gratefully took everything Yusuf offered them, they looked like the sort of people who would never have been able to get such things themselves, and the wealth they distributed that day seemed out of place for the region they were in and the sort of people they seemed to be simply giving it away to.
Eames couldn't help but wonder how the crew felt about the spoils they'd helped collect being given away like this.
Still he kept his mouth shut and did anything Mr. Turpin told him to do and stayed out of the way when they were invited into the village for a celebration before they made their way back to the long boats and back to the ship as the camp fires in the center of the village still burned bright against the dark of the night sky.
"Why did you do that?" Eames asked when they were aboard again, making his way up to Yusuf who he had done his best to avoid for the most part since he'd been sent to Mr. Turpin to get his assignments for his life on the ship. The man still scared him, and he couldn't help but flush thinking about what he'd almost done and how he'd been turned down.
"Do what?"
"Give away your things like that?"
Yusuf gave Eames a considering look for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest while he paused like maybe he wasn't going to just send him away with a laugh.
"We don't need it all, these people do."
"But …" Eames paused wondering if it was okay to continue asking, but since Yusuf didn't appear to be stopping him he pressed on. "Isn't that what pirates do? They keep it and stash all their treasure - why risk it if you're just going to give it away?"
"We keep more than enough to make the risk worth it, but not all of it are things we need." Yusuf told him. "Just because we're pirates doesn't mean we're heartless."
"Oh." Eames wasn't sure what to make of that, this man had scared him so much in the beginning, he hadn't know what to make of him then and now this made it even harder for him to understand the sort of person Yusuf was.
"Good night Mr. Eames, good work today. I'll most likely kill you in the morning." Yusuf grinned ruffling Eames' hair and shaking his head, the threat not striking the same amount of fear in him tonight as it had the first time Yusuf had used it. Like perhaps it had never been a serious threat.
He bit his lip standing there on the deck watching Yusuf for a moment, before he stepped in closer and pushed himself up on his toes fingers gripping in Yusuf's shirt trying to get closer. Only to be pushed away with a firm hand on his chest.
"I'll tell you when that's what I want, boy." Yusuf said - his voice sounding tight and breathing just a bit heavier than he had been before.
"Please." Eames wasn't sure if he needed or just wanted or maybe it was neither.
"No." Yusuf grinned and then laughed. "Go to bed Mr. Eames - it's been a long day and I think all that time on land has started to go to your head."
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.
They were back out to sea again the next day, and they continued sailing up and down the length of the European coastline looking for something unknown sign that would give them their next point of direction. It was several more weeks of nothing the shore occasionally coming into view in the distance but they never got close always keeping their distance out to sea.
Eames was starting to grow restless, not sure what to do with himself with all this ocean stretching out around him, his daily tasks starting to grow monotonous without something to look forward to. Stopping in Morocco had given Eames a burst of energy he had not been aware he'd needed, but the days at sea slowly peeled it away from him until there was nothing left for him.
But as they were nearing the third month there was something.
A ship on the horizon - it would take them several hours before they reached it. Eames wondered if it was a Spanish ship or an English ship maybe someone from Portugal. They'd overtaken a Spanish ship the week before, and only had to raise their flag to have them pulling up the white flag and handing over anything that Yusuf had deemed valuable enough.
In the end they'd left them with enough food for a week, long enough to make it back to the shore so long as the wind held out. And even then they'd be fine for another few days if they rationed what they'd been left with. Yusuf might have been ruthless but he was not cruel Eames had learned.
As they neared the ship the men gathered on the deck preparing to raise their flag and for another simple handing over of goods. But as the ship drew nearer they raised their own flag. One that had the men swearing and Yusuf's flag was raised high.
"That arse." Eames heard Mr. Turpin swear standing off to Yusuf's side. "It's Nash."
"Son of a bitch has been going after ships all up and down the coast line." Yusuf said, though his voice remained calm while he spoke, though the men were clearly arming themselves for some sort of confrontation, unlike the sort of reaction they'd had with the last ship they'd encountered.
"Hold steady men, he's an inexperienced rat looking to make a name for himself. We'll show him what it means to come against the Ariadne." Mr. Turpin called to the crew, his reassurances were met with a round of shouts.
The ships continued to come up against one another, until they were right along side - the canons had been rolled out and swords were pulled from their sheathes and they prepared for a battle.
They were alive, Eames wasn't even sure how they managed that. He was convinced they were going to die - that the other ship actually would board them and that would be it. But they hadn't, and they'd made it and though the Ariadne needed a little tender care she would carry them to their next destination. She would hold long enough for them to fix her up again.
It had been incredible really, just how adept the crew had been at fighting. They had all seemed scary that first day, and perhaps for several days after that until Eames had realized the promise of death that came every night was not actually a threat and just Yusuf's way of saying he cared - it kept Eames sharp, made him pay attention.
Apparently he had been lulled after those first few weeks - started to think the crew was as harmless as they acted toward him most of the time. Especially Yusuf. But seeing him that morning, sword in hand, a dagger between his teeth and a pistol as well - it was like he was a completely different man. The one who had earned that reputation that came with the flag they'd hoisted as soon as the they were approached by Nash and his ship.
If Eames had known from the start what ship this was he never would have climbed aboard and hoped for the best. He might have just been some kid from the street, but Yusuf and his crew had enough of a reputation that even Eames had heard. Even Eames would have steered clear.
And he'd seen today just how well deserved that reputation was. Nash's ship might have taken them by surprise but the Ariadne and her crew were merciless.
It had taken it's toll though.
"You're hurt."
"I'll survive, you'll not be rid of me that easily." Yusuf huffed an amused breath as he tucked his bloodied dagger back into his boot and holstered his pistol.
Eames wanted to be relieved, he was surprised at how much he needed Yusuf to be all right after this altercation. Somewhere along the line the fear he'd first felt when faced with Yusuf had been replaced with something more, with a grudging sort of respect at the start followed by something he wasn't sure how to describe now. He just needed Yusuf to be all right.
"Can I clean you up?
"There's things to take care of." Yusuf said shaking his head and stumbled slightly when he took a step toward the main deck and Eames was there in just a moment fitting himself in under Yusuf's arm to keep him on his feet.
"Let them take care of it." Eames said quietly. Yusuf still looked doubtful, like he was going to take offense to the way Eames was keeping him on his feet. But in the end the steady rocking of the ship combined with his injuries was enough to convince Yusuf that the crew could take care of things for a short while.
"Mr. Turpin take care of things here." Yusuf called to his first mate and let Eames lead him back to his quarters.
Once they were inside with the door shut, Eames pushed Yusuf down on the bed, right on the edge and started to gather the things he would need to clean him up. He got rags and bandages. It wouldn't do much, but it would be enough for now.
Eames just needed to assess the injuries, there was so much blood - some of it from the other crew, some of it Yusuf's and it was hard to see the difference. Eames pushed Yusuf's vest open, got his hands under the shirt beneath on Yusuf's chest and let his fingers seek out any injuries that Yusuf might have.
Nothing he found was too serious, nothing that would kill Yusuf by the end of the day. It was a relief - as Eames washed away the blood finding Yusuf relatively unscathed. Several minor cuts - it was the slice on his arm, the one that had ripped open his shirt and soaked the fabric with blood that had worried Eames so much.
Yusuf winced when Eames ripped away the tattered remains of the sleeve and began to clean away the blood, swiping a clean cloth soaked with a salve over the injury. "We might need to sew this." He said glancing at Yusuf's face for the first time. He was pale and his mouth pressed into a thin line the pain of his injuries and Eames tending to them showing clearly there on his face.
"No," Yusuf shook his head, "Just a bandage, I've had worse." Eames recalled the scars he'd seen the ones he felt as his fingers had skimmed over Yusuf's skin when he felt for injuries - and decided it was the better course of action not to argue.
"Okay, just ... just breathe for a minute." Eames said ripping off a strip of one of the clean bandages and wrapping it around Yusuf's arm and starting to tie it. He pulled it tight, and Yusuf remained quiet despite closing his eyes and gritting his teeth agianst the pain. Eames double knotted the fabric and pulled it tight once more tucking the ends in against Yusuf's skin. "We'll need to change that tomorrow."
"I know, Mr. Eames." Yusuf said placing a hand on Eames shoulder and squeezing gently. Eames hadn't even realized that his hands were trembling. "This is not the first time I've done this, and it won't be the last. The first time is always the worst. You'll be better the next time." He told him gently curling his fingers againt the back of Eames' neck, thumb stroking gently there, reassuring him with the simple touch.
"How do you do this?"
"Do what?"
"This, the fighting the pistols the swords?"
"This is my life." Yusuf told him gently. "I always had a choice in this, you don't have to do this - you could do so much."
Eames shook his head, he might have been shaken by the events of the day, he might feel like he wanted to be sick over the side of the ship if given half a chance, but he didn't want to leave. He couldn't leave. It had been months now that he had been here - the crew, Yusuf, they were all more family than the kids he'd run with in London had ever been before. He couldn't give this up now. "No."
"All right, we'll make sure you're better prepared next time. We'll get you a sword and your own pistol and you'll be able to help next time."
"Okay." Eames sat quietly for a moment, leaning into the hand that was still curled against the back of his neck and impulsively leaned in and pressed his lips against Yusuf's
"Mr. Eames -"
"Please.... please let me." Eames was sure that he would die of Yusuf laughed at him again. He suddenly needed this desperately. He pressed in again, hands on Yusuf's chest, kissing him with as much desperation as he felt. That moment when he saw Yusuf swaying on his feet - when he thought he'd lose him - it had all caught up to him and he dragged him close and wouldn't let himself be pushed away.
But Yusuf didn't push him away this time. He kept him close, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck growling into his mouth like he wanted this as much as Eames did. And he thought he would die - he couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but let himself be kissed. It was everything he needed and everything he wanted.
"Ah careful." Yusuf hissed when they tumbled back onto the bed together, Eames pressed against Yusuf's chest.
"Sorry." Eames huffed a short amused breath and hid his face against Yusuf's neck.
"Patience, boy."
"All right."
"I'll take care of you, just carefully."
And Eames let himself be lost to the sensations that Yusuf was able to pull from his body with the slightest of touches, it felt like Yusuf knew his body as well as he knew the ship - fingers skimming over his chest in the same way Yusuf ran his hands over the railing, tripping and twisting their way over his nipples and chest with the same steady confidence that came with inspection the work that had been done for the day by the crew, watching as Eames fell apart just like he watched his crew hard at work for him.
Eames had never known anything like this and he knew his life would never be the same - he'd found that grand adventure he'd always looked for as he surrendered himself to a chorus of yesgodpleasemoretherefuck.
Like the winds of the sea
Are the waves of time,
As we journey along through life,
'Tis the set of the soul,
That determines the goal,
And not the calm or the strife.
The Ariadne had seen better days that much was certain, but they'd get her put right again - repair the damage Nash and his crew had done and they'd continue sailing just like Yusuf had always done. It would take so much more than an upstart pirate to keep him from the sea that he loved so much.
Yusuf woke in the early morning light with the calm reassuring rocking of the waves as the sun filtered in through dappled glass spilling over his bed - across the smooth bare back of the boy tangled in the sheets beside him.
He ran a finger down the length of Eames' spine, watching the way his body responded eagerly to the touch. He really should have known from that first day, that first moment he'd laid eyes on the boy who'd had the gall to stowaway on his ship that he would cause all manner of trouble and change everything.
But Yusuf couldn't bring himself to care.
Not when Eames turned his face toward him, blinking sleepily at him a slow smile spreading it's way across his face - trying desperately to look at ease and yet he could see the doubt there just behind it.
"Did I ever tell you how I got into piracy?"
To the Art
Author acquiescence_
Rating R
Warnings Underage!Eames, Piracy
Word Count 6,300
Summary Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats - H.L. Mencken
Author Notes Written for the i_reversebang. I claimed some amazing art by forgerness, it's seriously amazing and just man I cannot believe it - I wasn't even going to write anything for this but I saw that one and had to claim it. Even if it's a pairing I've never written before. I hope the fic ends up living up to the gorgeous art she created. And you should definitely go check it out. Click the banner to see the art.
Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew-
(Twenty bridges or twenty-two)-
Wanted to know what the River knew,
For they were young, and the Thames was old
And this is the tale that River told
Eames was meant for greater things, he'd always known this about himself. It didn't matter that he'd grown up on the streets, picking out scraps from behind pubs and occasionally charming a few crowns from men and women on the street (and so maybe charming sometimes meant picking their pockets, but it was all in the name of that greatness for which he was destined so Eames never felt the need to split hairs over just how he got money to eat - just that he was fed).
The thing was, you couldn't exactly be great when you were living day to day like that. Oh maybe he could, eventually, but where was the adventure, the romance, the danger? The streets of London had nothing to offer so much as they were the very thing that kept him down.
"Oi, Eames! Come on then,"
"Right there." Eames shouted after Davey, glancing briefly over his shoulder just to make sure the casual trip into a gentleman's pocket hadn't been noticed before he was racing off down the streets of London to gather with the other boys.
They always gathered toward the end of the day, pooling together what they'd managed to scrape up during the day's wanderings - though Eames was starting to get to a point where it would be more beneficial to him to just keep what he made for himself and let the others deal with their own survival. He'd never make a name for himself if he was constantly sharing his ill gotten gains with kids who couldn't barely get away with stealing a single crown during the day.
Still he added a pocket watch, a few crowns, and a necklace to the pile, the whole lot was then traded in to buy them all bread and fish that night.
They got a raw deal, Eames knew that, the watch alone was enough to get them all fed, but there were so few people willing to even look at a bunch of kids running around on the streets that they took what they could get.
Still as it grew dark, Eames climbed up on the crates piled high at the port, carving out a space for himself up off the ground looking out over the water. Ships moving in and out with the tides, each one with it's own story to tell. This was his favorite part of the day, listening to the shouts of crews, the clanging of bells, and men laughing. That was the life Eames wanted for himself.
He didn't just want to sit there and look out at the Thames and imagine a life, he wanted to be out on it, pressing out to the deep blue of the ocean far beyond the shores of this now familiar city and find new places, places he'd only ever imagined before. Places no one had ever seen before. He thought what it would be like to follow that great river to the point where it spilled out into the rest of the ocean, where it was swallowed up and stopped belonging to the King and God and Country and just belonged to the world.
That was what he wanted. A life that belonged to him. That was as great and fantastic as what he knew he deserved. He'd never get that here.
Out of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me,
Whispering, I love you, before long I die,
I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you,
For I could not die till I once look’d on you,
For I fear’d I might afterward lose you.
Yusuf had been a man of the sea since before he'd been born. The ocean ran thick in his veins, pushing its way into every part of him and turning him into a man more at home with the salty spray in his face and the wind at his back than he'd ever be with the ground under his feet.
It had never been a question of what he would do with his life, he had known from the start, and he'd never had reason to fight it. No Yusuf loved the sea, he loved his ship, and he loved his crew. All of this was his life and he could never have asked for anything better than what he'd ended up with. So many men were scraping just for enough food to put on the table at the end of the day, while he had more than enough to his name.
And a name he certainly did have.
He didn't even need to add anything flashy to it the way some in his profession did. He wasn't a dread pirate and he didn't have a black beard, no all one had to say was Yusuf and it was enough to have them handing over whatever loot they might be carrying.
Of course most of the time his name needn't ever have been uttered at all, it was simply raising their flag. Proud and high above the rigging and sails. They were a sight to be seen. And seen they were.
All in all it was the perfect life, he never wanted for anything, and after the first few years of forcing people to walk the plank and blowing holes in the sides of ships far too beautiful to ruin, Yusuf rarely had to do more than raise his flag to get anything he wanted.
"Land ho!" Came the shout from the crows nest, and Yusuf came out of his cabin to the sun warm against his face, and the sight of land greeting them like an old friend welcoming them home with open arms. They would only be in Port for a few days, just long enough to get in touch with their contacts, move some merchandise before they pulled up anchor and were back out on the sea.
The salty air was clean and fresh and he was eager to take care of business. He was at the heart of it all a business man after all. And nothing made him happier than the exchange of goods that took place at London Port and lining his coffers with the profits from his ill gotten gains.
Not to mention the chance for new faces, those young men and women who were all ways there and always had time for him when he came to port. Yes, he all ready had one in mind for that evening.
"Full ahead Mister James. I want to make port before night fall."
"Aye Captain!"
And then he wanted to get back out to sea, for all that Yusuf liked London - it was the center of the world after all - he was a man of the sea. He never felt quite right on land, he missed the gentle sway of the waves rocking the ship, he missed the feeling of the salty sea air replaced with the stench of the city almost the moment they left the sea proper and began to make their way up the Thames. So they'd make their stop, take care of their business and the men would have a night to enjoy the city and all it's offerings before they set sail once again.
Yusuf might be a bastard but he was one that liked a happy crew.
His chance came sooner than Eames had realized it would. Sitting there on the docks that night, watching ships pull in and drop anchor. Listening to the shouts and whistles of crewmen long been at see getting their feet on solid ground for the first time in months he knew that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to be one of those men - he wanted to be on one of those ships. And not just any of those ships, no it had to be a good one, one that would take him on that adventure he'd always wanted - not one that merely transported goods from port to port.
He wanted to be one of those ships that did things, that saw new parts of the world and talked to the sky and the sea and did all the amazing things that he'd been dreaming of.
He watched the ships as they pulled in to port, watched as they were tied up and taxes paid and crewmen disembarked. He considered each one, ignoring those belonging to the royal navy, and the ones that looked like they never actually saw any of the real see at all and focused instead on the larger ships the ones built for months at sea.
Each one was different, each had its own story to tell. It was obvious just looking at them, seeing the places they'd been repaired, the scrapes and signs of a life lived.
One ship among them all caught his eye and managed to hold it longer than any other in port.
It was big, but not massive, it was obviously well cared for - but showed that such care didn't always mean sticking to the coastline and steering around skirmishes - no this was a ship that had a story to tell - one that captivated Eames from the moment he laid eyes on her.
This was his ticket out.
He didn't even tell Davey, he just climbed down off the crates where he'd been watching, sneaking through the port - busy still despite the late hour. The sounds of music and laughter and shouts enough proof of that. He ducked behind a few barrels while men passed him, creeping ever closer to his goal.
Luck was on his side in the end, the watch man busy with a woman and the shadows just right as he climbed aboard and hid himself as best he could praying that no one would find him until it was nothing to be done for it. Eames didn't even let himself think that there could be anything done for it when they were out to sea - the thought never even entered his mind.
Not until the next morning, or was it afternoon, the sun was high in the sky, as he was pulled up on deck - his arm caught in a fierce grip by a man nearly twice the size of him. He'd fallen asleep, hadn't been able to keep his eyes open any longer and he ended up falling as the waves rocked the boat giving him away. The shouts for the captain had started immediately before they even got Eames up onto the deck.
Now everyone had gathered to see what was happening.
"And what do we have here?" A voice called not quite loud but enough to be heard over the other voices - and the crowd of men that had gathered around Eames split easily, right down the middle. The man that stepped through the space created was imposing enough that Eames didn't even need to guess who this might be. But in case there was any doubt one of the crew men helped him out.
"Stowaway, Captain."
"Thank you for that astute observation Mr. Turpin." Eames didn't let himself look the Captain in the eye, didn't dare too as the idea of just what could be done to him now started to fill his mind. "However, the question was meant for the boy."
Eames found his chin caught between two thick fingers, angling his face up so he had no choice but to look at the Captain. He was tall was the first thing that came into Eames' mind, his dark skin the next, and then his hair and the beads and feathers and the way his shirt was open to his middle and the gold chains around his neck and his eyes - dark and considering as they looked at him.
"What's your name boy?"
"Eames." He didn't dare lie or hesitate - not now, not as his very life was being held in this man's hands.
"Just Eames?"
"Yes'sir."
"And what are you doing on my ship?"
"I-" Eames started and stopped, he couldn't help the way his eyes flitted to the men circled around him. This was likely the biggest mistake of his life - even more than that time he'd tried to sneak into a Lord's house. At least he'd had somewhere to run when that had gone south, now he was stuck. "I liked the look of it." He said after a moment gathering himself up and straightening his back making himself as tall as he could and speaking evenly.
"Is that right?" The Captain smirked at him, "And you were not content to admire my ship from the docks like everyone else?"
"No, I wanted to join your crew."
The laughter was immediate and Eames had to work hard to keep from shrinking against it. "And just what sort of position did you see yourself filling? Look out? Cabin boy? Cook?" The Captain had begun to circle Eames then, leaning in close and speaking in his ear while he made his circuit.
"I- I'd make a fair cabin boy." Eames knew this was not the time to be unsure of anything.
"Do you think so?" The Captain stopped his circuit just in front of him, smirking easily.
"Yes Sir." Eames nodded firmly. None of his earlier hesitation at the idea.
"What do you think Mr. Turpin? Would he make a fair cabin boy?"
"Looks a bit small to me, Cap'n.
"Aye, that he does Mr. Turpin. Not much use for a cabin boy who can't carry his own weight."
"I can though!" Eames spoke up without thinking just needing to make sure they knew he could do this, he could do this job they had for him, any job they had for them, whatever it is. The Captain arched an eyebrow at Eames' outburst.
"Come with me, boy." The Captain grabbed Eames' arm and dragged him off the deck.
Yusuf dragged the boy to his quarters, keeping a tight grip on his arm while he walked him across the deck and then inside, slamming the door behind him.
The colored bottles of liquids and elixirs he'd collected during his travels rattling on the shelves where he stored them. The walls were draped in rich silks and fabrics from the Orient and furs were tossed over the bed. The room was covered with the spoils of their raids and things he traded for throughout their travels.
It was a room meant for comfort a place where he could separate himself from the crew and take a break from all of that.
"Now, we're going to have a conversation about you, and what you're doing on my ship, boy." Yusuf drew himself up to his full height and made sure that he was as menacing as possible. He did not like stowaways nor did he have time to take care of them and teach them what they needed to know to survive on a ship like the Ariadne.
"I didn't mea-"
"No, you don't speak until I tell you to, you don't open your mouth or offer up any commentary that is not specifically requested. You understand me boy."
Eames nodded, his mouth resolutely shut. At least the boy could take orders - that in itself was hard enough for some people.
"Now what will I do with you?" Yusuf caught the boy's chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his head back to really get a good look at him. He was pretty, very pretty actually - and those lips. "Yes I could come up with a great many uses for a boy like you." Yusuf hummed running his thumb over the swell of the boy's lower lip.
He could feel the way he shivered at the touch and Yusuf smirked at the reaction.
"Yes I think the crew would like you very much, it's hard being out at sea for months the way we are - they could use a little pretty something like you to while away the hours."
Eames' eyes opened wide, and Yusuf could see he was dying to say something, though his mouth stayed closed just as it was supposed to.
"What do you think of that, boy?" He asked, he was not completely cruel, and despite what he might have said he wasn't about to turn the boy into some sort of toy for his crew. But there were consequences to sneaking onto his ship without a plan.
"I - I could do that for you." He said slowly at first and then opened his mouth to continue. "I could be so good for you, I know how to do a lot of things, back in London men liked to look at my mouth, liked to touch it and I could suck them - I could do that for you. I could be so good." He rushed through the last, speaking as if his life depended on it, and in some ways it did - at least in the boy's mind.
"Is that right? You'd let me use that pretty mouth of yours just so the crew keeps their hands off?"
Eames nodded eagerly seeming to forget that he was supposed to keep quiet. "I would, I could show you now." And he fell to his knees faster than Yusuf thought was possible reaching up for the belt that kept Yusuf's pants up. In a rush now to prove he could be as good as he claimed.
Yusuf thrust his hand into the boys hair and wrenched his head back hard. "Hands down now." He didn't even raise his voice, let the slow firm tone of it get the point across that he was not to be ignored - especially now. And once Eames' hands had fallen passively to his side Yusuf dragged him back up to his feet. "If I want a demonstration of just how nice that mouth of yours could be then I'll ask you for it. Do you understand me, boy?"
"Yes'sir."
"Now you're going to report to Mr. Turpin, he's going to get you a bunk and you're going to do what he tells you to and if you survive the night we'll see about what to do with you tomorrow."
Eames nodded quickly at that and kept his mouth shut.
Eames had been aboard the Ariadne for almost a month now, his hands were raw from scrubbing the decks, the red stinging skin he'd had to deal with the first few weeks had faded as he turned a darker shade after days spent under the sun.
It was hard work, and there were times in the beginning when Eames wondered if it would not have been better to have been killed that first day. He'd been constantly tired, and hungry, and the rocking of the ship as they made their way through the bright blue expanse of the ocean was enough to make him feel as though he'd never know what it felt like to not feel sick again.
But it started changing eventually, the rocking of the waves started to become a comfort, and the stars at night started to guide him, and he got used to the schedule of ship life. It was starting to become routine for him, a way of life that he wasn't sure how he'd ever lived without before.
It wasn't dodging Bobbies in the streets of London or going to sleep hungry at night, or giving away most of what he'd stolen just to feed his friends. This was a life that was his own. It was hard and sometimes more difficult that he was sure he could bear - but it was the adventure he'd always hoped for.
It had taken them just about four weeks from the time they left London to reach their first stop - a small village on the northern coast of Africa. There was not even a port here, they had to drop anchor just off shore and unload what they were taking into boats to be taken up.
Eames was tasked with helping to bring up boxes and barrels from the hold below deck, watching as the stack grew with each trip they made unloading spoils for the crowd that had gathered there to greet them. On the shore And even more surprising than their greeting was what happened next.
Yusuf was the first out of the boats when they reached the shore, and he approached the man who seemed to be the leader of the people who had gathered while waiting for them to get up to the beach. They had a short conversation after patting each other on the back like they had more than a little history between them, and Eames could not help but feel curious.
Next though they began opening the crates and handing out what they had brought with them, silk, Spanish coins, more food than Eames had even realized the ship had been carrying. The people gratefully took everything Yusuf offered them, they looked like the sort of people who would never have been able to get such things themselves, and the wealth they distributed that day seemed out of place for the region they were in and the sort of people they seemed to be simply giving it away to.
Eames couldn't help but wonder how the crew felt about the spoils they'd helped collect being given away like this.
Still he kept his mouth shut and did anything Mr. Turpin told him to do and stayed out of the way when they were invited into the village for a celebration before they made their way back to the long boats and back to the ship as the camp fires in the center of the village still burned bright against the dark of the night sky.
"Why did you do that?" Eames asked when they were aboard again, making his way up to Yusuf who he had done his best to avoid for the most part since he'd been sent to Mr. Turpin to get his assignments for his life on the ship. The man still scared him, and he couldn't help but flush thinking about what he'd almost done and how he'd been turned down.
"Do what?"
"Give away your things like that?"
Yusuf gave Eames a considering look for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest while he paused like maybe he wasn't going to just send him away with a laugh.
"We don't need it all, these people do."
"But …" Eames paused wondering if it was okay to continue asking, but since Yusuf didn't appear to be stopping him he pressed on. "Isn't that what pirates do? They keep it and stash all their treasure - why risk it if you're just going to give it away?"
"We keep more than enough to make the risk worth it, but not all of it are things we need." Yusuf told him. "Just because we're pirates doesn't mean we're heartless."
"Oh." Eames wasn't sure what to make of that, this man had scared him so much in the beginning, he hadn't know what to make of him then and now this made it even harder for him to understand the sort of person Yusuf was.
"Good night Mr. Eames, good work today. I'll most likely kill you in the morning." Yusuf grinned ruffling Eames' hair and shaking his head, the threat not striking the same amount of fear in him tonight as it had the first time Yusuf had used it. Like perhaps it had never been a serious threat.
He bit his lip standing there on the deck watching Yusuf for a moment, before he stepped in closer and pushed himself up on his toes fingers gripping in Yusuf's shirt trying to get closer. Only to be pushed away with a firm hand on his chest.
"I'll tell you when that's what I want, boy." Yusuf said - his voice sounding tight and breathing just a bit heavier than he had been before.
"Please." Eames wasn't sure if he needed or just wanted or maybe it was neither.
"No." Yusuf grinned and then laughed. "Go to bed Mr. Eames - it's been a long day and I think all that time on land has started to go to your head."
Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.
They were back out to sea again the next day, and they continued sailing up and down the length of the European coastline looking for something unknown sign that would give them their next point of direction. It was several more weeks of nothing the shore occasionally coming into view in the distance but they never got close always keeping their distance out to sea.
Eames was starting to grow restless, not sure what to do with himself with all this ocean stretching out around him, his daily tasks starting to grow monotonous without something to look forward to. Stopping in Morocco had given Eames a burst of energy he had not been aware he'd needed, but the days at sea slowly peeled it away from him until there was nothing left for him.
But as they were nearing the third month there was something.
A ship on the horizon - it would take them several hours before they reached it. Eames wondered if it was a Spanish ship or an English ship maybe someone from Portugal. They'd overtaken a Spanish ship the week before, and only had to raise their flag to have them pulling up the white flag and handing over anything that Yusuf had deemed valuable enough.
In the end they'd left them with enough food for a week, long enough to make it back to the shore so long as the wind held out. And even then they'd be fine for another few days if they rationed what they'd been left with. Yusuf might have been ruthless but he was not cruel Eames had learned.
As they neared the ship the men gathered on the deck preparing to raise their flag and for another simple handing over of goods. But as the ship drew nearer they raised their own flag. One that had the men swearing and Yusuf's flag was raised high.
"That arse." Eames heard Mr. Turpin swear standing off to Yusuf's side. "It's Nash."
"Son of a bitch has been going after ships all up and down the coast line." Yusuf said, though his voice remained calm while he spoke, though the men were clearly arming themselves for some sort of confrontation, unlike the sort of reaction they'd had with the last ship they'd encountered.
"Hold steady men, he's an inexperienced rat looking to make a name for himself. We'll show him what it means to come against the Ariadne." Mr. Turpin called to the crew, his reassurances were met with a round of shouts.
The ships continued to come up against one another, until they were right along side - the canons had been rolled out and swords were pulled from their sheathes and they prepared for a battle.
They were alive, Eames wasn't even sure how they managed that. He was convinced they were going to die - that the other ship actually would board them and that would be it. But they hadn't, and they'd made it and though the Ariadne needed a little tender care she would carry them to their next destination. She would hold long enough for them to fix her up again.
It had been incredible really, just how adept the crew had been at fighting. They had all seemed scary that first day, and perhaps for several days after that until Eames had realized the promise of death that came every night was not actually a threat and just Yusuf's way of saying he cared - it kept Eames sharp, made him pay attention.
Apparently he had been lulled after those first few weeks - started to think the crew was as harmless as they acted toward him most of the time. Especially Yusuf. But seeing him that morning, sword in hand, a dagger between his teeth and a pistol as well - it was like he was a completely different man. The one who had earned that reputation that came with the flag they'd hoisted as soon as the they were approached by Nash and his ship.
If Eames had known from the start what ship this was he never would have climbed aboard and hoped for the best. He might have just been some kid from the street, but Yusuf and his crew had enough of a reputation that even Eames had heard. Even Eames would have steered clear.
And he'd seen today just how well deserved that reputation was. Nash's ship might have taken them by surprise but the Ariadne and her crew were merciless.
It had taken it's toll though.
"You're hurt."
"I'll survive, you'll not be rid of me that easily." Yusuf huffed an amused breath as he tucked his bloodied dagger back into his boot and holstered his pistol.
Eames wanted to be relieved, he was surprised at how much he needed Yusuf to be all right after this altercation. Somewhere along the line the fear he'd first felt when faced with Yusuf had been replaced with something more, with a grudging sort of respect at the start followed by something he wasn't sure how to describe now. He just needed Yusuf to be all right.
"Can I clean you up?
"There's things to take care of." Yusuf said shaking his head and stumbled slightly when he took a step toward the main deck and Eames was there in just a moment fitting himself in under Yusuf's arm to keep him on his feet.
"Let them take care of it." Eames said quietly. Yusuf still looked doubtful, like he was going to take offense to the way Eames was keeping him on his feet. But in the end the steady rocking of the ship combined with his injuries was enough to convince Yusuf that the crew could take care of things for a short while.
"Mr. Turpin take care of things here." Yusuf called to his first mate and let Eames lead him back to his quarters.
Once they were inside with the door shut, Eames pushed Yusuf down on the bed, right on the edge and started to gather the things he would need to clean him up. He got rags and bandages. It wouldn't do much, but it would be enough for now.
Eames just needed to assess the injuries, there was so much blood - some of it from the other crew, some of it Yusuf's and it was hard to see the difference. Eames pushed Yusuf's vest open, got his hands under the shirt beneath on Yusuf's chest and let his fingers seek out any injuries that Yusuf might have.
Nothing he found was too serious, nothing that would kill Yusuf by the end of the day. It was a relief - as Eames washed away the blood finding Yusuf relatively unscathed. Several minor cuts - it was the slice on his arm, the one that had ripped open his shirt and soaked the fabric with blood that had worried Eames so much.
Yusuf winced when Eames ripped away the tattered remains of the sleeve and began to clean away the blood, swiping a clean cloth soaked with a salve over the injury. "We might need to sew this." He said glancing at Yusuf's face for the first time. He was pale and his mouth pressed into a thin line the pain of his injuries and Eames tending to them showing clearly there on his face.
"No," Yusuf shook his head, "Just a bandage, I've had worse." Eames recalled the scars he'd seen the ones he felt as his fingers had skimmed over Yusuf's skin when he felt for injuries - and decided it was the better course of action not to argue.
"Okay, just ... just breathe for a minute." Eames said ripping off a strip of one of the clean bandages and wrapping it around Yusuf's arm and starting to tie it. He pulled it tight, and Yusuf remained quiet despite closing his eyes and gritting his teeth agianst the pain. Eames double knotted the fabric and pulled it tight once more tucking the ends in against Yusuf's skin. "We'll need to change that tomorrow."
"I know, Mr. Eames." Yusuf said placing a hand on Eames shoulder and squeezing gently. Eames hadn't even realized that his hands were trembling. "This is not the first time I've done this, and it won't be the last. The first time is always the worst. You'll be better the next time." He told him gently curling his fingers againt the back of Eames' neck, thumb stroking gently there, reassuring him with the simple touch.
"How do you do this?"
"Do what?"
"This, the fighting the pistols the swords?"
"This is my life." Yusuf told him gently. "I always had a choice in this, you don't have to do this - you could do so much."
Eames shook his head, he might have been shaken by the events of the day, he might feel like he wanted to be sick over the side of the ship if given half a chance, but he didn't want to leave. He couldn't leave. It had been months now that he had been here - the crew, Yusuf, they were all more family than the kids he'd run with in London had ever been before. He couldn't give this up now. "No."
"All right, we'll make sure you're better prepared next time. We'll get you a sword and your own pistol and you'll be able to help next time."
"Okay." Eames sat quietly for a moment, leaning into the hand that was still curled against the back of his neck and impulsively leaned in and pressed his lips against Yusuf's
"Mr. Eames -"
"Please.... please let me." Eames was sure that he would die of Yusuf laughed at him again. He suddenly needed this desperately. He pressed in again, hands on Yusuf's chest, kissing him with as much desperation as he felt. That moment when he saw Yusuf swaying on his feet - when he thought he'd lose him - it had all caught up to him and he dragged him close and wouldn't let himself be pushed away.
But Yusuf didn't push him away this time. He kept him close, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck growling into his mouth like he wanted this as much as Eames did. And he thought he would die - he couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but let himself be kissed. It was everything he needed and everything he wanted.
"Ah careful." Yusuf hissed when they tumbled back onto the bed together, Eames pressed against Yusuf's chest.
"Sorry." Eames huffed a short amused breath and hid his face against Yusuf's neck.
"Patience, boy."
"All right."
"I'll take care of you, just carefully."
And Eames let himself be lost to the sensations that Yusuf was able to pull from his body with the slightest of touches, it felt like Yusuf knew his body as well as he knew the ship - fingers skimming over his chest in the same way Yusuf ran his hands over the railing, tripping and twisting their way over his nipples and chest with the same steady confidence that came with inspection the work that had been done for the day by the crew, watching as Eames fell apart just like he watched his crew hard at work for him.
Eames had never known anything like this and he knew his life would never be the same - he'd found that grand adventure he'd always looked for as he surrendered himself to a chorus of yesgodpleasemoretherefuck.
Like the winds of the sea
Are the waves of time,
As we journey along through life,
'Tis the set of the soul,
That determines the goal,
And not the calm or the strife.
The Ariadne had seen better days that much was certain, but they'd get her put right again - repair the damage Nash and his crew had done and they'd continue sailing just like Yusuf had always done. It would take so much more than an upstart pirate to keep him from the sea that he loved so much.
Yusuf woke in the early morning light with the calm reassuring rocking of the waves as the sun filtered in through dappled glass spilling over his bed - across the smooth bare back of the boy tangled in the sheets beside him.
He ran a finger down the length of Eames' spine, watching the way his body responded eagerly to the touch. He really should have known from that first day, that first moment he'd laid eyes on the boy who'd had the gall to stowaway on his ship that he would cause all manner of trouble and change everything.
But Yusuf couldn't bring himself to care.
Not when Eames turned his face toward him, blinking sleepily at him a slow smile spreading it's way across his face - trying desperately to look at ease and yet he could see the doubt there just behind it.
"Did I ever tell you how I got into piracy?"
To the Art