Fic: Without Answer (Ghost Ship, Dodge/Munder, R)
Awhile back I promised foggynite some Ghost Ship fic, but then things got busy and Dodge was being all broody so I kind of blew it off. For some reason he decided this afternoon would be a good time to work with me, only a) it was Munder who did the talking and b) it turned out quite a bit different than what I had in mind. I'm not even sure it's in character, but I haven't written in...::counts::...nearly five days, so I take what I can get.
I have a feeling there should be more before this, but I'm hoping it makes sense. It made sense in my head, but that doesn't always guarantee it'll translate. Part of the Twelfth Night universe, aka That AU Where They Don't Die At the End.
Dodge has been staring at him for over an hour. Just…looking, like he doesn't care if anybody notices. Munder knows that's not true, but he has a feeling Dodge isn't thinking about the rest of the crew right now. Has a feeling Dodge is thinking the exact same thing he is - thinking about cursed gold and stories floating bars in who knows how many ports and what exactly they'll be in for if the others decide to chase a rumor.
Epps would never go for it - she knows just as well as they do what a bad idea that would be - but there are three of them to the six new crew members Epps hired to make this run, and he's not crazy about two-to-one odds. He can't even blame the others, because if he hadn't already seen the gold he'd probably be just as eager to chase it as they are. But he has seen it, knows what it can do - what it did to his leg - and he's not interested in fighting another battle they can't win.
"What do you say, Dodge?"
One of the crew - Harris, Munder's pretty sure - leans back in his chair to look at Dodge, a hint of a challenge in his eyes and Munder's never been the violent type, but he has to stop himself from standing up and getting between Harris and Dodge.
"About what?" Dodge asks, voice level but Munder's known him long enough to spot the tension in his shoulders.
"About the stories," Harris says, grin almost feral and Munder tells himself he's imagining it. "I mean that's a lot of gold to pass up, it would be crazy not to try."
"What's crazy is the fact that we're having this conversation," Dodge answers, voice still flat as he pushes his chair back and stands up. "All I know is we've got a guaranteed paycheck at the end of this run. If you morons wanna go chase a rumor that's fine by me, but don't do it on my time."
As soon as he says it he walks away, not even bothering to glance back at Munder on his way to the crew cabins. And Munder gets it, because Dodge is the one with the temper and he knows that's the only way Dodge can avoid a fight. But it means he's stuck sitting at the table with three pairs of eyes on him, and there's no way he can get up and follow Dodge without raising a bunch of questions neither of them wants to answer.
"What's his problem?" one of them asks, dragging Munder's attention away from the door Dodge disappeared behind.
"He's got this weird loyalty thing," Munder answers, giving them his best 'what can you do?' expression. "Epps'd never go for it."
"Man, he must want in her pants pretty bad."
They all laugh at that, but they're not looking at him anymore so Munder doesn't bother trying to force a laugh. And he knows it's not true, but it still bothers him to hear it. He should be glad - should be grateful, because it means they haven't figured out that he's the one Dodge is sleeping with. But mostly he just wants to punch something, so he pushes away from the table and stands up, balancing against the back of the chair until he finds his footing.
He mutters something about getting a few hours' sleep before his watch, but they're already back on the gold and they're not paying any attention to him. He tries not to hear their voices, tries not to listen to the whispers on his way out of the room. And he manages to block out most of it, but he still catches the word 'coward' and he clenches his fists even harder as he heads toward the crew cabins.
By the time he reaches their cabin he's gritting his teeth so hard his jaw aches, and he pushes the door open and throws himself down on the bunk without bothering to look at what Dodge is doing. "Thanks a lot."
"What?" Dodge asks, leaning out of the small bathroom to frown at Munder. His face is half covered in shaving cream, a razor in one hand and a towel over one shoulder. He's naked from the waist up and if Munder wasn't so pissed he might care, but his ears are still ringing with words he can't do anything about and it's easier to be pissed at Dodge.
"You left me out there with them, that's what. I had to listen to them taking bets on how long you've been waiting to get into Epps' pants."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about those morons out there," Munder says, rolling his eyes and leaning back on the bunk. He doesn't bother pulling his boots off, knows it will piss off Dodge but he doesn't really care. "They think the reason you don't want to go after the gold is because you're whipped over Epps."
He can just see Dodge in the mirror, watches the razor slide across his skin and the way Dodge tilts his head to get a better angle on his jaw. It's a ritual he's watched a hundred times - a thousand times - and he knows he's being stupid, but he can't bring himself to take it back.
"I don't care what those idiots think," Dodge says, still watching the progress of the razor in the mirror as he speaks.
"Yeah, well, maybe some of us do."
As soon as he says it he regrets it, because he sounds like a spoiled kid. And that's not even what's really bothering him, but it's easier to focus on Epps than to think about the gold and what happens if the rest of the crew decides they want to go after it. Because chances are they won't even find it, but if they do…if it wants to be found, chances are they won't survive it this time.
"Are you serious? Jesus, you are." He hears Dodge lean out of the bathroom again but doesn't look up, doesn't look at the sound of Dodge's sigh or the sound of the water running. And he feels guilty, because he knows exactly how Dodge feels about him, but that doesn't stop him from turning onto his side when he hears the other man crossing the tiny cabin.
A few seconds later there's a dip in the mattress, a familiar body stretching out behind him and a strong arm slides over his waist. He feels smooth skin against his neck, cool from the water but Dodge's lips are warm and his breath is hot when he leans in to whisper in Munder's ear.
"You know who I want."
Munder shivers at the sound of the words, the tickle of them against his earlobe and when Dodge presses even harder against him he can't help pressing back. The hand on his stomach dips a little lower, fingers sliding past fabric to tease the line of soft hair just above Munder's belly button. His cock stirs in response, and Munder lets out a soft groan and reaches down to tug open his pants. He pushes Dodge's hand inside, past his zipper to trace his slowly hardening cock.
The soft 'mmm' just behind his ear makes him shiver again, and when Dodge's hand closes around his cock Munder thrusts up into his grip. He's stroking slowly, just hard enough to keep Munder's interest but not hard enough to end things before they get started. And he knows Dodge is trying to prove a point, but he doesn't really care as long as they can stay like this for as long as possible.
"You think I could do this with Epps?" Dodge whispers, and Munder squeezes his eyes shut against an image of Dodge doing just that, pushing his fingers inside Epps and whispering in her ear about all the ways he wants to fuck her. Because he knows better, but he's been waiting for Dodge to kick him out for four years and just because it hasn't happened doesn't mean it never will. "I don't want to fuck her. I don't want to fuck anybody but you."
He thrusts against Munder for emphasis, cock hard against Munder's ass and he thinks about rolling over and telling Dodge to get on with it. But Dodge is making some kind of point now, and they've been together long enough for Munder to know there's no point in trying to rush him. He'll get around to fucking Munder when he's ready, and until then there's nothing to do but go along for the ride.
"Okay?"
Munder nods against the pillow, eyes still shut tight against the tight ball of need in his stomach. He wants to come, wants Dodge to shut the fuck up already and get down to business but when he feels teeth grazing his neck he knows that's not going to happen.
"Say it."
"I know," he says, voice steadier than he expects but he can hear the impatience in his voice.
"You know what?"
"Fuck…I know you want me."
"Just you," Dodge corrects him, voice still low and it's almost like he's whispering inside Munder's head. The thought makes him shudder again, thrusting harder into Dodge's grip and finally Dodge takes the hint and starts stroking faster. He sucks hard at Munder's neck, and he's going to leave a mark but Munder doesn't even care. Doesn't remind Dodge that he's breaking his own rule about keeping a low profile while they're on the boat, because he wants Dodge to mark him.
He's rocking harder against Dodge's grip, the motion dragging his pants down around his hips and he arches back against the body still pressed against him. Dodge relinquishes his neck with a gasp, breathing in the scents of Munder and sweat as he rocks against the other man. "Jesus, you're hot like this. When I thought you were dead…"
He breaks off and Munder instantly feels guilty, because he knows what Dodge went through to save him. He knows how close they both came to dying, and how scared Dodge has been to leave him alone ever since. He knows all of that, and it shouldn't matter what a bunch of dumb bastards like the guys on their crew think. Nothing matters except this - Dodge's hands on him, his face buried in Munder's hair and just breathing, like he can't get enough. And Munder wants to turn over, wants to look at Dodge and tell him it doesn't matter, that they're both alive and he's sorry for being such a selfish bastard.
But Dodge's hand is still moving, thumb sliding through slick precome and teasing the underside of his cock until Munder's gasping, fingers curled tight around the sheet under him and tensing as he comes. His whole body shakes with the effort, but Dodge's arm is still tight around him and his free hand finds Munder's, uncurling his fingers from the sheet to grip Dodge's hand tighter than strictly necessary. But Dodge doesn't seem to mind, and Munder feels more than hears the words I love you, moron whispered against his neck.
He rolls onto his back, a thousand different responses on the tip of his tongue. I know and I love you too and I'm an idiot, for starters, but before he can say any of them Dodge is kissing him, tongue pushing past his teeth and tilting his head to fit their mouths together just so. He's still hard, thrusting almost lazily against Munder's thigh and he knows he's not getting any sleep before it's time to relieve Epps at the wheel. But he doesn't care, because Dodge is kissing him like he needs Munder to breathe, and this is the way Munder likes him best.
"Sorry I bailed on you back there," Dodge says when he comes up for air, and Munder feels guilty all over again. "I guess I didn't think about it."
"Forget it," he answers, hands working Dodge's jeans open. "What happens if they decide to go after the gold?"
As soon as he says it Dodge's hands still on his shirt, frozen in the act of pushing his last button through its hole. "I guess we try to stop them."
"And when that doesn't work?"
"We get in the life raft and get the hell out of here," Dodge answers, expression fierce and Munder swallows hard against a shudder. "We're not getting anywhere near that gold again. Not after last time."
He doesn't have to say it, because Munder knows exactly what he means. His leg reminds him every day, and even though it's getting better he's pretty sure it's never going to be a hundred percent again. But most of the time he doesn't really mind, because he's alive and he's got Dodge, and that's worth more than all the gold in the world.
~
PS -- Am increasingly nervous about the premiere of season five. This can't be normal.
I have a feeling there should be more before this, but I'm hoping it makes sense. It made sense in my head, but that doesn't always guarantee it'll translate. Part of the Twelfth Night universe, aka That AU Where They Don't Die At the End.
Dodge has been staring at him for over an hour. Just…looking, like he doesn't care if anybody notices. Munder knows that's not true, but he has a feeling Dodge isn't thinking about the rest of the crew right now. Has a feeling Dodge is thinking the exact same thing he is - thinking about cursed gold and stories floating bars in who knows how many ports and what exactly they'll be in for if the others decide to chase a rumor.
Epps would never go for it - she knows just as well as they do what a bad idea that would be - but there are three of them to the six new crew members Epps hired to make this run, and he's not crazy about two-to-one odds. He can't even blame the others, because if he hadn't already seen the gold he'd probably be just as eager to chase it as they are. But he has seen it, knows what it can do - what it did to his leg - and he's not interested in fighting another battle they can't win.
"What do you say, Dodge?"
One of the crew - Harris, Munder's pretty sure - leans back in his chair to look at Dodge, a hint of a challenge in his eyes and Munder's never been the violent type, but he has to stop himself from standing up and getting between Harris and Dodge.
"About what?" Dodge asks, voice level but Munder's known him long enough to spot the tension in his shoulders.
"About the stories," Harris says, grin almost feral and Munder tells himself he's imagining it. "I mean that's a lot of gold to pass up, it would be crazy not to try."
"What's crazy is the fact that we're having this conversation," Dodge answers, voice still flat as he pushes his chair back and stands up. "All I know is we've got a guaranteed paycheck at the end of this run. If you morons wanna go chase a rumor that's fine by me, but don't do it on my time."
As soon as he says it he walks away, not even bothering to glance back at Munder on his way to the crew cabins. And Munder gets it, because Dodge is the one with the temper and he knows that's the only way Dodge can avoid a fight. But it means he's stuck sitting at the table with three pairs of eyes on him, and there's no way he can get up and follow Dodge without raising a bunch of questions neither of them wants to answer.
"What's his problem?" one of them asks, dragging Munder's attention away from the door Dodge disappeared behind.
"He's got this weird loyalty thing," Munder answers, giving them his best 'what can you do?' expression. "Epps'd never go for it."
"Man, he must want in her pants pretty bad."
They all laugh at that, but they're not looking at him anymore so Munder doesn't bother trying to force a laugh. And he knows it's not true, but it still bothers him to hear it. He should be glad - should be grateful, because it means they haven't figured out that he's the one Dodge is sleeping with. But mostly he just wants to punch something, so he pushes away from the table and stands up, balancing against the back of the chair until he finds his footing.
He mutters something about getting a few hours' sleep before his watch, but they're already back on the gold and they're not paying any attention to him. He tries not to hear their voices, tries not to listen to the whispers on his way out of the room. And he manages to block out most of it, but he still catches the word 'coward' and he clenches his fists even harder as he heads toward the crew cabins.
By the time he reaches their cabin he's gritting his teeth so hard his jaw aches, and he pushes the door open and throws himself down on the bunk without bothering to look at what Dodge is doing. "Thanks a lot."
"What?" Dodge asks, leaning out of the small bathroom to frown at Munder. His face is half covered in shaving cream, a razor in one hand and a towel over one shoulder. He's naked from the waist up and if Munder wasn't so pissed he might care, but his ears are still ringing with words he can't do anything about and it's easier to be pissed at Dodge.
"You left me out there with them, that's what. I had to listen to them taking bets on how long you've been waiting to get into Epps' pants."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about those morons out there," Munder says, rolling his eyes and leaning back on the bunk. He doesn't bother pulling his boots off, knows it will piss off Dodge but he doesn't really care. "They think the reason you don't want to go after the gold is because you're whipped over Epps."
He can just see Dodge in the mirror, watches the razor slide across his skin and the way Dodge tilts his head to get a better angle on his jaw. It's a ritual he's watched a hundred times - a thousand times - and he knows he's being stupid, but he can't bring himself to take it back.
"I don't care what those idiots think," Dodge says, still watching the progress of the razor in the mirror as he speaks.
"Yeah, well, maybe some of us do."
As soon as he says it he regrets it, because he sounds like a spoiled kid. And that's not even what's really bothering him, but it's easier to focus on Epps than to think about the gold and what happens if the rest of the crew decides they want to go after it. Because chances are they won't even find it, but if they do…if it wants to be found, chances are they won't survive it this time.
"Are you serious? Jesus, you are." He hears Dodge lean out of the bathroom again but doesn't look up, doesn't look at the sound of Dodge's sigh or the sound of the water running. And he feels guilty, because he knows exactly how Dodge feels about him, but that doesn't stop him from turning onto his side when he hears the other man crossing the tiny cabin.
A few seconds later there's a dip in the mattress, a familiar body stretching out behind him and a strong arm slides over his waist. He feels smooth skin against his neck, cool from the water but Dodge's lips are warm and his breath is hot when he leans in to whisper in Munder's ear.
"You know who I want."
Munder shivers at the sound of the words, the tickle of them against his earlobe and when Dodge presses even harder against him he can't help pressing back. The hand on his stomach dips a little lower, fingers sliding past fabric to tease the line of soft hair just above Munder's belly button. His cock stirs in response, and Munder lets out a soft groan and reaches down to tug open his pants. He pushes Dodge's hand inside, past his zipper to trace his slowly hardening cock.
The soft 'mmm' just behind his ear makes him shiver again, and when Dodge's hand closes around his cock Munder thrusts up into his grip. He's stroking slowly, just hard enough to keep Munder's interest but not hard enough to end things before they get started. And he knows Dodge is trying to prove a point, but he doesn't really care as long as they can stay like this for as long as possible.
"You think I could do this with Epps?" Dodge whispers, and Munder squeezes his eyes shut against an image of Dodge doing just that, pushing his fingers inside Epps and whispering in her ear about all the ways he wants to fuck her. Because he knows better, but he's been waiting for Dodge to kick him out for four years and just because it hasn't happened doesn't mean it never will. "I don't want to fuck her. I don't want to fuck anybody but you."
He thrusts against Munder for emphasis, cock hard against Munder's ass and he thinks about rolling over and telling Dodge to get on with it. But Dodge is making some kind of point now, and they've been together long enough for Munder to know there's no point in trying to rush him. He'll get around to fucking Munder when he's ready, and until then there's nothing to do but go along for the ride.
"Okay?"
Munder nods against the pillow, eyes still shut tight against the tight ball of need in his stomach. He wants to come, wants Dodge to shut the fuck up already and get down to business but when he feels teeth grazing his neck he knows that's not going to happen.
"Say it."
"I know," he says, voice steadier than he expects but he can hear the impatience in his voice.
"You know what?"
"Fuck…I know you want me."
"Just you," Dodge corrects him, voice still low and it's almost like he's whispering inside Munder's head. The thought makes him shudder again, thrusting harder into Dodge's grip and finally Dodge takes the hint and starts stroking faster. He sucks hard at Munder's neck, and he's going to leave a mark but Munder doesn't even care. Doesn't remind Dodge that he's breaking his own rule about keeping a low profile while they're on the boat, because he wants Dodge to mark him.
He's rocking harder against Dodge's grip, the motion dragging his pants down around his hips and he arches back against the body still pressed against him. Dodge relinquishes his neck with a gasp, breathing in the scents of Munder and sweat as he rocks against the other man. "Jesus, you're hot like this. When I thought you were dead…"
He breaks off and Munder instantly feels guilty, because he knows what Dodge went through to save him. He knows how close they both came to dying, and how scared Dodge has been to leave him alone ever since. He knows all of that, and it shouldn't matter what a bunch of dumb bastards like the guys on their crew think. Nothing matters except this - Dodge's hands on him, his face buried in Munder's hair and just breathing, like he can't get enough. And Munder wants to turn over, wants to look at Dodge and tell him it doesn't matter, that they're both alive and he's sorry for being such a selfish bastard.
But Dodge's hand is still moving, thumb sliding through slick precome and teasing the underside of his cock until Munder's gasping, fingers curled tight around the sheet under him and tensing as he comes. His whole body shakes with the effort, but Dodge's arm is still tight around him and his free hand finds Munder's, uncurling his fingers from the sheet to grip Dodge's hand tighter than strictly necessary. But Dodge doesn't seem to mind, and Munder feels more than hears the words I love you, moron whispered against his neck.
He rolls onto his back, a thousand different responses on the tip of his tongue. I know and I love you too and I'm an idiot, for starters, but before he can say any of them Dodge is kissing him, tongue pushing past his teeth and tilting his head to fit their mouths together just so. He's still hard, thrusting almost lazily against Munder's thigh and he knows he's not getting any sleep before it's time to relieve Epps at the wheel. But he doesn't care, because Dodge is kissing him like he needs Munder to breathe, and this is the way Munder likes him best.
"Sorry I bailed on you back there," Dodge says when he comes up for air, and Munder feels guilty all over again. "I guess I didn't think about it."
"Forget it," he answers, hands working Dodge's jeans open. "What happens if they decide to go after the gold?"
As soon as he says it Dodge's hands still on his shirt, frozen in the act of pushing his last button through its hole. "I guess we try to stop them."
"And when that doesn't work?"
"We get in the life raft and get the hell out of here," Dodge answers, expression fierce and Munder swallows hard against a shudder. "We're not getting anywhere near that gold again. Not after last time."
He doesn't have to say it, because Munder knows exactly what he means. His leg reminds him every day, and even though it's getting better he's pretty sure it's never going to be a hundred percent again. But most of the time he doesn't really mind, because he's alive and he's got Dodge, and that's worth more than all the gold in the world.
~
PS -- Am increasingly nervous about the premiere of season five. This can't be normal.