Fanfiction: Below Decks (Assassin's Creed IV, Edward/Kidd)
I think this is the twentieth fic I've posted this year! I haven't produced anything long - it's all been between 1,000 and 5,000 words - but I'm still pleased with this level of productivity. I've actually had a few hundred words of this lying around for a year and a half; I'm slightly astonished that I finally got it finished. It was fun to go back to writing Kidd. Kidd is the best.
Title: Below Decks
Fandom: Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag
Rating: light R
Pairing: Edward Kenway/James Kidd
Wordcount: 1,300
Summary: Edward Kenway has never been shy about going after what he wants, even if what he wants happens to be a man. He's in for a surprise.
Edward has admired James Kidd for a good while before he starts to suspect that admiration might not be the only word applicable. He knows to look the other way with some of his crew, of course, but it’s never really crossed his mind that he might find himself eyeing a man in that way. There’s something magnetic about Kidd, though, a pull that’s hard to ignore. It’s a wonder he doesn’t make the compasses go awry.
Once he knows where his own compass is pointing, Edward knows he has to try his chances, at least. Might make things odd between them, but he hasn’t the self-control to box this up. He’s a man accustomed to going after what he wants.
-
“You’d better make this worth my while, Kenway,” Kidd says, boarding the Jackdaw. “If you’ve not called me here to take over as captain, you’ve wasted the invitation.”
They’re alone on the deck; Edward’s shooed his men off to investigate the local tavern. It seems strange that this, of all things, should feel more intimidating than a full pistol-and-cutlass assault on a ship of the Royal Navy. If Kidd takes this poorly, that’s not a problem he can shoot at. “You’re not having my ship, Kidd.”
“Can’t blame a man for trying,” Kidd says. “So what’s so important?”
Edward takes a few steps towards him. “We’ve known each other some time now.”
“Unfortunately enough,” Kidd says. “If you’ve a point to make, make it. I don’t have time for speeches.”
Edward can appreciate that; he’s not a patient man himself. In all honesty, he’s glad to be spared from attempting the delicate approach. “Called you here in hopes of a kiss, truth be told.”
Kidd cocks his head. “Not sure I heard that right.”
Not the most encouraging response, but he’s had worse. He steps a little closer to check Kidd’s reaction. Kidd watches him in increasing wariness.
“I could make it clearer,” Edward suggests. He moves to touch Kidd’s face, but Kidd takes a half-step back, and Edward backs off as well at that. No luck, it seems. He hopes he hasn’t killed any chance of drinking together in the future.
“How did you find out?” Kidd demands.
There’s a look in his eyes that Edward isn’t accustomed to seeing there. It takes him a moment to realise it’s fear.
“Put it from your mind,” Edward says, holding up his hands. “It was a lapse of thought. I’ll do nothing more to offend you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Kenway. I didn’t ask you to stop. I asked you how you’d found out.”
Edward’s mind suddenly seems to stop functioning. “You, ah, you didn’t ask me to stop?”
Kidd rolls his eyes, and the next second - well, either Edward’s being kissed or he’s just been rammed by a man-o’-war. Hard to tell the difference. Either way, it knocks him to the deck, and Kidd is pinning him down, and this is real, this is real, Edward can feel the rough wood beneath his fingers and the salt air on his skin. He isn’t a man dreaming.
“Tell me how you know,” Kidd mutters between kisses, shifting against the front of Edward’s breeches.
It’s hard to focus enough to speak. “Are you trying to torture me into a confession? Not sure you’ve picked the method for it.”
Kidd sits back on his heels at once, ignoring Edward’s noise of protest. “Tell me how you know.”
“How I know what?”
Kidd looks warily at him. “I’d say you were playing ignorant, but I know you’re no stranger to the real thing.”
“How I knew you had a taste for men?” Edward hazards. “If I’d known, believe me, it would have saved me some sorrow.”
“What are you on about, Kenway?”
“Why am I being interrogated, if you don’t mind me courting you?”
Kidd snorts. “As if you’ve ever courted anyone.”
“Well, we’ve skipped over the duller steps, but the result’s much the same. Marriage aside, naturally, given the parts involved.”
Kidd raises his eyebrows. “And what parts would those be?”
Edward has the distinct sense that he’s being toyed with. “Don’t play the innocent, Kidd. The parts of ours that match rather closer than a priest would prefer. The parts yearning for freedom, with you near enough in my lap.”
Kidd leans his weight a little harder against Edward’s groin, deliberately and monstrously. “Interesting. Think I’m starting to see where the misunderstanding came in. So you’ve been long enough at sea to start looking to men to warm your bed?”
“Don’t pretend you’re bearing God’s judgement down to me,” Edward says. There’s a hot prickling at the back of his neck, but he refuses to feel shame, or at least to feel it where Kidd can see it. “You seemed eager enough to participate a moment ago.”
“If God’s judgement’s something you’re expecting to face, I think you’ll have bigger worries than who makes you fill out your breeches,” Kidd says. He kisses Edward again. “Let’s see if you’re any better at this than you are at piracy.”
“What’s wrong with my piracy?” Edward protests.
“You’re asking for a list? We’ll be done here before I’ve finished talking.”
Edward tries to concentrate on what’s happening here, and not to dwell on that comment. Kidd seems, as ever, to be wearing several thousand belts. Edward occupies himself with loosening them.
Two belts in, he cracks. “You’re not slighting the Jackdaw, are you?”
Kidd laughs. “The problems lie solely with her captain, I promise you.”
“Good,” Edward says. “So long as we’re clear on that.”
He manages to get a hand inside Kidd’s breeches at last. Something about all this feels odd, but that’s probably not a surprise. Not every day you find yourself rolling around on the deck with James Kidd.
A moment later he discovers that, no, that’s not the only odd aspect to this situation.
Edward freezes. Stares at Kidd. And stares, and stares.
“Kidd,” he says at last. “Don’t be alarmed, but there seems to be something odd between your legs.”
“It’s called Edward Kenway,” Kidd says. “Doctors say there’s nowt to be done about it.”
“I was talking about the... womanly... parts.”
Kidd snorts with laughter. “What d’you call them?”
The shock of it is making Edward feel strangely detached. Part of his mind seems to be busily convincing the rest of it that he’s dreaming. “You’re a woman?”
“What’s that tone for? Thought you might be pleased. Y’know, now that you know you don’t have God breathing down your neck.”
“Pleased?” Edward echoes. “I just found out James Kidd doesn’t exist. This may have escaped your notice, but I rather liked James Kidd.”
“James Kidd’s as real as I am. Seeing as he’s me and all.”
It makes little sense to be disappointed. He likes women a great deal; he certainly has a clearer idea of what to do with one. And yet, after all that effort mentally bracing himself for the challenge of lying with a man, there’s a part of him put out that he won’t have the chance to try it.
How is he supposed to react to a revelation like that at a time like this? Does he retreat, re-evaluate whether he still wants Kidd in this new light? It’d be torture to leave this business unfinished.
“You couldn’t have let me live in ignorance a little longer?” he asks.
“Didn’t order you to go haring down my trousers, did I?” Kidd asks. “You did that on your own. If my womanly parts are causing you grief, I’d be happy to take them away from you. You can hang the Jackdaw’s flag from that pole of yours if you’re not planning to use it here.”
Difficult revelations or none, it’s a hideous thought that Kidd might just leave. It’s a devil of a situation in which to have to come to terms with this, but he can probably manage. “Let’s not go that far.”
Kidd smirks.
Title: Below Decks
Fandom: Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag
Rating: light R
Pairing: Edward Kenway/James Kidd
Wordcount: 1,300
Summary: Edward Kenway has never been shy about going after what he wants, even if what he wants happens to be a man. He's in for a surprise.
Edward has admired James Kidd for a good while before he starts to suspect that admiration might not be the only word applicable. He knows to look the other way with some of his crew, of course, but it’s never really crossed his mind that he might find himself eyeing a man in that way. There’s something magnetic about Kidd, though, a pull that’s hard to ignore. It’s a wonder he doesn’t make the compasses go awry.
Once he knows where his own compass is pointing, Edward knows he has to try his chances, at least. Might make things odd between them, but he hasn’t the self-control to box this up. He’s a man accustomed to going after what he wants.
-
“You’d better make this worth my while, Kenway,” Kidd says, boarding the Jackdaw. “If you’ve not called me here to take over as captain, you’ve wasted the invitation.”
They’re alone on the deck; Edward’s shooed his men off to investigate the local tavern. It seems strange that this, of all things, should feel more intimidating than a full pistol-and-cutlass assault on a ship of the Royal Navy. If Kidd takes this poorly, that’s not a problem he can shoot at. “You’re not having my ship, Kidd.”
“Can’t blame a man for trying,” Kidd says. “So what’s so important?”
Edward takes a few steps towards him. “We’ve known each other some time now.”
“Unfortunately enough,” Kidd says. “If you’ve a point to make, make it. I don’t have time for speeches.”
Edward can appreciate that; he’s not a patient man himself. In all honesty, he’s glad to be spared from attempting the delicate approach. “Called you here in hopes of a kiss, truth be told.”
Kidd cocks his head. “Not sure I heard that right.”
Not the most encouraging response, but he’s had worse. He steps a little closer to check Kidd’s reaction. Kidd watches him in increasing wariness.
“I could make it clearer,” Edward suggests. He moves to touch Kidd’s face, but Kidd takes a half-step back, and Edward backs off as well at that. No luck, it seems. He hopes he hasn’t killed any chance of drinking together in the future.
“How did you find out?” Kidd demands.
There’s a look in his eyes that Edward isn’t accustomed to seeing there. It takes him a moment to realise it’s fear.
“Put it from your mind,” Edward says, holding up his hands. “It was a lapse of thought. I’ll do nothing more to offend you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Kenway. I didn’t ask you to stop. I asked you how you’d found out.”
Edward’s mind suddenly seems to stop functioning. “You, ah, you didn’t ask me to stop?”
Kidd rolls his eyes, and the next second - well, either Edward’s being kissed or he’s just been rammed by a man-o’-war. Hard to tell the difference. Either way, it knocks him to the deck, and Kidd is pinning him down, and this is real, this is real, Edward can feel the rough wood beneath his fingers and the salt air on his skin. He isn’t a man dreaming.
“Tell me how you know,” Kidd mutters between kisses, shifting against the front of Edward’s breeches.
It’s hard to focus enough to speak. “Are you trying to torture me into a confession? Not sure you’ve picked the method for it.”
Kidd sits back on his heels at once, ignoring Edward’s noise of protest. “Tell me how you know.”
“How I know what?”
Kidd looks warily at him. “I’d say you were playing ignorant, but I know you’re no stranger to the real thing.”
“How I knew you had a taste for men?” Edward hazards. “If I’d known, believe me, it would have saved me some sorrow.”
“What are you on about, Kenway?”
“Why am I being interrogated, if you don’t mind me courting you?”
Kidd snorts. “As if you’ve ever courted anyone.”
“Well, we’ve skipped over the duller steps, but the result’s much the same. Marriage aside, naturally, given the parts involved.”
Kidd raises his eyebrows. “And what parts would those be?”
Edward has the distinct sense that he’s being toyed with. “Don’t play the innocent, Kidd. The parts of ours that match rather closer than a priest would prefer. The parts yearning for freedom, with you near enough in my lap.”
Kidd leans his weight a little harder against Edward’s groin, deliberately and monstrously. “Interesting. Think I’m starting to see where the misunderstanding came in. So you’ve been long enough at sea to start looking to men to warm your bed?”
“Don’t pretend you’re bearing God’s judgement down to me,” Edward says. There’s a hot prickling at the back of his neck, but he refuses to feel shame, or at least to feel it where Kidd can see it. “You seemed eager enough to participate a moment ago.”
“If God’s judgement’s something you’re expecting to face, I think you’ll have bigger worries than who makes you fill out your breeches,” Kidd says. He kisses Edward again. “Let’s see if you’re any better at this than you are at piracy.”
“What’s wrong with my piracy?” Edward protests.
“You’re asking for a list? We’ll be done here before I’ve finished talking.”
Edward tries to concentrate on what’s happening here, and not to dwell on that comment. Kidd seems, as ever, to be wearing several thousand belts. Edward occupies himself with loosening them.
Two belts in, he cracks. “You’re not slighting the Jackdaw, are you?”
Kidd laughs. “The problems lie solely with her captain, I promise you.”
“Good,” Edward says. “So long as we’re clear on that.”
He manages to get a hand inside Kidd’s breeches at last. Something about all this feels odd, but that’s probably not a surprise. Not every day you find yourself rolling around on the deck with James Kidd.
A moment later he discovers that, no, that’s not the only odd aspect to this situation.
Edward freezes. Stares at Kidd. And stares, and stares.
“Kidd,” he says at last. “Don’t be alarmed, but there seems to be something odd between your legs.”
“It’s called Edward Kenway,” Kidd says. “Doctors say there’s nowt to be done about it.”
“I was talking about the... womanly... parts.”
Kidd snorts with laughter. “What d’you call them?”
The shock of it is making Edward feel strangely detached. Part of his mind seems to be busily convincing the rest of it that he’s dreaming. “You’re a woman?”
“What’s that tone for? Thought you might be pleased. Y’know, now that you know you don’t have God breathing down your neck.”
“Pleased?” Edward echoes. “I just found out James Kidd doesn’t exist. This may have escaped your notice, but I rather liked James Kidd.”
“James Kidd’s as real as I am. Seeing as he’s me and all.”
It makes little sense to be disappointed. He likes women a great deal; he certainly has a clearer idea of what to do with one. And yet, after all that effort mentally bracing himself for the challenge of lying with a man, there’s a part of him put out that he won’t have the chance to try it.
How is he supposed to react to a revelation like that at a time like this? Does he retreat, re-evaluate whether he still wants Kidd in this new light? It’d be torture to leave this business unfinished.
“You couldn’t have let me live in ignorance a little longer?” he asks.
“Didn’t order you to go haring down my trousers, did I?” Kidd asks. “You did that on your own. If my womanly parts are causing you grief, I’d be happy to take them away from you. You can hang the Jackdaw’s flag from that pole of yours if you’re not planning to use it here.”
Difficult revelations or none, it’s a hideous thought that Kidd might just leave. It’s a devil of a situation in which to have to come to terms with this, but he can probably manage. “Let’s not go that far.”
Kidd smirks.