RL With Norrington: Truth Virus
Just barely recovering from a lucky shot to the leg, Shuraiya ducked into an alley and slumped against the grimy brick, clutching his side as the pirates stampeded by like so many drunk cattle. They were calling out his name, threatening to slaughter him for what he had done to their nakama. The footsteps died down, but Shuraiya knew they'd be back, once they realized their prey had evaded them. He cursed, knowing he'd been too overconfident - he hadn't known, no, wasn't told that the pirates he'd been sent to exterminate had devil fruit powers. A little slip up on the World Government's behalf, if you will.
He coughed, spattering bright blood down the front of his jacket. Shuraiya wiped his chin with a dirty hand - ironically, he only managed to smear more of his own blood across his mouth - and swore bitterly. There was no way he could continue to fight in this condition, nor could he claim sanctuary anywhere - the nearest Marine Base was at least an hour away by boat. By.. boa... His thoughts trailed off for a moment, and the boy could feel himself slipping away. Shuraiya slapped himself, battling the darkness threatening to overtake him. He had to get out of here before he was found.
Shuraiya peeked out of the alleyway, glancing around. It seemed the brutes were dumber than he'd given them credit for - but it didn't matter. He had to get to his ship; it was the only way he could get out of this mess. Half-running and half-limping, Shuraiya headed to the docks, ducking behind dumpsters and into alleys whenever he heard a group of people approaching. Being an injured bounty hunter in a pirate town was like a lamb being put to slaughter. Especially if that bounty hunter was the Pirate Executioner himself.
Shuraiya somehow made it to the docks without being seen and stumbled to his boat, blinking away the unconsciousness with little success. He dropped himself into it and whispered, "P-Port Royal."
Thankfully, the ship seemed to know to land him right at the deserted, rain-slicked docks of Port Royal. Shuraiya dragged himself out of the boat and looked back at it, frowning a little. "Stay here." He muttered weakly before limping up the path towards the city. He could only hope it wouldn't be washed out by the tide - at least it could not be pillaged, he had made sure of that by the Genie before.
Slipping and limping in the rain, Shuraiya followed the streets leading towards the Ambercroft, each step slower and heavier than the last. He clutched his leg, trying to stem the endless flow of blood - but the bullet had bit deep; it would have to be removed. By whom, Shuraiya didn't know or care. He just knew he had to get to James.
The boy made it to the mansion - every window was dark, but he didn't have the energy to shout for help. He dropped to his knees on the wetfront steps and collapsed there, gasping as he finally let unconsciousness take him. He would be safe here.
It seemed the fates were on Shuraiya's side, tonight, as he had collapsed mere minutes before one of the help had decided to finally take out the garbage (the rain had made her decide against it most of the night), only to nearly step on the face of an unconscious, bloody man. Of course, her scream nearly woke half the house. James came, alert, hearing there was someone dead upon his doorstep and nearly had a heart attack when he saw who it was.
All thoughts stopped, rational, irrational, and he ordered sternly that they should call for the doctor immediately. He stepped into the rain, bending to scoop Shuraiya up as gently as possible, cradling the boy against his chest as he brought him inside, and to one of the empty help's rooms. He'd wanted to bring Shuraiya to his own but was convinced otherwise by an equally stubborn maid who suggested she'd be able to take care of his wounds overnight, after the doctor left.
It was already warm and clean, which was quickly ruined by both Norrington and Shuraiya, who were now wet and soaked with Shuraiya's blood. Even after he settled him down, brushed his hair out his eyes and was pushed aside so they may tend to cleaning him up and changing what he wore before the Doctor came, but James would not be removed, watching stone faced and silent, pushing away those who offered to take his shirt before it got stained too badly. Even the Doctor seemed a little horrified at the look of Norrington and Shuraiya, though he didn't ask, merely tended to what of him was bleeding, removing the bullet, bandaging him up tight and offering herbal pain reliefs, and estimating when the boy would be fully functioning.
The rest of the night, James sat at his side, watching like a hawk, leaving only once to finally change, rub dry his now scraggly hair. The maids took the hint and left him be with Shuraiya, checking in to see if he'd woken up yet, or if James needed anything but he merely shook his head, waiting for them to leave before sighing heavily. What had happened? God, imagine if they'd not found him in time and he'd just ... died there. What if he died there! He chewed his lip absently, shifting to lift, dip a wash cloth in some cool water, lowering by the bedside to wipe it tenderly over his forehead. "You look terrible," he murmured quietly, frowning, tracing the cloth over his cheek, tilting his head, "Just wake up, tell me you're okay..."
Shuraiya's lashes fluttered as if in response, his face leaning into the cool cloth with a quiet, shaky breath. He shifted ever so slightly, bandaged fingertips twitching, aching to reach out and touch the owner of the voice. But with every limb in the boy's haggard body weighed down from exhaustion and blood loss, it was too much to ask. Chapped lips moved slowly, forming a name in a weak voice no louder than a whisper. "J-James..."
He faltered as Shuraiya moved, eyes widening some, lips pulling into a relieved smile. It was like every weight that settled on his shoulders had lifted, temporarily, "I'm ... I'm here," he breathed, other hand rising to trace his hair line with trembling fingers, then his cheek, needing to just... touch him. To be aware that this was indeed Shuraiya moving, speaking, and not just some cruel daydream, "Relax, sleep... it's okay."
Soothed by James' touch, Shuraiya smiled some, shoulders sinking against the pillows. Too sore and tired to argue, Shuraiya relaxed with a quiet sigh. "Stay," He murmured, leaning into the gentle fingertips on his cheek, barely awake now. "...please..."
He paused, nodding, but realizing that he probably hadn't caught that, "Of course, Shuraiya," it seemed silly he even had to ask, "I wouldn't dream of leaving. Promise." Nothing more needed to be said, so he said nothing, merely continued to wet his forehead when it seemed a fever may be rising, or update an inquiring maid as she peeked in and as the night continued, sleep finally won and he perched his arms on the bed, head resting there, the rest of him slumped against the frame and floor, unperturbed by the cold or awkward positioning, only wanting to be near Shuraiya, to keep his promise.
Throughout the night, fevered nightmares plagued the boy - nonsensical, painful dreams that made him cry out in agony. He awoke several times, startled to consciousness by his own gasps of pain, only to sink back into the same dream again almost instantly.
James roused dutifully every time Shuraiya did, pressing the cloth to his forehead, murmuring comforting things, gathering up his hand to hold, stroke the back of in hope it'd alleviate his mind. Gods, he must've gone through something like hell if it was affecting him like this-- maybe it was really just years of it, building up. He slumped back down, pressing his cheek to the others bandaged hang, sighing heavily. The sky had started to brighten; he'd have to have someone cancel his appointments today-- there was no way he'd have the energy and... He would've rather stayed with Shuraiya anyway.
James' presence comforted the boy greatly; his troubling dreams eventually subsided and he slept comfortably, deeply, hand grasping the other's in a grip that was firm even in sleep. Shuraiya slept well into midday, finally waking when the sun cut through the storm clouds and lit up the room.
Shuraiya looked around the room groggily, unable to remember how he'd gotten there. He lifted his leg, only to let it drop with a curse as the wound throbbed angrily, as though scolding him for moving. He felt breath across his arm and looked down, shocked to see James kneeling there, dozing and clutching his hand.
He was still a mess too-- hair curling more than usual from being dried so haphazardly, clothes wrinkled, shadows under his eyes from the lack of sleep that he'd started to catch up on-- but with Shuraiya's movement, he jerked awake, blinking sleepily, hand squeezing the others instinctively. His free one rose to rub at his eyes, glancing up. He paused and smiled sleepily, "You're awake."
"Yeah," Shuraiya couldn't help but return the smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards him. He looked over the other man, his bedraggled appearance and tired smile made it obvious to the boy - he'd been at his side all night long. Shuraiya began to sit up, but the wound in his side protested with a sharp, digging pain. "F-fuck!" He cursed, his free hand lifting to grasp at his bandaged ribs. He laughed bitterly, pulling his hand away to check for blood, "...not going to try that again."
"Ah, careful," he murmured, hiding a yawn into his shoulder before shifting, "Here," he gently removed his hands, shifting to grab some pillows that'd been set in the corner of the room, in case he wanted to sleep on the floor, bringing them over. He helped Shuraiya lift as gently as possible, angling the pillows so he could sit up comfortably without his side hurting. He settled back tiredly at his side, propping his chin on his arms, "I sent some men to get your ship and dock it properly; it'd nearly got swept out to sea in the storm." No, he wasn't quite ready to inquire as to what happened yet, though he wanted to. In fact, he was finding it harder not to just outright ask, instead, quietly, "You could've died, you know."
"I know," Shuraiya replied matter-of-factly, looking at James with a tired, dubious expression. He leaned back on the pillows, wincing once before settling down, tilting his head in the other man's direction. "That's why I came here."
"You're lucky," he said, averting his eyes, chewing his lip thoughtfully before continuing, "They found you just in time, the doctor said. Been shot, torn up-- Christ, Shuraiya," his brows drew, but he just sighed, eyes sliding shut, "I'm... happy you're," yawn, "okay."
Shuraiya yawned as well, covering his mouth with a bruised palm. "I was overconfident," he said quietly, letting his hand fall to his lap, "And went after a crew I knew I couldn't defeat." He shrugged, closing his eyes for a moment. "I should know better by now than to go after devil fruit users..."
An eye cracked open, then the other, giving the other an incredibly disapproving look. "Are you serious?" He lifted his head, pursing his lips against reprimanding him but really couldn’t help himself, "You're either the bravest or stupidest man I know." After a moment, he perked, "Oh... Are you hungry? I can get you something."
"Thanks," Shuraiya replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Hell, he knew what he'd done was reckless, he didn't need James to reiterate it, it was like rubbing salt into the wound. The mention of food curbed his annoyance and Shuraiya brightened, looking up with a hopeful grin. "Yeah, I'm starving."
"Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes," He pushed himself up eagerly, disappearing into the hallway and after about ten minutes (most of which was spent hassling the kitchen staff, as he was fairly incapable of making anything decent himself), he returned with a simple sandwich, drink, and apple. He set the plate and cup on the nightstand and snagged the last spare pillow to sit upon; having decided that he'd rather not be in Shuraiya's personal bubble while he ate. Felt tactful. "If you want anything else, I'll be happy to get it for you."
"Mmph," Shuraiya nodded, hungrily grabbing the sandwich and stuffing it in his mouth. He finished it off quickly and started on the apple, taking a large, grateful bite out of it. "Thanks, 'ppreciate it." He grinned, chewing on the sweet, crisp fruit happily. He swiped a thumb across his chin, catching a trail of juice and licking it off absently.
"..." He watched this with awkward curiosity, forcibly averting his eyes. There were many things he coveted, he found, but the last thing he expected to covet was a thumb. "Mmhm," he mused in response, taking to staring at his fingernails, a little disturbed to find some dried blood there, "I didn't make the sandwich but you're welcome." Well...where did that come from-- it was up and out of his mouth before he could stop it. Fingernails, right, they were dirty, Stop acting so bizarre, James.
Shuraiya took another rather juicy bite out of the apple, chewing while watching James, who suddenly was absorbed in inspecting his nails. His hair, despite having dried frizzy, was surprisingly curly, and the light from outside made it shine slightly reddish. It looked quite nice, really, and Shuraiya wanted to run his fingers through i-- He chomped on the apple with a frown, dropping the hand he'd lifted - what the hell? Was he honestly about to actually... run his fingers through James' hair? Was he delirious? "So, ah..."
"Hm?" He glanced up, offering an awkward, forced smile. Usually he was much better at looking... pleasant. Or at least marginally happy. He glanced back down and brushed his hand off on his leg absently, unable to will himself to say any more.
"What's your problem?" Shuraiya blurted out before he could help himself - but he wanted to know, if he had to be honest with himself. He stuffed the apple back into his mouth, feeling his cheeks burn - he hadn't meant to sound so... bitchy. "Honestly, you seem like you're forcing yourself to be around me."
He was taken aback by this, brows lofting with surprise, "I'm not, I want to be around you-in fact, that’s all I think about unless I'm with you which is sort of terrifying, because it really shouldn’t be the forefront of what I think... about." Oh god oh god oh god, what the hell was happening, "Is that goddamn apple," He hissed, pushing himself up, seriously kicking himself on the inside, there was something DANGEROUSLY wrong right now, "I've got to go to my room to find out why the hell I'm saying things I really mean, I'll probably be in there for a while-- goddamnit." Oh, did he flee--he fled like his life depended on it.
Shuraiya just stared, gaping at Norrington with cheeks as red as the half-eaten apple in his hand. What Shuraiya wanted to do was get up and chase after him, but he knew he would just fall on his damn face and hurt himself even worse. "James, you bastard!" he yelled after he'd finally found his voice again. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but you come back here, damnit! You fucking talk to me, you're the only person I can actually be comf...or...sonofabitch." He trailed off, and flopped back on the pillows in a huff. "Stupid bastard." He muttered, covering his face with both hands. "I need you."
It seemed as soon as he touched the doorknob to his room he'd turned right back around and found himself back in the doorway, stern faced, but still managing to look more than confused. "...Damnit, I can't leave you." He begrudgingly slumped himself in a seat, "I think this is one of those... community things. I want to talk to you but..." Oh, god fuck damn shit, "I don’t want to... say… too much. About ... my feelings. Or. Anything." He still kept his eyes averted, cheeks darkening some. If there was any God-- ANY God, they would keep this conversation from going anywhere but pleasant.
"Your... feelings?" Shuraiya dropped his hands, shifting uncomfortably to look at James, brows furrowed and lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Damn, you look cute when you blu--" He bit his tongue, cutting himself off sharply. "Shit, ah... community things? What, you mean... on Drama Drama Duck? You know, I really like that one icon you ha-- ...tell me about the community thing." He stuttered, trying to keep a straight face.
"..." His eyes sliiiid to Shuraiya, narrowing a brow, ignoring it for now, "Occasionally the community is effected by a virus that, by God only knows, affects us. Whatever this is, is compelling us to reveal things we normally wouldn’t." he paused for a long moment before blurting out, "What icon?-- No! Don't answer that.... No, do, no! God, I want you to tell me but I dont want you to know that I want to know, god... Shite." This was going to be a long day.
The next thing Shuraiya knew, he was blurting out, "It's the one where you're smirking over your shoulder and I like it because you look, well, kind of devious and like you know something I don't and I don't know I like that idea and... gah, fuck! Fuck, I can't stop." He said all of this in one breath, leaving him gasping for breath and bright red. "I don't know why I'm saying all this, because I've been trying not to come on too strongly because I don't know how to deal with people who I actually don't want to kill - which is just about everybody, by the way - and I don't want to fucking scare you off by wanting to be around you all the time -- Oh, goddamnit, I'm doing it again! -- but I can't help it because I like you and I want to know more about you, but I'm a fucking poor ass bounty hunter and I don't know why the hell you would want anything to do with me." Shuraiya could not bring himself to look at James any longer and decided instead to focus on a spot in the quilt that had come unraveled near his feet. Oh god. He'd fucking done it now, hadn't he?
There was no god and he was blushing like hell. "I'm..." He started, pursing his lips for a moment. God, this was going to sound terrible, "I'm glad... you want to know about me, because I want to know more about you, too," he pressed the tips of his fingers together absently, brows drawing. Oh no, he couldn’t say it, no, fuck, "You're one of the few friends I have that hasn’t..." He waved a hand, frustration rising, he didn't want to say this, "That hasn’t just buggered off and forgotten me and I'm happy I know you." Of course he didn’t sound to happy and his cheeks were nearly red as tomatoes but he was willing to vehemently deny that. Hopefully.
"I'm glad I know you, too," Shuraiya smiled bashfully, he couldn't help grinning, despite being embarrassed beyond belief. He was just relieved to hear that it wasn't a one-sided relationshi--friendship. Wonderful, he couldn't even keep the truth from himself now. Damnit. "You have done so much for me, and I can't ever repay you, but fuck, I wish I could, James." Shuraiya admitted this with such painful honesty that it surprised even him, and he found himself blathering on like an idiot. "You're really admirable, and... just, so polite and well-liked by everybody and even though you have that weird habit of cutting me off while I'm talking, I don't care because you really are a... great friend and man and... everything." Shit, he was really digging himself in deep, wasn't he?
He remained silent for a long moment, mulling over what Shuraiya said and what he really meant to say-- though he was blurting out what he avoided, perhaps if he believed in something enough it'd make it true for him and, "No, I couldn't take anything from you-- I mean, I would, if you offered, and there are some things I'd like, but I don’t want you to feel obli--" ... Bugger fuck shit, "I think I need to go again." Fleefleeflee.
"Would you quit doing that?!" Shuraiya yelled, completely frustrated all over again. What could be so bad that he couldn't tell him? "God damn you, James Norrington, you get back here! You know damn well I can't walk like this!" He hated having his mobility restricted like this, especially under these conditions. It was worse than having to tell the truth and spill damn near everything he'd been bottling up for so long. It was cathartic in a way, but being bedridden sure as hell wasn't.
"I know," He called weakly from the hallway, sliding down the wall outside the door with a visible pout-- at least he could hide -that- from Shuraiya, "That’s why I'm running away," Goddamnit, couldn’t he put it in a nicer way? It wouldn’t be not telling the truth. "I'm quite fine out here, really."
"Bastard," Shuraiya grumbled, picking at a bandage on his hand with a heavy sigh. "I should just make you tell me what you don't want to tell me." He slumped against the propped up pillows and stared up at the ceiling, falling silent when James didn't respond. "...just come back in here, okay? If you're still out there."
There was a moment of debating before he peered around the doorway, eyeing him before giving a defeated sigh, walking on his knees back in, minding to shut the door this time. Maybe that'd encourage him not to run away. Or keep the maids from overhearing. It was really the first one. "I'm sorry," he muttered, indignantly, but he wouldn't have said it unless he meant it.
"I know," Shuraiya sighed, accepting his apology without looking at the other man. "It's just pissing me off that there's obviously something that you can't tell me. And it's driving me crazy because I want to know, but I know you don't want to tell me, and fuck, James." He looked down at him with a frown. "I know you said you... like being around me, but you sure as hell aren't doing that good of a job of proving it."
James said nothing, just observe him, distantly, and after a moment he moved closer, to where he'd sat at first, by his side, a hand rising to take Shuraiya's hand into his own, like before, just... smiling. If he said anything at this point, it'd compromise a lot of the relationship he'd been building with Shuraiya and he didn’t want... he didn't want to lose him.
He curled his fingers around James', his gaze slowly lifting from their joined hands to the other man's face. A tinge of pink still lingered on his cheeks, and his eyes were nervous and pleading. Shuraiya realized, finally, what he was trying to hide from him. At least, he had a good feeling. "I get it," he murmured, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "You don't wanna tell me. 'S fine, I was just pissed that you kept on running off like your life depended on it."
"Well, technically speaking, my life would depend on it, if it were to be general knowledge-- er," Oh well, good on you, James, keepin' your mouth shut. "Never you worry, though, I am fully confident that I can keep this a secret." Well, that was true enough, thinking and doing were different things, and at this point he was doing a shoddy job of actually keeping his secrets, secrets. He knit his brows, "Er, never mind it," and chewed on his lip, eyes looking absently over the quilt.
"Hn," Shuraiya's eyes followed James' gaze and fell onto the same unraveled spot as before, wondering if he had been wrong. It was just as well, he supposed, that he hadn't blurted out that when he said he liked James he meant he liked him. It would have thrown a hell of a wrench into the finer workings of their relationship, that was for sure. Maybe it was just wiser to keep his mouth shut, until this virus thing wore off.
He continued to chew his lip, nearly worrying it red, absently glancing up then to the hand that he held, then back, over his shoulder to the door. He leaned against the bed frame with a heavy sigh, resigned, tilting his forehead against Shuraiya's knuckles. God, he was suddenly tired. Being honest was exhausting. As he shut his eyes, he fondly rubbed his cheek against Shuraiya's hand, pausing to sit back and consider what he'd just done, really, REALLY hoping he was the only one that noticed.
Shuraiya shivered, fingertips just barely grazing James' cheek before he pulled away. It was the bounty hunter's turn to bite his lip, hard - he wanted him to do it again, and to let his calloused fingers linger and trace the sharp line of James' jaw, and touch his lips... He swallowed uncomfortably and focused on the quilt again, cursing under his breath.
God, that touch. It was only for a second, just a minor moment of shared warmth, of an affection he found himself suddenly desperate for. He considered this, briefly, hands working ahead of his mind, gathering Shuraiya's hand, pressing his cheek to the palm, his own hand holding it there, tenderly. Was this going too far? Probably. Part of him vehemently opposed, but he was a slave to what he wanted, right now. To be close, to be touched, alas, he still refrained merely held himself against that warm palm with a heavy sigh.
Shuraiya exhaled shakily, heart pounding as he gently cupped James' cheek, thumb stroking across the vicious blush that still plagued him. He shivered again, astonished by the other man's willingness to be touched - was this the work of the virus? As far as Shuraiya was concerned, he didn't give a damn. He was getting what he wanted, and James wasn't resisting. Shuraiya sat up a little, ignoring the protest of his side and reached out, very carefully stroking the dark curls framing the Commodore's face.
His free hand lifted to catch his wrist, glancing up with a mixed look-- he wasn’t quite sure what this all could entail, nor what the sudden flip flop of his belly actually meant. He lifted from where he sat, nothing said, just brushing his lips lightly, curiously over Shuraiya's, then parting to inhale shakily, telling himself to sit back down and stop forcing himself on the boy but he couldn't, and he realized now how much he was trembling-- perhaps with excitement, nervousness, anticipation, he couldn't tell anymore, "I'm sorry..."
Shuraiya sucked in a breath as their lips touched, the sensation warm and nervous and perfect. "I'm not," He tilted his head up and pressed another, clumsy kiss to that apologetic mouth, feeling Norrington shudder in his grasp. He reached around and gripped the back of James' shirt at the collar, pulling him downwards. Fuck if he was going to let him go now.
James mentally reeled, moaning low and needy into his mouth, inhibitions dropped for now, kissing him hungrily, as if he hadn't been properly kissed in years and part of him would argue that was true. He finally forced the kiss to break, panting unevenly, "I... I don’t want to hurt you."
Shuraiya's mind nearly short-circuited, and he groaned in response, desperately returning the kiss as passionately as he could manage. He nearly whimpered when James pulled away, hating to have it end. "Then keep kissing me." He replied bluntly, mouth brushing against James' as he spoke. "If you stop, I'll go fucking crazy."
Every inch of him wanted to give in and ravage his mouth (and nearly every other part of him) but he couldn’t stop thinking about the wound, his ribs-- he was in no condition for this. James hesitated, lips parting as he pulled away with a regretful groan, "I can't, I..." He gaped as he realized that in some awkward way he was being unfaithful to Jack. They weren’t an item by any means and hell if the pirate was ever faithful to him but... He felt guilty. Immensely guilty-- he was as low as what he hung. As low as what he lusted for. A lecherous arsehole. "I'm sorry," he repeated again and again as he stumbled back from the bed, mumbling hastily as he scrambled for the exit, "I'll go g-get you something to eat."
And just like that, Shuraiya was left alone. Defeated, the boy dropped back on the pillows, dragging his fingers through his hair. His mouth tingled from the kiss, already a memory he was likely supposed to forget - he'd said too much, he was sure. For a brief moment, Shuraiya considered leaving - it was obvious he'd just ruined any chance he had with the man, romantic or otherwise. A twinge of pain in his side reminded him he was more or less marooned here, trapped in this truthful Hell. He couldn't even fucking walk, for God's sake.
His legs felt weak as he slid down the hallway, fingers lifting to brush his lips, pursing them. He had to be honest with himself, he wanted to kiss Shuraiya. He wanted to kiss him and touch him and make him moan his name, do things he'd only heard abou-- No. No. Yes, but no. The maids were disgruntled by his presence in the kitchen, but didn’t shoo him out being he looked more distraught than usual. He disregarded their attempts to talk and eventually he was persuaded to leave, so he loitered in the living room, stared at the hallway and wondered if he could get away with getting to his room without being seen-- he left the door open after all. "M'lord?" The question made him jump and he glanced to one of the help who was offering him a dusty looking pill and a cup of water, "Can y'give this to th' young one?" He must have stared her off, unable to say anything without compromising something else, but now left with the task. James slid to the hall and waited a long moment before putting on a brave face and moving in. Shuraiya was his guest and he was to take care of him and even if he wanted to kiss every inch of his fucking body, he couldn’t. He just... couldn't.
Shuraiya glanced at the door, shocked to see James so soon - honestly, he hadn't expected to see him for the rest of the day, let alone within fifteen minutes. Taking a deep breath, the boy put on a brave face and murmured, "Hey." It was a start, right?
The corners of his lips upturned, smiling faintly, shuffling across the room to offer him the small glass and pill. He chewed his lip lightly, keeping from apologizing for the umpteenth time, or doing anything else he might find the impulse for.
Shuraiya returned the smile, trying in vain to push back thoughts of what those lips should have been doing right now instead of smiling unsteadily at him. He took the offered glass and pill, swallowing it down and draining the glass in one gulp. He sat back with a sigh, turning the cup over in his hands, shaky fingers tracing the rim. "James, I-- I.. fuck. Ireallywannakissyouagain."
James stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say until realizing it was better not to say anything at all. He couldn't risk saying anything about Jack and he couldn’t risk ... god, his lips. His mouth. He took a step back and slumped in the chair he occupied earlier in the night, expression blanking, cold and distant before a frown appeared and his brows drew, probably looking more vulnerable than he would've liked. Honestly, he just looked sad. He absently picked at what seemed like a splinter in his palm, not saying a damn thing.
Shuraiya set the glass on the bedside table, knowing if he fiddled with it any longer he'd break the damn thing. He sighed, the sick feeling in his gut worsening the longer James remained silent. He tried again, voice far more desperate and sad than he'd intended, "I know we're both gonna try and forget this ever happened," Shuraiya paused, searching James' face, his own burning with embarrassment, "And never mention it again, but please, James - I need you."
His heart tugged, it hurt, being spoken to like that. God, what he would give to hear Jack say that... It was wishful thinking to dream of containing the sea and that was what Jack was to him. Wild and free, like the sea. Was it wrong for him to want this as badly as he did? Security, knowing he was wanted, hearing he was needed. His breath caught in his throat and he sat back and turned his gaze to the window, finally murmuring when he gathered the courage, "I don't want to forget it."
Shuraiya followed the other man's gaze out the window, letting out a long, shaky sigh after James finally spoke. Fighting a sudden urge to thank God (or whoever was responsible for this mess), the boy just smiled. Sure, he was battered and badly bruised, and admittedly, he was a broke kid desperate for someplace to belong and maybe, just maybe he had found it here in the Caribbean. Shuraiya cursed himself for being so sentimental and desperate, but he had to be sure. "James? Do... do you want this? With me?"
He wanted Shuraiya and that with him for as long as he could but he was selfish and wanted that free ghost too. He wanted it all. He wanted it and he didn't want to be ashamed or scared of it, but he knew, no matter what, he could not have both. Shuraiya offered a sort of security that Jack didn't. He was adamant (albeit, because of the virus) and he openly wanted him. Jack snuck in like a whisper and was gone before he could blink. Shuraiya and him shared so many similarities and he and Jack so many opposing values. He swallowed thickly. Was the answer really this obvious? And even with it in his face, asking him so sweetly, why wasn't he able to let go of the other? His lips parted and breathed a soft, "I do," stopping before the rest of his thoughts spilled out afterward.
"Okay." Shuraiya sighed softly, happily, and slumped against the pillows. That was all he really wanted, for now. James' affirmation was like medicine - or maybe it was the drugs kicking in, who knew - and the boy relaxed, sighing once more. God, he was tired. Honesty was, honestly, fucking exhausting.
His shoulders dropped with the release of tension. He was relieved that Shuraiya didn't question him further and he found himself smiling, faintly, to himself once more. Maybe it wasn't as bad as he made it... Maybe the answer really was sitting-- laying-- right in front of him. He shifted from his seat and approached the bed, quietly crawling over to lie beside him. After settling with a heavy sigh, James leaned to press a tender kiss to Shuraiya's temple; everything was going to be okay.
This log takes place January 5th.
He coughed, spattering bright blood down the front of his jacket. Shuraiya wiped his chin with a dirty hand - ironically, he only managed to smear more of his own blood across his mouth - and swore bitterly. There was no way he could continue to fight in this condition, nor could he claim sanctuary anywhere - the nearest Marine Base was at least an hour away by boat. By.. boa... His thoughts trailed off for a moment, and the boy could feel himself slipping away. Shuraiya slapped himself, battling the darkness threatening to overtake him. He had to get out of here before he was found.
Shuraiya peeked out of the alleyway, glancing around. It seemed the brutes were dumber than he'd given them credit for - but it didn't matter. He had to get to his ship; it was the only way he could get out of this mess. Half-running and half-limping, Shuraiya headed to the docks, ducking behind dumpsters and into alleys whenever he heard a group of people approaching. Being an injured bounty hunter in a pirate town was like a lamb being put to slaughter. Especially if that bounty hunter was the Pirate Executioner himself.
Shuraiya somehow made it to the docks without being seen and stumbled to his boat, blinking away the unconsciousness with little success. He dropped himself into it and whispered, "P-Port Royal."
Thankfully, the ship seemed to know to land him right at the deserted, rain-slicked docks of Port Royal. Shuraiya dragged himself out of the boat and looked back at it, frowning a little. "Stay here." He muttered weakly before limping up the path towards the city. He could only hope it wouldn't be washed out by the tide - at least it could not be pillaged, he had made sure of that by the Genie before.
Slipping and limping in the rain, Shuraiya followed the streets leading towards the Ambercroft, each step slower and heavier than the last. He clutched his leg, trying to stem the endless flow of blood - but the bullet had bit deep; it would have to be removed. By whom, Shuraiya didn't know or care. He just knew he had to get to James.
The boy made it to the mansion - every window was dark, but he didn't have the energy to shout for help. He dropped to his knees on the wetfront steps and collapsed there, gasping as he finally let unconsciousness take him. He would be safe here.
It seemed the fates were on Shuraiya's side, tonight, as he had collapsed mere minutes before one of the help had decided to finally take out the garbage (the rain had made her decide against it most of the night), only to nearly step on the face of an unconscious, bloody man. Of course, her scream nearly woke half the house. James came, alert, hearing there was someone dead upon his doorstep and nearly had a heart attack when he saw who it was.
All thoughts stopped, rational, irrational, and he ordered sternly that they should call for the doctor immediately. He stepped into the rain, bending to scoop Shuraiya up as gently as possible, cradling the boy against his chest as he brought him inside, and to one of the empty help's rooms. He'd wanted to bring Shuraiya to his own but was convinced otherwise by an equally stubborn maid who suggested she'd be able to take care of his wounds overnight, after the doctor left.
It was already warm and clean, which was quickly ruined by both Norrington and Shuraiya, who were now wet and soaked with Shuraiya's blood. Even after he settled him down, brushed his hair out his eyes and was pushed aside so they may tend to cleaning him up and changing what he wore before the Doctor came, but James would not be removed, watching stone faced and silent, pushing away those who offered to take his shirt before it got stained too badly. Even the Doctor seemed a little horrified at the look of Norrington and Shuraiya, though he didn't ask, merely tended to what of him was bleeding, removing the bullet, bandaging him up tight and offering herbal pain reliefs, and estimating when the boy would be fully functioning.
The rest of the night, James sat at his side, watching like a hawk, leaving only once to finally change, rub dry his now scraggly hair. The maids took the hint and left him be with Shuraiya, checking in to see if he'd woken up yet, or if James needed anything but he merely shook his head, waiting for them to leave before sighing heavily. What had happened? God, imagine if they'd not found him in time and he'd just ... died there. What if he died there! He chewed his lip absently, shifting to lift, dip a wash cloth in some cool water, lowering by the bedside to wipe it tenderly over his forehead. "You look terrible," he murmured quietly, frowning, tracing the cloth over his cheek, tilting his head, "Just wake up, tell me you're okay..."
Shuraiya's lashes fluttered as if in response, his face leaning into the cool cloth with a quiet, shaky breath. He shifted ever so slightly, bandaged fingertips twitching, aching to reach out and touch the owner of the voice. But with every limb in the boy's haggard body weighed down from exhaustion and blood loss, it was too much to ask. Chapped lips moved slowly, forming a name in a weak voice no louder than a whisper. "J-James..."
He faltered as Shuraiya moved, eyes widening some, lips pulling into a relieved smile. It was like every weight that settled on his shoulders had lifted, temporarily, "I'm ... I'm here," he breathed, other hand rising to trace his hair line with trembling fingers, then his cheek, needing to just... touch him. To be aware that this was indeed Shuraiya moving, speaking, and not just some cruel daydream, "Relax, sleep... it's okay."
Soothed by James' touch, Shuraiya smiled some, shoulders sinking against the pillows. Too sore and tired to argue, Shuraiya relaxed with a quiet sigh. "Stay," He murmured, leaning into the gentle fingertips on his cheek, barely awake now. "...please..."
He paused, nodding, but realizing that he probably hadn't caught that, "Of course, Shuraiya," it seemed silly he even had to ask, "I wouldn't dream of leaving. Promise." Nothing more needed to be said, so he said nothing, merely continued to wet his forehead when it seemed a fever may be rising, or update an inquiring maid as she peeked in and as the night continued, sleep finally won and he perched his arms on the bed, head resting there, the rest of him slumped against the frame and floor, unperturbed by the cold or awkward positioning, only wanting to be near Shuraiya, to keep his promise.
Throughout the night, fevered nightmares plagued the boy - nonsensical, painful dreams that made him cry out in agony. He awoke several times, startled to consciousness by his own gasps of pain, only to sink back into the same dream again almost instantly.
James roused dutifully every time Shuraiya did, pressing the cloth to his forehead, murmuring comforting things, gathering up his hand to hold, stroke the back of in hope it'd alleviate his mind. Gods, he must've gone through something like hell if it was affecting him like this-- maybe it was really just years of it, building up. He slumped back down, pressing his cheek to the others bandaged hang, sighing heavily. The sky had started to brighten; he'd have to have someone cancel his appointments today-- there was no way he'd have the energy and... He would've rather stayed with Shuraiya anyway.
James' presence comforted the boy greatly; his troubling dreams eventually subsided and he slept comfortably, deeply, hand grasping the other's in a grip that was firm even in sleep. Shuraiya slept well into midday, finally waking when the sun cut through the storm clouds and lit up the room.
Shuraiya looked around the room groggily, unable to remember how he'd gotten there. He lifted his leg, only to let it drop with a curse as the wound throbbed angrily, as though scolding him for moving. He felt breath across his arm and looked down, shocked to see James kneeling there, dozing and clutching his hand.
He was still a mess too-- hair curling more than usual from being dried so haphazardly, clothes wrinkled, shadows under his eyes from the lack of sleep that he'd started to catch up on-- but with Shuraiya's movement, he jerked awake, blinking sleepily, hand squeezing the others instinctively. His free one rose to rub at his eyes, glancing up. He paused and smiled sleepily, "You're awake."
"Yeah," Shuraiya couldn't help but return the smile, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards him. He looked over the other man, his bedraggled appearance and tired smile made it obvious to the boy - he'd been at his side all night long. Shuraiya began to sit up, but the wound in his side protested with a sharp, digging pain. "F-fuck!" He cursed, his free hand lifting to grasp at his bandaged ribs. He laughed bitterly, pulling his hand away to check for blood, "...not going to try that again."
"Ah, careful," he murmured, hiding a yawn into his shoulder before shifting, "Here," he gently removed his hands, shifting to grab some pillows that'd been set in the corner of the room, in case he wanted to sleep on the floor, bringing them over. He helped Shuraiya lift as gently as possible, angling the pillows so he could sit up comfortably without his side hurting. He settled back tiredly at his side, propping his chin on his arms, "I sent some men to get your ship and dock it properly; it'd nearly got swept out to sea in the storm." No, he wasn't quite ready to inquire as to what happened yet, though he wanted to. In fact, he was finding it harder not to just outright ask, instead, quietly, "You could've died, you know."
"I know," Shuraiya replied matter-of-factly, looking at James with a tired, dubious expression. He leaned back on the pillows, wincing once before settling down, tilting his head in the other man's direction. "That's why I came here."
"You're lucky," he said, averting his eyes, chewing his lip thoughtfully before continuing, "They found you just in time, the doctor said. Been shot, torn up-- Christ, Shuraiya," his brows drew, but he just sighed, eyes sliding shut, "I'm... happy you're," yawn, "okay."
Shuraiya yawned as well, covering his mouth with a bruised palm. "I was overconfident," he said quietly, letting his hand fall to his lap, "And went after a crew I knew I couldn't defeat." He shrugged, closing his eyes for a moment. "I should know better by now than to go after devil fruit users..."
An eye cracked open, then the other, giving the other an incredibly disapproving look. "Are you serious?" He lifted his head, pursing his lips against reprimanding him but really couldn’t help himself, "You're either the bravest or stupidest man I know." After a moment, he perked, "Oh... Are you hungry? I can get you something."
"Thanks," Shuraiya replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Hell, he knew what he'd done was reckless, he didn't need James to reiterate it, it was like rubbing salt into the wound. The mention of food curbed his annoyance and Shuraiya brightened, looking up with a hopeful grin. "Yeah, I'm starving."
"Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes," He pushed himself up eagerly, disappearing into the hallway and after about ten minutes (most of which was spent hassling the kitchen staff, as he was fairly incapable of making anything decent himself), he returned with a simple sandwich, drink, and apple. He set the plate and cup on the nightstand and snagged the last spare pillow to sit upon; having decided that he'd rather not be in Shuraiya's personal bubble while he ate. Felt tactful. "If you want anything else, I'll be happy to get it for you."
"Mmph," Shuraiya nodded, hungrily grabbing the sandwich and stuffing it in his mouth. He finished it off quickly and started on the apple, taking a large, grateful bite out of it. "Thanks, 'ppreciate it." He grinned, chewing on the sweet, crisp fruit happily. He swiped a thumb across his chin, catching a trail of juice and licking it off absently.
"..." He watched this with awkward curiosity, forcibly averting his eyes. There were many things he coveted, he found, but the last thing he expected to covet was a thumb. "Mmhm," he mused in response, taking to staring at his fingernails, a little disturbed to find some dried blood there, "I didn't make the sandwich but you're welcome." Well...where did that come from-- it was up and out of his mouth before he could stop it. Fingernails, right, they were dirty, Stop acting so bizarre, James.
Shuraiya took another rather juicy bite out of the apple, chewing while watching James, who suddenly was absorbed in inspecting his nails. His hair, despite having dried frizzy, was surprisingly curly, and the light from outside made it shine slightly reddish. It looked quite nice, really, and Shuraiya wanted to run his fingers through i-- He chomped on the apple with a frown, dropping the hand he'd lifted - what the hell? Was he honestly about to actually... run his fingers through James' hair? Was he delirious? "So, ah..."
"Hm?" He glanced up, offering an awkward, forced smile. Usually he was much better at looking... pleasant. Or at least marginally happy. He glanced back down and brushed his hand off on his leg absently, unable to will himself to say any more.
"What's your problem?" Shuraiya blurted out before he could help himself - but he wanted to know, if he had to be honest with himself. He stuffed the apple back into his mouth, feeling his cheeks burn - he hadn't meant to sound so... bitchy. "Honestly, you seem like you're forcing yourself to be around me."
He was taken aback by this, brows lofting with surprise, "I'm not, I want to be around you-in fact, that’s all I think about unless I'm with you which is sort of terrifying, because it really shouldn’t be the forefront of what I think... about." Oh god oh god oh god, what the hell was happening, "Is that goddamn apple," He hissed, pushing himself up, seriously kicking himself on the inside, there was something DANGEROUSLY wrong right now, "I've got to go to my room to find out why the hell I'm saying things I really mean, I'll probably be in there for a while-- goddamnit." Oh, did he flee--he fled like his life depended on it.
Shuraiya just stared, gaping at Norrington with cheeks as red as the half-eaten apple in his hand. What Shuraiya wanted to do was get up and chase after him, but he knew he would just fall on his damn face and hurt himself even worse. "James, you bastard!" he yelled after he'd finally found his voice again. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but you come back here, damnit! You fucking talk to me, you're the only person I can actually be comf...or...sonofabitch." He trailed off, and flopped back on the pillows in a huff. "Stupid bastard." He muttered, covering his face with both hands. "I need you."
It seemed as soon as he touched the doorknob to his room he'd turned right back around and found himself back in the doorway, stern faced, but still managing to look more than confused. "...Damnit, I can't leave you." He begrudgingly slumped himself in a seat, "I think this is one of those... community things. I want to talk to you but..." Oh, god fuck damn shit, "I don’t want to... say… too much. About ... my feelings. Or. Anything." He still kept his eyes averted, cheeks darkening some. If there was any God-- ANY God, they would keep this conversation from going anywhere but pleasant.
"Your... feelings?" Shuraiya dropped his hands, shifting uncomfortably to look at James, brows furrowed and lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Damn, you look cute when you blu--" He bit his tongue, cutting himself off sharply. "Shit, ah... community things? What, you mean... on Drama Drama Duck? You know, I really like that one icon you ha-- ...tell me about the community thing." He stuttered, trying to keep a straight face.
"..." His eyes sliiiid to Shuraiya, narrowing a brow, ignoring it for now, "Occasionally the community is effected by a virus that, by God only knows, affects us. Whatever this is, is compelling us to reveal things we normally wouldn’t." he paused for a long moment before blurting out, "What icon?-- No! Don't answer that.... No, do, no! God, I want you to tell me but I dont want you to know that I want to know, god... Shite." This was going to be a long day.
The next thing Shuraiya knew, he was blurting out, "It's the one where you're smirking over your shoulder and I like it because you look, well, kind of devious and like you know something I don't and I don't know I like that idea and... gah, fuck! Fuck, I can't stop." He said all of this in one breath, leaving him gasping for breath and bright red. "I don't know why I'm saying all this, because I've been trying not to come on too strongly because I don't know how to deal with people who I actually don't want to kill - which is just about everybody, by the way - and I don't want to fucking scare you off by wanting to be around you all the time -- Oh, goddamnit, I'm doing it again! -- but I can't help it because I like you and I want to know more about you, but I'm a fucking poor ass bounty hunter and I don't know why the hell you would want anything to do with me." Shuraiya could not bring himself to look at James any longer and decided instead to focus on a spot in the quilt that had come unraveled near his feet. Oh god. He'd fucking done it now, hadn't he?
There was no god and he was blushing like hell. "I'm..." He started, pursing his lips for a moment. God, this was going to sound terrible, "I'm glad... you want to know about me, because I want to know more about you, too," he pressed the tips of his fingers together absently, brows drawing. Oh no, he couldn’t say it, no, fuck, "You're one of the few friends I have that hasn’t..." He waved a hand, frustration rising, he didn't want to say this, "That hasn’t just buggered off and forgotten me and I'm happy I know you." Of course he didn’t sound to happy and his cheeks were nearly red as tomatoes but he was willing to vehemently deny that. Hopefully.
"I'm glad I know you, too," Shuraiya smiled bashfully, he couldn't help grinning, despite being embarrassed beyond belief. He was just relieved to hear that it wasn't a one-sided relationshi--friendship. Wonderful, he couldn't even keep the truth from himself now. Damnit. "You have done so much for me, and I can't ever repay you, but fuck, I wish I could, James." Shuraiya admitted this with such painful honesty that it surprised even him, and he found himself blathering on like an idiot. "You're really admirable, and... just, so polite and well-liked by everybody and even though you have that weird habit of cutting me off while I'm talking, I don't care because you really are a... great friend and man and... everything." Shit, he was really digging himself in deep, wasn't he?
He remained silent for a long moment, mulling over what Shuraiya said and what he really meant to say-- though he was blurting out what he avoided, perhaps if he believed in something enough it'd make it true for him and, "No, I couldn't take anything from you-- I mean, I would, if you offered, and there are some things I'd like, but I don’t want you to feel obli--" ... Bugger fuck shit, "I think I need to go again." Fleefleeflee.
"Would you quit doing that?!" Shuraiya yelled, completely frustrated all over again. What could be so bad that he couldn't tell him? "God damn you, James Norrington, you get back here! You know damn well I can't walk like this!" He hated having his mobility restricted like this, especially under these conditions. It was worse than having to tell the truth and spill damn near everything he'd been bottling up for so long. It was cathartic in a way, but being bedridden sure as hell wasn't.
"I know," He called weakly from the hallway, sliding down the wall outside the door with a visible pout-- at least he could hide -that- from Shuraiya, "That’s why I'm running away," Goddamnit, couldn’t he put it in a nicer way? It wouldn’t be not telling the truth. "I'm quite fine out here, really."
"Bastard," Shuraiya grumbled, picking at a bandage on his hand with a heavy sigh. "I should just make you tell me what you don't want to tell me." He slumped against the propped up pillows and stared up at the ceiling, falling silent when James didn't respond. "...just come back in here, okay? If you're still out there."
There was a moment of debating before he peered around the doorway, eyeing him before giving a defeated sigh, walking on his knees back in, minding to shut the door this time. Maybe that'd encourage him not to run away. Or keep the maids from overhearing. It was really the first one. "I'm sorry," he muttered, indignantly, but he wouldn't have said it unless he meant it.
"I know," Shuraiya sighed, accepting his apology without looking at the other man. "It's just pissing me off that there's obviously something that you can't tell me. And it's driving me crazy because I want to know, but I know you don't want to tell me, and fuck, James." He looked down at him with a frown. "I know you said you... like being around me, but you sure as hell aren't doing that good of a job of proving it."
James said nothing, just observe him, distantly, and after a moment he moved closer, to where he'd sat at first, by his side, a hand rising to take Shuraiya's hand into his own, like before, just... smiling. If he said anything at this point, it'd compromise a lot of the relationship he'd been building with Shuraiya and he didn’t want... he didn't want to lose him.
He curled his fingers around James', his gaze slowly lifting from their joined hands to the other man's face. A tinge of pink still lingered on his cheeks, and his eyes were nervous and pleading. Shuraiya realized, finally, what he was trying to hide from him. At least, he had a good feeling. "I get it," he murmured, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "You don't wanna tell me. 'S fine, I was just pissed that you kept on running off like your life depended on it."
"Well, technically speaking, my life would depend on it, if it were to be general knowledge-- er," Oh well, good on you, James, keepin' your mouth shut. "Never you worry, though, I am fully confident that I can keep this a secret." Well, that was true enough, thinking and doing were different things, and at this point he was doing a shoddy job of actually keeping his secrets, secrets. He knit his brows, "Er, never mind it," and chewed on his lip, eyes looking absently over the quilt.
"Hn," Shuraiya's eyes followed James' gaze and fell onto the same unraveled spot as before, wondering if he had been wrong. It was just as well, he supposed, that he hadn't blurted out that when he said he liked James he meant he liked him. It would have thrown a hell of a wrench into the finer workings of their relationship, that was for sure. Maybe it was just wiser to keep his mouth shut, until this virus thing wore off.
He continued to chew his lip, nearly worrying it red, absently glancing up then to the hand that he held, then back, over his shoulder to the door. He leaned against the bed frame with a heavy sigh, resigned, tilting his forehead against Shuraiya's knuckles. God, he was suddenly tired. Being honest was exhausting. As he shut his eyes, he fondly rubbed his cheek against Shuraiya's hand, pausing to sit back and consider what he'd just done, really, REALLY hoping he was the only one that noticed.
Shuraiya shivered, fingertips just barely grazing James' cheek before he pulled away. It was the bounty hunter's turn to bite his lip, hard - he wanted him to do it again, and to let his calloused fingers linger and trace the sharp line of James' jaw, and touch his lips... He swallowed uncomfortably and focused on the quilt again, cursing under his breath.
God, that touch. It was only for a second, just a minor moment of shared warmth, of an affection he found himself suddenly desperate for. He considered this, briefly, hands working ahead of his mind, gathering Shuraiya's hand, pressing his cheek to the palm, his own hand holding it there, tenderly. Was this going too far? Probably. Part of him vehemently opposed, but he was a slave to what he wanted, right now. To be close, to be touched, alas, he still refrained merely held himself against that warm palm with a heavy sigh.
Shuraiya exhaled shakily, heart pounding as he gently cupped James' cheek, thumb stroking across the vicious blush that still plagued him. He shivered again, astonished by the other man's willingness to be touched - was this the work of the virus? As far as Shuraiya was concerned, he didn't give a damn. He was getting what he wanted, and James wasn't resisting. Shuraiya sat up a little, ignoring the protest of his side and reached out, very carefully stroking the dark curls framing the Commodore's face.
His free hand lifted to catch his wrist, glancing up with a mixed look-- he wasn’t quite sure what this all could entail, nor what the sudden flip flop of his belly actually meant. He lifted from where he sat, nothing said, just brushing his lips lightly, curiously over Shuraiya's, then parting to inhale shakily, telling himself to sit back down and stop forcing himself on the boy but he couldn't, and he realized now how much he was trembling-- perhaps with excitement, nervousness, anticipation, he couldn't tell anymore, "I'm sorry..."
Shuraiya sucked in a breath as their lips touched, the sensation warm and nervous and perfect. "I'm not," He tilted his head up and pressed another, clumsy kiss to that apologetic mouth, feeling Norrington shudder in his grasp. He reached around and gripped the back of James' shirt at the collar, pulling him downwards. Fuck if he was going to let him go now.
James mentally reeled, moaning low and needy into his mouth, inhibitions dropped for now, kissing him hungrily, as if he hadn't been properly kissed in years and part of him would argue that was true. He finally forced the kiss to break, panting unevenly, "I... I don’t want to hurt you."
Shuraiya's mind nearly short-circuited, and he groaned in response, desperately returning the kiss as passionately as he could manage. He nearly whimpered when James pulled away, hating to have it end. "Then keep kissing me." He replied bluntly, mouth brushing against James' as he spoke. "If you stop, I'll go fucking crazy."
Every inch of him wanted to give in and ravage his mouth (and nearly every other part of him) but he couldn’t stop thinking about the wound, his ribs-- he was in no condition for this. James hesitated, lips parting as he pulled away with a regretful groan, "I can't, I..." He gaped as he realized that in some awkward way he was being unfaithful to Jack. They weren’t an item by any means and hell if the pirate was ever faithful to him but... He felt guilty. Immensely guilty-- he was as low as what he hung. As low as what he lusted for. A lecherous arsehole. "I'm sorry," he repeated again and again as he stumbled back from the bed, mumbling hastily as he scrambled for the exit, "I'll go g-get you something to eat."
And just like that, Shuraiya was left alone. Defeated, the boy dropped back on the pillows, dragging his fingers through his hair. His mouth tingled from the kiss, already a memory he was likely supposed to forget - he'd said too much, he was sure. For a brief moment, Shuraiya considered leaving - it was obvious he'd just ruined any chance he had with the man, romantic or otherwise. A twinge of pain in his side reminded him he was more or less marooned here, trapped in this truthful Hell. He couldn't even fucking walk, for God's sake.
His legs felt weak as he slid down the hallway, fingers lifting to brush his lips, pursing them. He had to be honest with himself, he wanted to kiss Shuraiya. He wanted to kiss him and touch him and make him moan his name, do things he'd only heard abou-- No. No. Yes, but no. The maids were disgruntled by his presence in the kitchen, but didn’t shoo him out being he looked more distraught than usual. He disregarded their attempts to talk and eventually he was persuaded to leave, so he loitered in the living room, stared at the hallway and wondered if he could get away with getting to his room without being seen-- he left the door open after all. "M'lord?" The question made him jump and he glanced to one of the help who was offering him a dusty looking pill and a cup of water, "Can y'give this to th' young one?" He must have stared her off, unable to say anything without compromising something else, but now left with the task. James slid to the hall and waited a long moment before putting on a brave face and moving in. Shuraiya was his guest and he was to take care of him and even if he wanted to kiss every inch of his fucking body, he couldn’t. He just... couldn't.
Shuraiya glanced at the door, shocked to see James so soon - honestly, he hadn't expected to see him for the rest of the day, let alone within fifteen minutes. Taking a deep breath, the boy put on a brave face and murmured, "Hey." It was a start, right?
The corners of his lips upturned, smiling faintly, shuffling across the room to offer him the small glass and pill. He chewed his lip lightly, keeping from apologizing for the umpteenth time, or doing anything else he might find the impulse for.
Shuraiya returned the smile, trying in vain to push back thoughts of what those lips should have been doing right now instead of smiling unsteadily at him. He took the offered glass and pill, swallowing it down and draining the glass in one gulp. He sat back with a sigh, turning the cup over in his hands, shaky fingers tracing the rim. "James, I-- I.. fuck. Ireallywannakissyouagain."
James stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say until realizing it was better not to say anything at all. He couldn't risk saying anything about Jack and he couldn’t risk ... god, his lips. His mouth. He took a step back and slumped in the chair he occupied earlier in the night, expression blanking, cold and distant before a frown appeared and his brows drew, probably looking more vulnerable than he would've liked. Honestly, he just looked sad. He absently picked at what seemed like a splinter in his palm, not saying a damn thing.
Shuraiya set the glass on the bedside table, knowing if he fiddled with it any longer he'd break the damn thing. He sighed, the sick feeling in his gut worsening the longer James remained silent. He tried again, voice far more desperate and sad than he'd intended, "I know we're both gonna try and forget this ever happened," Shuraiya paused, searching James' face, his own burning with embarrassment, "And never mention it again, but please, James - I need you."
His heart tugged, it hurt, being spoken to like that. God, what he would give to hear Jack say that... It was wishful thinking to dream of containing the sea and that was what Jack was to him. Wild and free, like the sea. Was it wrong for him to want this as badly as he did? Security, knowing he was wanted, hearing he was needed. His breath caught in his throat and he sat back and turned his gaze to the window, finally murmuring when he gathered the courage, "I don't want to forget it."
Shuraiya followed the other man's gaze out the window, letting out a long, shaky sigh after James finally spoke. Fighting a sudden urge to thank God (or whoever was responsible for this mess), the boy just smiled. Sure, he was battered and badly bruised, and admittedly, he was a broke kid desperate for someplace to belong and maybe, just maybe he had found it here in the Caribbean. Shuraiya cursed himself for being so sentimental and desperate, but he had to be sure. "James? Do... do you want this? With me?"
He wanted Shuraiya and that with him for as long as he could but he was selfish and wanted that free ghost too. He wanted it all. He wanted it and he didn't want to be ashamed or scared of it, but he knew, no matter what, he could not have both. Shuraiya offered a sort of security that Jack didn't. He was adamant (albeit, because of the virus) and he openly wanted him. Jack snuck in like a whisper and was gone before he could blink. Shuraiya and him shared so many similarities and he and Jack so many opposing values. He swallowed thickly. Was the answer really this obvious? And even with it in his face, asking him so sweetly, why wasn't he able to let go of the other? His lips parted and breathed a soft, "I do," stopping before the rest of his thoughts spilled out afterward.
"Okay." Shuraiya sighed softly, happily, and slumped against the pillows. That was all he really wanted, for now. James' affirmation was like medicine - or maybe it was the drugs kicking in, who knew - and the boy relaxed, sighing once more. God, he was tired. Honesty was, honestly, fucking exhausting.
His shoulders dropped with the release of tension. He was relieved that Shuraiya didn't question him further and he found himself smiling, faintly, to himself once more. Maybe it wasn't as bad as he made it... Maybe the answer really was sitting-- laying-- right in front of him. He shifted from his seat and approached the bed, quietly crawling over to lie beside him. After settling with a heavy sigh, James leaned to press a tender kiss to Shuraiya's temple; everything was going to be okay.
This log takes place January 5th.