Parallel Lines
Title: Parallel Lines
Pairing: James/Will/Jack(in every possible combination);Will/Mary(OC)~or Will/Liz (if you swing that way)
Rating: hard NC-17
Words: 6,758
Summary: "Between you and Jack." It couldn't have been more obvious. You wanted him. And, as usual, I couldn't deny your wish.
Disclaimer: I don't own PotC or the characters used. And Mary is justin_barrette 's sweet angel.
Parallel Lines
I’m sitting in my office at night. The room is only illuminated by the pale moonlight. The papers from my table have unceremoniously been shoved to the floor to make place for two glasses and the open bottle. Rum. I have despised this liquid for so long that I almost feel guilty for desiring the burning hotness so much even now, after becoming used to excessive amounts of it. I try to tell myself that the only purpose of having rum ready is that he won’t have anything else, but I have learned to see through my own lies over the years. The truth is I need the vile drink’s strength to cope with him - to cope with all of this.
I know when he arrives even before I hear his silent steps on the balcony and the soft sound of the glass door sliding open. It’s so like him to climb through the window even though I have made arrangements to leave the back door open for him. I don’t say anything just pour him a drink and wordlessly drain my own glass as he sits down on the chair on the opposite side of the table. He is looking at his glass for a long time but doesn’t reach for it. If someone had told me when I met him that one day he would be the sober one while I’m drunk out of my wits, I would never have believed it. Then again, I wouldn’t have believed either that one day I would sit with him at the same table without thinking of shooting him on the spot.
I have hated him with passion from the very first moment and he felt the same about me, I know. We were complete opposites. I was representing duty, loyalty and order. He was obstinate, free and rebellious. I was honour. He was selfish desire. I was safety. He was danger. That’s why you were so attracted to him. You just couldn’t resist the wild fire in his eyes, the challenge in that cocky smile. You wanted him and you always got what you wanted. After all, no one could resist your boyish charm, your serious, devoted eyes, your lustful innocence. I could never solve the mystery of your power, how you could conquer everybody you met. Maybe it was your innocence, that strange purity that you could preserve no matter how many women you have promised undying love to for a taste of their willing bodies, no matter how many cocks you have fucked in complete abandon.
Maybe that was what made you dangerous. They underestimated you. They all thought you were an innocent boy, just waiting to be corrupted. Oh, the delicious surprised scream of the women at realizing just how talented you were at giving and taking pleasure and the silent shock of the men as you fucked yourself on them like a needy whore. He was no exception. I can still remember the predatory look on his face as he tasted your lean, muscular body for the first time. He firmly believed he would be in charge and would show you pleasures you had not yet tasted. And you played along, as usual. The weak sighs, the trembling hand buried deep in the other’s hair, the arching back at the first gentle intrusion of a careful finger - they were all that of a virgin tasting the forbidden fruit for the first time.
But then the moment came when you lost control and needed it fast and hard. I was always waiting for this moment. The moment when you pushed yourself up and with one powerful movement flipped your partner on the back and took over control. I enjoyed it more when you were with men, partly because I couldn’t stand the high-pitched cries of the women during an intense orgasm since they drowned your delicious moans, and partly because nothing could compare to the sight of a hard, throbbing prick sliding into your perfect ass. That moment defeated my willpower every time and made me slide my hand inside my breeches and close it around my aching hardness. You knew exactly the effect the movements of your hips had on me, I know, because every time you looked to where you knew I’d be standing behind a hidden door and smiled disarmingly. That smile always sent me over the edge with a last violent jerk of my hips. I still don’t know how, but you always knew when I came, you were waiting for it before you closed your eyes, threw your head back and rode yourself to completion.
The virgin has been for your partner, the predator for me, but your orgasm was always for you, no games just raw lust. After that I usually shed my clothes and slid into a hot bath, waiting for you to join me once you have sent away your conquest for the night.
It had been like this for years, ever since your 16th birthday. You had been living at my house since we arrived in Port Royal. You were a shy, orphaned boy and I knew I would never have a son of my own, deep down I think I had always known. It seemed so easy. You looked up to me and were eager to learn and I was happy to come home to you from our long hunts for pirates. It was a peaceful time and I hoped it would never change.
But of course it did. On the night of your 16th birthday.
*
You were gone before dawn and left me worrying over you all day. It was late at night and I was already in bed when you arrived. Of course I couldn’t sleep, not knowing where you were, but I didn’t want you to know how worried I had been so I forced myself to go to bed. I was still sulking under the sheets when you silently came into my room and slid under the covers embracing be from behind just like every time you had done something wrong and tried to appease me.
“Jamie.” You whispered against my neck. Your soft breath tickled my skin slightly and I could feel your wide grin against me. You knew I couldn’t resist you when you were like that no matter how much I tried to stay angry. “I found work.” You stated proudly.
I was pleasantly surprised. I had been telling you to think about your future, I wasn’t a rich man after all. I could support you while I was around, but the Navy has never been the safest job of all, one could never know which storm or pirate attack would be the last. So I was glad that you have apparently found a secure income. But I was also a bit disappointed that you hadn’t discussed your decision with me. I turned around to look into your shining eyes.
“Come on, tell me.” I said poking you in the rib slightly and made you giggle.
“I’ll be a blacksmith.” I think I stared.
“Why on Earth would you want to do that?” Honestly, with the education I insisted you had, I had thought you’d make more out of your life. But you just shrugged and said:
“That’s what I want to do.” And that was it. I knew I couldn’t convince you otherwise. You always got what you wanted.
“Look, I don’t want to go back to England to find a well paying job, and what could I find here? I wouldn’t want to join the Navy and be sent off to God knows where to fight pirates. I want to be here whenever you come home from sea. I don’t want to leave you. Ever.”
You had always known how to win me for your ideas. I didn’t say another word on the matter and you knew you had my support. I could see it in your wide smile as you cuddled against me. We were silent for a long time and I though you had already fallen sleep when you finally spoke silently.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t here, Jamie. I know you were looking forward to today.”
“I had an amazing gift prepared for you.” I said with a fake pout on my face.
“Did it taste as bad as I think it did?”
“Absolutely terrible. Molly made me promise never to cook again again, I think it’s for the best.” I smiled softly, actually she had banned me from even entering her kitchen ever again. “How did you know I wanted to cook for you?”
“I know you too well, Jamie.” you smiled mysteriously against my collarbone while your hand was absently playing with the soft hair on my chest.
Something in your voice made me shudder but I tried not to think about it much. It would be a lie to say I hadn’t noticed that you had grown up to be a handsome young man, but I had promised myself never to look at you even remotely as a potential lover. I couldn’t bear the thought of pushing you into something you didn’t want and only agreed to out of gratitude. I mostly succeeded in keeping my growing attraction at bay but at moments like this, when you sneaked into my bed in the middle of the night, I was longing for what I had learned to live without and what I forced myself not to expect from you. We were silent for a long time again. For some reason neither of us could sleep. It was as if we were waiting for something but didn’t know what.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you.” I finally whispered breaking the awkward silence.
“It’s ok.”, was all you said at first but after a while you silently added “You can give me something else.”
I wanted to ask what but before I could say a word I felt your soft lips on my skin. You were leaving gentle kisses on my chest and neck. First I was so surprised that I couldn’t move but when you reached my jaw and wanted to kiss me on the lips I stopped you by putting a firm hand on your chest.
“What are you doing?” I could keep the trembling out of my voice. Your only answer was the soft brush of your lips against mine. “Will, no, I…” my mind was firing reasons at me why this could never happen but I never even got to finish that first sentence because you suddenly bit down on my lips so hard I was sure you’d draw blood.
“Shut up, Jamie.” You captured my lips again in a deep, demanding kiss and all I could do was to follow your lead. By the time you pulled away we were both breathing heavily and I could hardly think, just kept staring at your ecstatic grin.
“I want you to be my first, Jamie” you whispered and firmly closed your strong hand around my already hard cock, making me cry out loud. Faintly worrying about Molly hearing us was all I could manage but it merely took another slight brush of lips and a silent whisper to make me forget everything.
“I want you…”
And that was that. You always got what you wanted.
I will never forget that night. Your soft moans were like music to my ears. Like the song of sirens, and I knew you’d charm me into staying with you for ever. Your beautiful, lean body was moving under me like a new, virginal ship on her first adventure at sea - uncertain, but eager for more. I was slightly nervous at first, it had been so long since I had touched anybody like this but your moans and gasps soon convinced me that I needn’t worry. I can still remember every second as if it had been yesterday, I can still feel the intensity of your chocolate brown eyes, the need in your every movement, the extent of my love for you. At least that has never changed, and never will.
You fell asleep in my arms afterwards but I couldn’t find peace. I was lying awake for a long time, listening to your even breathing, watching your innocent, sated smile and I couldn’t help but feel guilty for corrupting your innocence.
I must have fallen asleep some time later, because the next thing I knew was being woken up by an incredibly intense orgasm washing over me. Still panting wildly I lifted the sheet and saw you, eyes shining, lips in a wicked smile around my member. I just lay there as if frozen, completely speechless from shock as you let my cock slip out of your mouth and licking off some of the come from the corner of your mouth crawled up to me.
“So? How was I?” you asked with a proud grin.
After that, somehow I couldn’t really feel guilty anymore about corrupting you.
*
The first time I heard you come home with a woman it felt like dying. It took all my power to stop myself from bursting into the room and brutally murder you both or to break down and beg you to stay with me - I’m not sure which. You were cruel or simply oblivious enough to take her into your old room, the one you had been using before our first night together, the one that was next to mine. You can’t imagine the torture of hearing every little gasp, every creak of the bed, and I couldn’t leave, no matter how hard I tried.
Hours later, after you had finished and had brought her home, you came to me. You slid into my bed just like that first night, embraced me from behind and kissed my exposed neck. And no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t push you away. I turned around and buried my face in the crook of your neck, desperately fighting back angry tears. You smelled of soap. You must have had the decency to wash at least but I could still smell the scent of sex and cheap perfume on your skin.
It took me almost a year to come to terms with the arrangement you seemed to have made without asking me. It was hard to realize I wasn’t enough, even harder that not being enough was not the same as not being needed. You did need me, the safety I gave you. Not financial, but emotional. I was the safe rock in your life, always had been, ever since we met. You did love me. I know. But you needed the excitement of new conquests, of the hunt where you pretended to be the prey.
Some you only kept for a night, some never even set foot in the house, others were allowed to come for one or two weeks, but no one lasted longer than a fortnight. You never introduced any of them to me. They didn’t matter. All they had in common was that they could make themselves believe they owned your body for a couple of hours and they never saw how you held them in your power. Some even fell in love with you. I couldn’t really blame them. But it didn’t matter. They all had to go sooner or later. Some cried - not only women -, some cursed, some pretended not to care.
But there was one man who couldn’t let you go. When you told him it was just a meaningless fuck - my words, not yours, but still - well, he flipped out and started strangling you. A single bullet from my pistol through his head was enough to get him quiet. I don’t think I could let go of you for hours and never left your side for weeks, imagining that such a bastard could have killed you if I hadn’t been close enough was too much to bear. So I decided to transform your room a bit. I let a second wall be built parallel to the one separating our rooms with a small hole on your side so that I could watch you through the eyes of an old painting. Cliché, I know, but effective. I was always watching. No matter who you were with, I was watching and I couldn’t admit even to myself that it wasn’t only to ensure your safety.
And you enjoyed it. It excited you to know that I was so addicted to you that I could do something I despised so much. I hated myself for leaning heavily against the wall, pressing my eyes closer to the hole so that I could see you better. I hated myself for not being able to resist the urge to bring myself to completion at the sight of you in someone else’s arms. I have promised myself countless times to stop, to find some hidden strength inside me to conquer my addiction, but there was no antidote to the painful craving you had awoken in me.
And you knew it. You knew exactly I would give anything you asked for. You never asked for much, though. I think it was enough for you to know you could. You only ever used your power when it came to sex. You loved to drive me wild with need before you gave me what I needed. But you always gave me what I needed even if I didn’t want it. I wanted to stay strong and resist the urge of touching myself while watching you with them, no matter how much my body begged to be pleasured. But you knew how to push me enough to accept what I needed. You knew what movements made my resistance melt away. And you wouldn’t come before you were sure I had had my release. I’m not sure if I loved or hated you for this sweet torture.
And every night, after your partner for the night had left, you came over to our shared room and slid into the bath tub beside me where I could wash their scent off you before I made love to you.
But then he came.
*
Dark, wild, seductive, untameable - the perfect prey for you. I should have realized the first time I met him that you’d want him, but my hatred for what he represented blinded my judgement. When you left with him to rescue her, I thought it was just your craving for adventure that drove you out to sea. Little did I realize it was much more about him and getting closer to him than anything else. It was only when you saved him from the gallows that I felt the usual burning jealousy poisoning the blood in my veins.
“Between you and Jack.”
It couldn’t have been more obvious. You wanted him and, as usual, I couldn’t deny your wish. He escaped, I made a great show of trying to hunt him down, sending all my men off to chase him across the seven seas, but in fact I was only leading them away from the place where I knew he’d be - back in Port Royal, in my house, in your bed, inside you.
I had no doubts that he would come back, no one could resist you. Of course he thought it was the other way round. He was convinced you had fallen for his charm. It was all written on his face, in his smug grin on that first night you spent together. And you played your part well. You were raw desire cloaked in virginal insecurity. Every light touch of those dirty fingers that I wanted to bat away made you sigh and tremble as you were being led to supposedly unknown, sinful places.
And the prey thought he was the predator.
Not for long, though. Not much after he carefully pushed inside you, you pulled him into a fierce kiss and flipped him on his back just like all the others. You held his arms over his head and licked his neck teasingly as you slowly rode his cock. I caught you glancing at the hidden door behind which I was standing with one hand down my breeches, achingly hard and surprised I could still hold on. Then you straightened up, let his hand glide to your hard, leaking prick and moaned loudly into the silence of the hot room.
“Oh, God, fuck me.”
I lost it then and there and came with a silent gasp at the same time as he did with a ferocious growl, bringing you to your climax just a few seconds later. It took me quite some time to gather enough strength to go back to my room, shed my clothes and slide into the hot water. I was waiting for you for a long time but you didn’t come. I started to get worried. What if he forced you to go with him? What if he kidnapped you? I admit, rational thinking has never been my strength when I was worried. I quickly got out of the bath, grabbed a towel and looked through the hole on your wall. Relief washed over me when I saw you on the large bed but it soon turned into confusion when I realized you were curled up to him as if you never wanted to let go again. This was strange, you usually got rid of you partners very quickly; they were never allowed to stay for the night.
And then it hit me. Hard.
You wanted to keep him.
You wanted him to be around for a long time. Maybe not for ever but at least months or even years. I knew you kept him in your bed because you wanted me to come over and accept his presence. You wanted him to be more than just a casual fuck. You wanted to include him in our life. In our love.
It hurt.
I had learned to cope with sharing your body but I was not sure I could ever get used to having to share your heart. That moment I wanted to kill him. No, not to bring justice and hang him as a pirate but strangle him with my own bare hands. But I knew I could never hurt you that way, I had to give you what you wanted.
I thought of getting dressed but then I decided against it. I silently opened the hidden door and stepped into your room, wearing nothing but a towel around my waist, droplets of water still clinging to my skin. He must have been completely charmed by your chocolate brown orbs and boyish smile because he didn’t even hear me until I spoke. I can’t remember what I said but it made him quickly reach for his pistol. I just laughed and went over to your side of the bed to pull you into a passionate kiss. You were kissing back eagerly and I was watching him the whole time. I’ll never forget the look on his face. It made me grin into the kiss.
He was naked. The usual cocky, grinning, always confident and elusive pirate was melting away in front of my eyes. I had always known you were good, but this was still unexpected. You achieved without trying what none other could. You had defeated the legend. You put him behind the bars of his love - the love he had mistaken for desire, and it was too late now to discover his mistake. It was intoxicating to finally find his weak spot, the one that I could use to outwit him. Too bad his weakness was mine too and I could not use it against him. Too bad I couldn’t hurt him without hurting you.
Why him? That was what I couldn’t understand. Why did you choose him with his dirty hands, drunken steps and infuriating manner? I kept repeating this question in my mind as I deepened the kiss and pulled you into my lap. You were only too happy to grind wildly against my groin and kept making delicious moaning sounds as I let my hands slide over your eager body. Was I like a dog that pisses on every tree to mark his territory? I suppose I was. Little did I expect you to reach behind your back to grip his cock and massage it back to life again. It made me furious and only more eager to please you.
I quickly removed my towel and lifted you over my hard cock. I will never forget the mixture of raw lust and tender love in your brown eyes and the jealous fury masked as mischievous challenge in his as I slid into your tight hole with one deliberate thrust that made you throw your head back and cry out in wanton desire. He used the golden opportunity and claimed your lips in a violent kiss, his eyes directed at me, burning with loathing and hatred. I closed my hand around your weeping prick but my hand was batted away by his and I couldn’t claim back my rightful place. He pressed himself flush against your back and I could feel his knees against mine as he was thrusting in your needy hand.
The victorious look in his dark eyes made me thrust into you harder, aiming for that spot that would convince you who you really belonged to. And when your unearthly cry told me I had found it, I slipped my hand on the nape of your neck and stole your wicked lips away from him again, pushing my greedy tongue in your mouth. My sense of victory didn’t last long, though, because he bit down on your shoulder, claiming you, marking you in a way on I should ever have been allowed to. But you didn’t protest just moaned deeply into my mouth and started rocking even harder against me. I could feel the change in pace in every fibre of my being as you started fucking yourself on my cock in earnest.
Your moans against my lips gained strength and you must have increased the pressure on his prick because I could feel his rough hand sliding up and down your length faster and faster. I tried to drown his sounds of pleasure with my loud moans and I was sure you could feel the wild beating of my heart against your firm, sweaty chest. You were the first to lose control after a particularly hard thrust against that spot inside you and I was drowning in the tightening grip of your body around me and the familiar wetness of your come on my chest.
I couldn’t hold on any longer and released into your willing body with one loud scream into the hot, wet cavern of your mouth. I was only faintly aware of his deep grown and of his come sliding down your back onto my knees as I clung to you desperately while trying to recover from the intensity of my orgasm. For a long time only our ragged breathing broke the silence of the room but then you spoke in a silent whisper:
“I love you.” Your head was resting on his shoulder and you pulled me close for another kiss before you added: “Both of you.”
I looked in his eyes that were only a couple of inches away. I could see myself in them and the mixture of pain and love that I felt in my own heart too. We fell asleep together that night and many nights afterwards. It was always like this. A silent battle of who could please you more with lips, hands, cock or hole. We both hoped you would finally choose between us and end this forced, uneasy truce. We never talked about our hopes and seemingly got along just fine.
I gritted my teeth and offered him full pardon and a commission as privateer. He accepted and even smiled over the corpse of his freedom. All for you. We both loved you. At it was Heaven. But you loved us both. And it was Hell. But you needed this. You needed the rock I was and the sea he represented. You only felt happy trapped in the violent torrents where the sea clashed at sharp rocks.
Once our fierce fight over control got out of hand and he scratched your back just a little too hard. Of course it turned into a huge argument between the two of us and by the time we calmed down you were gone. You spent the whole week at her house and wouldn’t even talk to us. We managed to lure you back into our bed with the promise of peace but we soon had to realize we couldn’t keep our word, so an alternative arrangement was made. You would spend one night with me, the next with him.
It seemed to work for a while but we still couldn’t be left in the same room for more than a minute without getting in a fight. I could see how it tortured you that the two men you loved so much could bear so much hatred against each other. And deep down we knew that this unholy trinity couldn’t last. It had to die a miserable death. We tried to prolong its death artificially but we were fighting a lost battle. The only question was who would leave the shared bed. He was convinced of his triumph, and I trusted your love for me to be stronger. You surprised us both.
It was a hot night when it all came to an ugly end. I had been away on a mission for three weeks and was dying to feel you near me, to be buried deep inside your body. It was supposed to be his night with you but I didn’t care. He had had you all for himself for three weeks, after all. So after a well deserved bath I entered your room with a smile on my face and hope in my heart. You were in my arms immediately, kissing me, telling me how much you had missed me. But I should have known better than to think he would just let me win.
“My night.”
“You had 21 nights in a row.”
“20. You shouldn’t be here tonight. Savvy?”
“This is my house.”
“You have no right.”
“Stop it! Both of you!”
“Right? Since when do pirates care about right?”
“Privateer.”
“Thanks to me.”
“Thanks to Will.”
“Thanks to your prick.”
“Well deserved.”
The two blows came almost at the same time and we couldn’t have told who got slapped first. But it silenced us immediately. We knew we had crossed a line again and deep down we felt it was over. We were trembling in the light of your fury like scared schoolboys. The legendary former pirate and the youngest admiral of all times silently begging for a blacksmith’s mercy. What a sight.
“You wouldn’t be able to stop fighting even over my dead body.” You said in a silent, mourning voice before you stormed out of the house, leaving us standing in the middle of the room.
“You fucked up, mate.” He said after a long time.
“Bugger off.” Was all I could manage.
And he did. He was gone in the morning, as was his ship. He knew there was no hope this time to lure you back into our arms so he returned to his old life, the one he had only left for you. I, on the other hand, tried everything humanly possible to get you back. I was more persistent - or just more desperate, I don’t know. You wouldn’t even speak to me at first. You moved out the next morning and she took you in. You abandoned us both, ripped out our heart and didn’t care to dispose of the bodies. I am not exaggerating, losing you did kill us. Or at least drained all our life force from us. And you didn’t seem to care. Or we were just too blind to see how much our breaking up hurt you. But it’s hard to see the other’s pain when you’re drowning in misery - or in my case: rum.
In less than three months I managed to drink away all my money, my position and my health. I could only manage to keep my house because you settled my debts and took it upon you to finance my excessive drinking. You could afford it. You have become famous for your masterfully crafted swords and commissions came even from far away lands. When you saw what I had turned into, you took me under your wings, offered me friendship and tried to breathe some life in me again. It was a hopeless battle but you gave me enough strength to at least build up a mask of indifference and some dignity again.
And then I saw him again. It was the day of your marriage to her. We were both invited. First I thought it cruel but now I know you wanted us to find comfort in each other, to find back into each other’s arms. We did. We spent the night and most of the morning before the ceremony in bed. Bu there was no tenderness, no understanding or comfort. We still hated each other with undying passion, even more than before. First it had only been the commodore’s hatred for the pirate. But now we blamed each other for driving you away. This time it was personal. Our coupling was fierce and painful. We were trying to find the only link between us that hadn’t been about hatred but you had taken that away from us. So, instead, we hurt each other as much as possible.
We were late for the ceremony and looked like we had been in a fierce, brutal tavern fight. We both smelled of sex, rum and blood. Our faces and bodies were covered in angry bruises and cuts, our lips were swollen and neither of us could even think of sitting down or walking without a limp. Fortunately we both stayed away from the regular guests. He, because he was a wanted man again, and I because I was drunk as hell. You dint miss us, though. You knew we were there, even if far away, but you only had eyes for her.
She was beautiful in her long, white dress, just like an angel in fairytales but we also knew she was wild and untameable. That’s why you loved her. She was safety and danger at the same time. She could be everything for what you had needed the two of us before. We wanted you to be happy, of course we did. But it hurt. A sense of failure was sitting heavily on our shoulders and we tried to shake it off by fucking. I was drunk, more than I had ever been before and he was terribly sober and quiet. He was gone next morning and I was happy because I wasn’t sure if I could deal with him and the consequences of our actions.
*
But he’s here now and I’m still not sure how to handle his presence.
“I was waiting for you.” He just nods. He looks old and haunted. I tell him so.
“Look in a bloody mirror”, is his only answer. I don’t need to. I know what I must look like. I can imagine the deep lines of pain on my face, the dark circles under my eyes, the grey streaks in my dark hair. Sitting at someone’s deathbed will do that to people. I pour myself another glassful of rum and drain it in one gulp. He’s watching me closely, deep in thoughts. I don’t like that look and the openness of his eyes. I have seen him vulnerable too often, during sex with you. Only you could make him let his defences fall. It always scared me. To see the affect you had on him scared me because I knew you had the same on me. And this look only reminds me what my eyes must be like - filled with open pain and the desperate need to feel whole again.
“When is it?” he asks silently, his eyes directed at me. Too intense. I look away.
“In an hour.” I pick up his untouched glass with a shaking hand and pour the liquid down my throat. Heavy silence falls on the room and we are both scared to break it. Words are dangerous. Sharp swords. And we have already too many wounds to afford new ones. The darkness is slowly getting thinner, the contours of the room more defined, the troubled lines on his face more visible.
“Did he…?”
Did he suffer much? Did he think of me? Did he miss me? Us? Did he ever regret ending it?
I don’t need to know which of these he wants to know, the answer is the same.
“No.”
You were happy in the short time you had with your wife. You loved each other and you didn’t miss the past. For you it was only a memory tainted by unnecessary rivalry. And no, you didn’t suffer much. The fever took you from us as peacefully as possible. You weren’t thinking of us in your last moments, only of her and her loving smile.
I reach for the bottle again but before I can pour myself another drink, a rough hand closes around mine on the neck of the bottle. Our eyes meet and I can almost feel him searching for something deep down my soul. He won’t find anything there, though. He’s looking for something I can’t give. I know, because he can’t give me what I need either. The first messenger of a new day falls on our joined hands as if to show the way to a better future. There’s such a sense of possibility. I can feel it. Hope. If only I could grab it. I know I can’t, but it’s nice to imagine for a moment that I could.
“I’m sorry…”
That I tried to hang you. That I loved him first. That I let us ruin what we had with him. That you couldn’t say goodbye.
There is a nod. Faint, almost invisible, but I know it was there. I faintly wonder where our hatred has gone. Maybe it has died with you. That’s why there’s no joint future for us. All the links between us have been cut with your death. There is nothing now. He knows it too.
About an hour later we’re standing outside a cemetery, partly hidden from view by a large tree. We watch you set out on your last journey, just like we have watched you on your wedding day almost two years ago. Tears are streaming down my face and I don’t care to stop them. When he puts a comforting hand on my shoulder I cover it with my own but I don’t take my eyes off the coffin. We’re not mourning together. We can’t because we’re not mourning the same person.
He has lost the shy young man, who has turned rebel for his sake. I have lost the cheeky boy who grew up to be a fine young man under my care. You were both, or neither. I don’t know. Maybe only she knew. Maybe only she could see all of you and understand what you really needed. We could only give you what you wanted. We weren’t enough. She’s beautiful now. Her eyes are red, she has been crying but she’s strong now.
Can you see her? Can you see us? Standing far away from the only person who has a right to mourn you as her lover. Look at us. You were wrong, you know. We did manage some sort of a truce at least over your dead body. The thought makes me chuckle and earns me a curious look from him. I just shake my head.
Earth is thrown on your coffin and two silent prayers fly up to the sky. I love you. A pity they can never meet to form a new, happier bond. But they are directed at two separate parts of you that we have idolized for so long. Parallel lines binding us to two different men.
And parallel lines can never meet.
Pairing: James/Will/Jack(in every possible combination);Will/Mary(OC)~or Will/Liz (if you swing that way)
Rating: hard NC-17
Words: 6,758
Summary: "Between you and Jack." It couldn't have been more obvious. You wanted him. And, as usual, I couldn't deny your wish.
Disclaimer: I don't own PotC or the characters used. And Mary is justin_barrette 's sweet angel.
Parallel Lines
I’m sitting in my office at night. The room is only illuminated by the pale moonlight. The papers from my table have unceremoniously been shoved to the floor to make place for two glasses and the open bottle. Rum. I have despised this liquid for so long that I almost feel guilty for desiring the burning hotness so much even now, after becoming used to excessive amounts of it. I try to tell myself that the only purpose of having rum ready is that he won’t have anything else, but I have learned to see through my own lies over the years. The truth is I need the vile drink’s strength to cope with him - to cope with all of this.
I know when he arrives even before I hear his silent steps on the balcony and the soft sound of the glass door sliding open. It’s so like him to climb through the window even though I have made arrangements to leave the back door open for him. I don’t say anything just pour him a drink and wordlessly drain my own glass as he sits down on the chair on the opposite side of the table. He is looking at his glass for a long time but doesn’t reach for it. If someone had told me when I met him that one day he would be the sober one while I’m drunk out of my wits, I would never have believed it. Then again, I wouldn’t have believed either that one day I would sit with him at the same table without thinking of shooting him on the spot.
I have hated him with passion from the very first moment and he felt the same about me, I know. We were complete opposites. I was representing duty, loyalty and order. He was obstinate, free and rebellious. I was honour. He was selfish desire. I was safety. He was danger. That’s why you were so attracted to him. You just couldn’t resist the wild fire in his eyes, the challenge in that cocky smile. You wanted him and you always got what you wanted. After all, no one could resist your boyish charm, your serious, devoted eyes, your lustful innocence. I could never solve the mystery of your power, how you could conquer everybody you met. Maybe it was your innocence, that strange purity that you could preserve no matter how many women you have promised undying love to for a taste of their willing bodies, no matter how many cocks you have fucked in complete abandon.
Maybe that was what made you dangerous. They underestimated you. They all thought you were an innocent boy, just waiting to be corrupted. Oh, the delicious surprised scream of the women at realizing just how talented you were at giving and taking pleasure and the silent shock of the men as you fucked yourself on them like a needy whore. He was no exception. I can still remember the predatory look on his face as he tasted your lean, muscular body for the first time. He firmly believed he would be in charge and would show you pleasures you had not yet tasted. And you played along, as usual. The weak sighs, the trembling hand buried deep in the other’s hair, the arching back at the first gentle intrusion of a careful finger - they were all that of a virgin tasting the forbidden fruit for the first time.
But then the moment came when you lost control and needed it fast and hard. I was always waiting for this moment. The moment when you pushed yourself up and with one powerful movement flipped your partner on the back and took over control. I enjoyed it more when you were with men, partly because I couldn’t stand the high-pitched cries of the women during an intense orgasm since they drowned your delicious moans, and partly because nothing could compare to the sight of a hard, throbbing prick sliding into your perfect ass. That moment defeated my willpower every time and made me slide my hand inside my breeches and close it around my aching hardness. You knew exactly the effect the movements of your hips had on me, I know, because every time you looked to where you knew I’d be standing behind a hidden door and smiled disarmingly. That smile always sent me over the edge with a last violent jerk of my hips. I still don’t know how, but you always knew when I came, you were waiting for it before you closed your eyes, threw your head back and rode yourself to completion.
The virgin has been for your partner, the predator for me, but your orgasm was always for you, no games just raw lust. After that I usually shed my clothes and slid into a hot bath, waiting for you to join me once you have sent away your conquest for the night.
It had been like this for years, ever since your 16th birthday. You had been living at my house since we arrived in Port Royal. You were a shy, orphaned boy and I knew I would never have a son of my own, deep down I think I had always known. It seemed so easy. You looked up to me and were eager to learn and I was happy to come home to you from our long hunts for pirates. It was a peaceful time and I hoped it would never change.
But of course it did. On the night of your 16th birthday.
*
You were gone before dawn and left me worrying over you all day. It was late at night and I was already in bed when you arrived. Of course I couldn’t sleep, not knowing where you were, but I didn’t want you to know how worried I had been so I forced myself to go to bed. I was still sulking under the sheets when you silently came into my room and slid under the covers embracing be from behind just like every time you had done something wrong and tried to appease me.
“Jamie.” You whispered against my neck. Your soft breath tickled my skin slightly and I could feel your wide grin against me. You knew I couldn’t resist you when you were like that no matter how much I tried to stay angry. “I found work.” You stated proudly.
I was pleasantly surprised. I had been telling you to think about your future, I wasn’t a rich man after all. I could support you while I was around, but the Navy has never been the safest job of all, one could never know which storm or pirate attack would be the last. So I was glad that you have apparently found a secure income. But I was also a bit disappointed that you hadn’t discussed your decision with me. I turned around to look into your shining eyes.
“Come on, tell me.” I said poking you in the rib slightly and made you giggle.
“I’ll be a blacksmith.” I think I stared.
“Why on Earth would you want to do that?” Honestly, with the education I insisted you had, I had thought you’d make more out of your life. But you just shrugged and said:
“That’s what I want to do.” And that was it. I knew I couldn’t convince you otherwise. You always got what you wanted.
“Look, I don’t want to go back to England to find a well paying job, and what could I find here? I wouldn’t want to join the Navy and be sent off to God knows where to fight pirates. I want to be here whenever you come home from sea. I don’t want to leave you. Ever.”
You had always known how to win me for your ideas. I didn’t say another word on the matter and you knew you had my support. I could see it in your wide smile as you cuddled against me. We were silent for a long time and I though you had already fallen sleep when you finally spoke silently.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t here, Jamie. I know you were looking forward to today.”
“I had an amazing gift prepared for you.” I said with a fake pout on my face.
“Did it taste as bad as I think it did?”
“Absolutely terrible. Molly made me promise never to cook again again, I think it’s for the best.” I smiled softly, actually she had banned me from even entering her kitchen ever again. “How did you know I wanted to cook for you?”
“I know you too well, Jamie.” you smiled mysteriously against my collarbone while your hand was absently playing with the soft hair on my chest.
Something in your voice made me shudder but I tried not to think about it much. It would be a lie to say I hadn’t noticed that you had grown up to be a handsome young man, but I had promised myself never to look at you even remotely as a potential lover. I couldn’t bear the thought of pushing you into something you didn’t want and only agreed to out of gratitude. I mostly succeeded in keeping my growing attraction at bay but at moments like this, when you sneaked into my bed in the middle of the night, I was longing for what I had learned to live without and what I forced myself not to expect from you. We were silent for a long time again. For some reason neither of us could sleep. It was as if we were waiting for something but didn’t know what.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you.” I finally whispered breaking the awkward silence.
“It’s ok.”, was all you said at first but after a while you silently added “You can give me something else.”
I wanted to ask what but before I could say a word I felt your soft lips on my skin. You were leaving gentle kisses on my chest and neck. First I was so surprised that I couldn’t move but when you reached my jaw and wanted to kiss me on the lips I stopped you by putting a firm hand on your chest.
“What are you doing?” I could keep the trembling out of my voice. Your only answer was the soft brush of your lips against mine. “Will, no, I…” my mind was firing reasons at me why this could never happen but I never even got to finish that first sentence because you suddenly bit down on my lips so hard I was sure you’d draw blood.
“Shut up, Jamie.” You captured my lips again in a deep, demanding kiss and all I could do was to follow your lead. By the time you pulled away we were both breathing heavily and I could hardly think, just kept staring at your ecstatic grin.
“I want you to be my first, Jamie” you whispered and firmly closed your strong hand around my already hard cock, making me cry out loud. Faintly worrying about Molly hearing us was all I could manage but it merely took another slight brush of lips and a silent whisper to make me forget everything.
“I want you…”
And that was that. You always got what you wanted.
I will never forget that night. Your soft moans were like music to my ears. Like the song of sirens, and I knew you’d charm me into staying with you for ever. Your beautiful, lean body was moving under me like a new, virginal ship on her first adventure at sea - uncertain, but eager for more. I was slightly nervous at first, it had been so long since I had touched anybody like this but your moans and gasps soon convinced me that I needn’t worry. I can still remember every second as if it had been yesterday, I can still feel the intensity of your chocolate brown eyes, the need in your every movement, the extent of my love for you. At least that has never changed, and never will.
You fell asleep in my arms afterwards but I couldn’t find peace. I was lying awake for a long time, listening to your even breathing, watching your innocent, sated smile and I couldn’t help but feel guilty for corrupting your innocence.
I must have fallen asleep some time later, because the next thing I knew was being woken up by an incredibly intense orgasm washing over me. Still panting wildly I lifted the sheet and saw you, eyes shining, lips in a wicked smile around my member. I just lay there as if frozen, completely speechless from shock as you let my cock slip out of your mouth and licking off some of the come from the corner of your mouth crawled up to me.
“So? How was I?” you asked with a proud grin.
After that, somehow I couldn’t really feel guilty anymore about corrupting you.
*
The first time I heard you come home with a woman it felt like dying. It took all my power to stop myself from bursting into the room and brutally murder you both or to break down and beg you to stay with me - I’m not sure which. You were cruel or simply oblivious enough to take her into your old room, the one you had been using before our first night together, the one that was next to mine. You can’t imagine the torture of hearing every little gasp, every creak of the bed, and I couldn’t leave, no matter how hard I tried.
Hours later, after you had finished and had brought her home, you came to me. You slid into my bed just like that first night, embraced me from behind and kissed my exposed neck. And no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t push you away. I turned around and buried my face in the crook of your neck, desperately fighting back angry tears. You smelled of soap. You must have had the decency to wash at least but I could still smell the scent of sex and cheap perfume on your skin.
It took me almost a year to come to terms with the arrangement you seemed to have made without asking me. It was hard to realize I wasn’t enough, even harder that not being enough was not the same as not being needed. You did need me, the safety I gave you. Not financial, but emotional. I was the safe rock in your life, always had been, ever since we met. You did love me. I know. But you needed the excitement of new conquests, of the hunt where you pretended to be the prey.
Some you only kept for a night, some never even set foot in the house, others were allowed to come for one or two weeks, but no one lasted longer than a fortnight. You never introduced any of them to me. They didn’t matter. All they had in common was that they could make themselves believe they owned your body for a couple of hours and they never saw how you held them in your power. Some even fell in love with you. I couldn’t really blame them. But it didn’t matter. They all had to go sooner or later. Some cried - not only women -, some cursed, some pretended not to care.
But there was one man who couldn’t let you go. When you told him it was just a meaningless fuck - my words, not yours, but still - well, he flipped out and started strangling you. A single bullet from my pistol through his head was enough to get him quiet. I don’t think I could let go of you for hours and never left your side for weeks, imagining that such a bastard could have killed you if I hadn’t been close enough was too much to bear. So I decided to transform your room a bit. I let a second wall be built parallel to the one separating our rooms with a small hole on your side so that I could watch you through the eyes of an old painting. Cliché, I know, but effective. I was always watching. No matter who you were with, I was watching and I couldn’t admit even to myself that it wasn’t only to ensure your safety.
And you enjoyed it. It excited you to know that I was so addicted to you that I could do something I despised so much. I hated myself for leaning heavily against the wall, pressing my eyes closer to the hole so that I could see you better. I hated myself for not being able to resist the urge to bring myself to completion at the sight of you in someone else’s arms. I have promised myself countless times to stop, to find some hidden strength inside me to conquer my addiction, but there was no antidote to the painful craving you had awoken in me.
And you knew it. You knew exactly I would give anything you asked for. You never asked for much, though. I think it was enough for you to know you could. You only ever used your power when it came to sex. You loved to drive me wild with need before you gave me what I needed. But you always gave me what I needed even if I didn’t want it. I wanted to stay strong and resist the urge of touching myself while watching you with them, no matter how much my body begged to be pleasured. But you knew how to push me enough to accept what I needed. You knew what movements made my resistance melt away. And you wouldn’t come before you were sure I had had my release. I’m not sure if I loved or hated you for this sweet torture.
And every night, after your partner for the night had left, you came over to our shared room and slid into the bath tub beside me where I could wash their scent off you before I made love to you.
But then he came.
*
Dark, wild, seductive, untameable - the perfect prey for you. I should have realized the first time I met him that you’d want him, but my hatred for what he represented blinded my judgement. When you left with him to rescue her, I thought it was just your craving for adventure that drove you out to sea. Little did I realize it was much more about him and getting closer to him than anything else. It was only when you saved him from the gallows that I felt the usual burning jealousy poisoning the blood in my veins.
“Between you and Jack.”
It couldn’t have been more obvious. You wanted him and, as usual, I couldn’t deny your wish. He escaped, I made a great show of trying to hunt him down, sending all my men off to chase him across the seven seas, but in fact I was only leading them away from the place where I knew he’d be - back in Port Royal, in my house, in your bed, inside you.
I had no doubts that he would come back, no one could resist you. Of course he thought it was the other way round. He was convinced you had fallen for his charm. It was all written on his face, in his smug grin on that first night you spent together. And you played your part well. You were raw desire cloaked in virginal insecurity. Every light touch of those dirty fingers that I wanted to bat away made you sigh and tremble as you were being led to supposedly unknown, sinful places.
And the prey thought he was the predator.
Not for long, though. Not much after he carefully pushed inside you, you pulled him into a fierce kiss and flipped him on his back just like all the others. You held his arms over his head and licked his neck teasingly as you slowly rode his cock. I caught you glancing at the hidden door behind which I was standing with one hand down my breeches, achingly hard and surprised I could still hold on. Then you straightened up, let his hand glide to your hard, leaking prick and moaned loudly into the silence of the hot room.
“Oh, God, fuck me.”
I lost it then and there and came with a silent gasp at the same time as he did with a ferocious growl, bringing you to your climax just a few seconds later. It took me quite some time to gather enough strength to go back to my room, shed my clothes and slide into the hot water. I was waiting for you for a long time but you didn’t come. I started to get worried. What if he forced you to go with him? What if he kidnapped you? I admit, rational thinking has never been my strength when I was worried. I quickly got out of the bath, grabbed a towel and looked through the hole on your wall. Relief washed over me when I saw you on the large bed but it soon turned into confusion when I realized you were curled up to him as if you never wanted to let go again. This was strange, you usually got rid of you partners very quickly; they were never allowed to stay for the night.
And then it hit me. Hard.
You wanted to keep him.
You wanted him to be around for a long time. Maybe not for ever but at least months or even years. I knew you kept him in your bed because you wanted me to come over and accept his presence. You wanted him to be more than just a casual fuck. You wanted to include him in our life. In our love.
It hurt.
I had learned to cope with sharing your body but I was not sure I could ever get used to having to share your heart. That moment I wanted to kill him. No, not to bring justice and hang him as a pirate but strangle him with my own bare hands. But I knew I could never hurt you that way, I had to give you what you wanted.
I thought of getting dressed but then I decided against it. I silently opened the hidden door and stepped into your room, wearing nothing but a towel around my waist, droplets of water still clinging to my skin. He must have been completely charmed by your chocolate brown orbs and boyish smile because he didn’t even hear me until I spoke. I can’t remember what I said but it made him quickly reach for his pistol. I just laughed and went over to your side of the bed to pull you into a passionate kiss. You were kissing back eagerly and I was watching him the whole time. I’ll never forget the look on his face. It made me grin into the kiss.
He was naked. The usual cocky, grinning, always confident and elusive pirate was melting away in front of my eyes. I had always known you were good, but this was still unexpected. You achieved without trying what none other could. You had defeated the legend. You put him behind the bars of his love - the love he had mistaken for desire, and it was too late now to discover his mistake. It was intoxicating to finally find his weak spot, the one that I could use to outwit him. Too bad his weakness was mine too and I could not use it against him. Too bad I couldn’t hurt him without hurting you.
Why him? That was what I couldn’t understand. Why did you choose him with his dirty hands, drunken steps and infuriating manner? I kept repeating this question in my mind as I deepened the kiss and pulled you into my lap. You were only too happy to grind wildly against my groin and kept making delicious moaning sounds as I let my hands slide over your eager body. Was I like a dog that pisses on every tree to mark his territory? I suppose I was. Little did I expect you to reach behind your back to grip his cock and massage it back to life again. It made me furious and only more eager to please you.
I quickly removed my towel and lifted you over my hard cock. I will never forget the mixture of raw lust and tender love in your brown eyes and the jealous fury masked as mischievous challenge in his as I slid into your tight hole with one deliberate thrust that made you throw your head back and cry out in wanton desire. He used the golden opportunity and claimed your lips in a violent kiss, his eyes directed at me, burning with loathing and hatred. I closed my hand around your weeping prick but my hand was batted away by his and I couldn’t claim back my rightful place. He pressed himself flush against your back and I could feel his knees against mine as he was thrusting in your needy hand.
The victorious look in his dark eyes made me thrust into you harder, aiming for that spot that would convince you who you really belonged to. And when your unearthly cry told me I had found it, I slipped my hand on the nape of your neck and stole your wicked lips away from him again, pushing my greedy tongue in your mouth. My sense of victory didn’t last long, though, because he bit down on your shoulder, claiming you, marking you in a way on I should ever have been allowed to. But you didn’t protest just moaned deeply into my mouth and started rocking even harder against me. I could feel the change in pace in every fibre of my being as you started fucking yourself on my cock in earnest.
Your moans against my lips gained strength and you must have increased the pressure on his prick because I could feel his rough hand sliding up and down your length faster and faster. I tried to drown his sounds of pleasure with my loud moans and I was sure you could feel the wild beating of my heart against your firm, sweaty chest. You were the first to lose control after a particularly hard thrust against that spot inside you and I was drowning in the tightening grip of your body around me and the familiar wetness of your come on my chest.
I couldn’t hold on any longer and released into your willing body with one loud scream into the hot, wet cavern of your mouth. I was only faintly aware of his deep grown and of his come sliding down your back onto my knees as I clung to you desperately while trying to recover from the intensity of my orgasm. For a long time only our ragged breathing broke the silence of the room but then you spoke in a silent whisper:
“I love you.” Your head was resting on his shoulder and you pulled me close for another kiss before you added: “Both of you.”
I looked in his eyes that were only a couple of inches away. I could see myself in them and the mixture of pain and love that I felt in my own heart too. We fell asleep together that night and many nights afterwards. It was always like this. A silent battle of who could please you more with lips, hands, cock or hole. We both hoped you would finally choose between us and end this forced, uneasy truce. We never talked about our hopes and seemingly got along just fine.
I gritted my teeth and offered him full pardon and a commission as privateer. He accepted and even smiled over the corpse of his freedom. All for you. We both loved you. At it was Heaven. But you loved us both. And it was Hell. But you needed this. You needed the rock I was and the sea he represented. You only felt happy trapped in the violent torrents where the sea clashed at sharp rocks.
Once our fierce fight over control got out of hand and he scratched your back just a little too hard. Of course it turned into a huge argument between the two of us and by the time we calmed down you were gone. You spent the whole week at her house and wouldn’t even talk to us. We managed to lure you back into our bed with the promise of peace but we soon had to realize we couldn’t keep our word, so an alternative arrangement was made. You would spend one night with me, the next with him.
It seemed to work for a while but we still couldn’t be left in the same room for more than a minute without getting in a fight. I could see how it tortured you that the two men you loved so much could bear so much hatred against each other. And deep down we knew that this unholy trinity couldn’t last. It had to die a miserable death. We tried to prolong its death artificially but we were fighting a lost battle. The only question was who would leave the shared bed. He was convinced of his triumph, and I trusted your love for me to be stronger. You surprised us both.
It was a hot night when it all came to an ugly end. I had been away on a mission for three weeks and was dying to feel you near me, to be buried deep inside your body. It was supposed to be his night with you but I didn’t care. He had had you all for himself for three weeks, after all. So after a well deserved bath I entered your room with a smile on my face and hope in my heart. You were in my arms immediately, kissing me, telling me how much you had missed me. But I should have known better than to think he would just let me win.
“My night.”
“You had 21 nights in a row.”
“20. You shouldn’t be here tonight. Savvy?”
“This is my house.”
“You have no right.”
“Stop it! Both of you!”
“Right? Since when do pirates care about right?”
“Privateer.”
“Thanks to me.”
“Thanks to Will.”
“Thanks to your prick.”
“Well deserved.”
The two blows came almost at the same time and we couldn’t have told who got slapped first. But it silenced us immediately. We knew we had crossed a line again and deep down we felt it was over. We were trembling in the light of your fury like scared schoolboys. The legendary former pirate and the youngest admiral of all times silently begging for a blacksmith’s mercy. What a sight.
“You wouldn’t be able to stop fighting even over my dead body.” You said in a silent, mourning voice before you stormed out of the house, leaving us standing in the middle of the room.
“You fucked up, mate.” He said after a long time.
“Bugger off.” Was all I could manage.
And he did. He was gone in the morning, as was his ship. He knew there was no hope this time to lure you back into our arms so he returned to his old life, the one he had only left for you. I, on the other hand, tried everything humanly possible to get you back. I was more persistent - or just more desperate, I don’t know. You wouldn’t even speak to me at first. You moved out the next morning and she took you in. You abandoned us both, ripped out our heart and didn’t care to dispose of the bodies. I am not exaggerating, losing you did kill us. Or at least drained all our life force from us. And you didn’t seem to care. Or we were just too blind to see how much our breaking up hurt you. But it’s hard to see the other’s pain when you’re drowning in misery - or in my case: rum.
In less than three months I managed to drink away all my money, my position and my health. I could only manage to keep my house because you settled my debts and took it upon you to finance my excessive drinking. You could afford it. You have become famous for your masterfully crafted swords and commissions came even from far away lands. When you saw what I had turned into, you took me under your wings, offered me friendship and tried to breathe some life in me again. It was a hopeless battle but you gave me enough strength to at least build up a mask of indifference and some dignity again.
And then I saw him again. It was the day of your marriage to her. We were both invited. First I thought it cruel but now I know you wanted us to find comfort in each other, to find back into each other’s arms. We did. We spent the night and most of the morning before the ceremony in bed. Bu there was no tenderness, no understanding or comfort. We still hated each other with undying passion, even more than before. First it had only been the commodore’s hatred for the pirate. But now we blamed each other for driving you away. This time it was personal. Our coupling was fierce and painful. We were trying to find the only link between us that hadn’t been about hatred but you had taken that away from us. So, instead, we hurt each other as much as possible.
We were late for the ceremony and looked like we had been in a fierce, brutal tavern fight. We both smelled of sex, rum and blood. Our faces and bodies were covered in angry bruises and cuts, our lips were swollen and neither of us could even think of sitting down or walking without a limp. Fortunately we both stayed away from the regular guests. He, because he was a wanted man again, and I because I was drunk as hell. You dint miss us, though. You knew we were there, even if far away, but you only had eyes for her.
She was beautiful in her long, white dress, just like an angel in fairytales but we also knew she was wild and untameable. That’s why you loved her. She was safety and danger at the same time. She could be everything for what you had needed the two of us before. We wanted you to be happy, of course we did. But it hurt. A sense of failure was sitting heavily on our shoulders and we tried to shake it off by fucking. I was drunk, more than I had ever been before and he was terribly sober and quiet. He was gone next morning and I was happy because I wasn’t sure if I could deal with him and the consequences of our actions.
*
But he’s here now and I’m still not sure how to handle his presence.
“I was waiting for you.” He just nods. He looks old and haunted. I tell him so.
“Look in a bloody mirror”, is his only answer. I don’t need to. I know what I must look like. I can imagine the deep lines of pain on my face, the dark circles under my eyes, the grey streaks in my dark hair. Sitting at someone’s deathbed will do that to people. I pour myself another glassful of rum and drain it in one gulp. He’s watching me closely, deep in thoughts. I don’t like that look and the openness of his eyes. I have seen him vulnerable too often, during sex with you. Only you could make him let his defences fall. It always scared me. To see the affect you had on him scared me because I knew you had the same on me. And this look only reminds me what my eyes must be like - filled with open pain and the desperate need to feel whole again.
“When is it?” he asks silently, his eyes directed at me. Too intense. I look away.
“In an hour.” I pick up his untouched glass with a shaking hand and pour the liquid down my throat. Heavy silence falls on the room and we are both scared to break it. Words are dangerous. Sharp swords. And we have already too many wounds to afford new ones. The darkness is slowly getting thinner, the contours of the room more defined, the troubled lines on his face more visible.
“Did he…?”
Did he suffer much? Did he think of me? Did he miss me? Us? Did he ever regret ending it?
I don’t need to know which of these he wants to know, the answer is the same.
“No.”
You were happy in the short time you had with your wife. You loved each other and you didn’t miss the past. For you it was only a memory tainted by unnecessary rivalry. And no, you didn’t suffer much. The fever took you from us as peacefully as possible. You weren’t thinking of us in your last moments, only of her and her loving smile.
I reach for the bottle again but before I can pour myself another drink, a rough hand closes around mine on the neck of the bottle. Our eyes meet and I can almost feel him searching for something deep down my soul. He won’t find anything there, though. He’s looking for something I can’t give. I know, because he can’t give me what I need either. The first messenger of a new day falls on our joined hands as if to show the way to a better future. There’s such a sense of possibility. I can feel it. Hope. If only I could grab it. I know I can’t, but it’s nice to imagine for a moment that I could.
“I’m sorry…”
That I tried to hang you. That I loved him first. That I let us ruin what we had with him. That you couldn’t say goodbye.
There is a nod. Faint, almost invisible, but I know it was there. I faintly wonder where our hatred has gone. Maybe it has died with you. That’s why there’s no joint future for us. All the links between us have been cut with your death. There is nothing now. He knows it too.
About an hour later we’re standing outside a cemetery, partly hidden from view by a large tree. We watch you set out on your last journey, just like we have watched you on your wedding day almost two years ago. Tears are streaming down my face and I don’t care to stop them. When he puts a comforting hand on my shoulder I cover it with my own but I don’t take my eyes off the coffin. We’re not mourning together. We can’t because we’re not mourning the same person.
He has lost the shy young man, who has turned rebel for his sake. I have lost the cheeky boy who grew up to be a fine young man under my care. You were both, or neither. I don’t know. Maybe only she knew. Maybe only she could see all of you and understand what you really needed. We could only give you what you wanted. We weren’t enough. She’s beautiful now. Her eyes are red, she has been crying but she’s strong now.
Can you see her? Can you see us? Standing far away from the only person who has a right to mourn you as her lover. Look at us. You were wrong, you know. We did manage some sort of a truce at least over your dead body. The thought makes me chuckle and earns me a curious look from him. I just shake my head.
Earth is thrown on your coffin and two silent prayers fly up to the sky. I love you. A pity they can never meet to form a new, happier bond. But they are directed at two separate parts of you that we have idolized for so long. Parallel lines binding us to two different men.
And parallel lines can never meet.