Final Fantasy XII/Pirates of the Carribean (Jack Sparrow/Balthier/Vaan)
Which was probably why he was even letting this happen in the first place.
“I don’t know,” Vaan was saying warily, mouth twisted as he looked at the chipped earthenware mug. “Are you sure this stuff is good?”
“Vaan lad,” the table’s third occupant declared expansively, beads in his hair rattling as he leaned forward in his chair. “Rum is better than good. It’s heavenly. Absolutely divine. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Vaan had introduced the man as Jack, or Captain Jack if Balthier was going to be precise, and offered no further explanation for the man’s presence once he’d plunked them both unceremoniously down at Balthier’s previously quiet table in the corner of one of Balfonheim’s marginally less seedy pubs. He also hadn’t bothered elucidating Balthier as to what he was doing coming into a pub with a stranger when he was patently underage, but Balthier surmised that Vaan probably hadn’t thought about it at all.
For his part, had Jack seemed perfectly comfortable with Vaan’s manhandling, accepting the blithely amiable hand tugging on his arm with a natural flair that almost made up for his strange, mincing walk and almost abstracted confusion. His somewhat ragged appearance spoke to hard times and a general disinterest in the dictates of even marginally civilized society, although Balthier suspected that the man had his own, rather obscure sense of style that thought his get-up looked suitably rakish. That Jack was a pirate rather went without saying, not in this port and not when his tar-stained fingers never strayed far from the hilt of the sword slung comfortably at his hip, and Vaan had been duly impressed by the fact that Jack apparently still clung to the old ways of sailing on the seas rather than the clouds.
“This is Captain Jack,” Vaan had declared happily, proud as if it was himself he was talking about. “He’s the captain of a boat.”
“Ship, love,” Jack had corrected with a mild grimace. “Even if it doesn’t fly, it’s still called a ship.”
Personally, Balthier would have put good gil on the fact that Jack didn’t currently own a ship, but wasn’t foolish enough to think that would make any difference to Vaan’s opinion. After all, the lad didn’t have a ship either, high flying dreams aside.
Balthier had put some extra bite in his smile as Jack had sat down, ready to make it very clear that Vaan was not nearly as easy a conquest as he seemed. It was something they’d all become rather used to, especially since Vaan may as well have had a target painted on his pretty tanned chest for all the attention he paid to the sorts of unsavory individuals he tended to attract. And it wasn’t that Balthier could really blame any of them for their interest in Vaan - he had as fine an appreciation for lovely and clueless as the next pirate, after all - but someone really ought to have warned the lad that Balfonheim was not the place to be making new ‘friends.’
He’d expected this Jack to back off fairly quickly once he realized that Vaan wasn’t available, but the pirate had surprised him with a quirk of his lips and an affable nod that gave no indication that things were going any way other than to plan.
“Balthier was it?” he’d murmured, a disingenuous smile on his face. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise,” Balthier had responded automatically, the manners drilled into him during his youth hard to betray even in a hole like this. Jack’s smile had deepened into something low and secretly pleased, like Balthier had just passed a test he hadn’t been aware he was taking.
“Excellent,” Jack had declared enthusiastically, voice far too loud when they hadn’t even started drinking yet. “How about a round to celebrate?”
Balthier had distrusted him instantly. But it was more of a wary prudence than an active concern for his own welfare, so he was able to accept the offering of a ‘friendly’ drink with nothing more than an eloquently raised eyebrow and a half-challenging smirk that Jack willing matched. And so the three of them had sat together, whiling away the afternoon while Jack proved himself an eminently entertaining story-teller and Vaan didn’t say anything too colossally stupid to merit hustling him back to the dubious inn before he got them all thrown out.
And now, after several drinks and enough time to start appreciating the wicked way Jack’s mouth curved when he was plotting something, Balthier found himself staring at the smooth roll of Vaan’s throat as the boy took a hesitant swallow of the rum Jack had produced and wondering whether he ought to start being concerned for the boy.
“Hey, this stuff isn’t too bad,” Vaan said, surprised, blue eyes slightly unfocused as they blinked at Jack.
“Of course not mate,” Jack declared with conviction. “It’s rum.” A wide hand insinuated itself around Vaan’s bare shoulder, Jack’s eyes glittering in the dim light as he leaned in close. “Go on,” he encouraged, foolish façade melting away into something smoky and suggestive. “It gets better as you go.”
He should probably put a stop to this, Balthier thought, before Vaan got himself into real trouble. The high flush on Vaan’s tanned cheeks made him fairly certain that he was a little too late in at least one respect, but he still ought to be doing something other than enjoying the way Vaan’s eyes darted back and forth like a caged bird under Jack’s regard, blue as the sky - or the sea - and wonderfully unaware of the situation he’d put himself in.
Then kohl-smudged eyes cut across the table and Balthier felt his own pulse jump as Jack slid a second pint towards him with an expectant smile. “Come on then, Master Balthier,” the man declared, raising his own drink with an amused tilt of his head. “We can’t leave young Vaan to drink alone.” And there was nothing even remotely subtle in the way his gaze lingered as he added, “Rum is best when enjoyed with friends, savvy?”
Balthier had no doubt that he was just as likely as Vaan to do something monumentally foolish here. But, unlike Vaan, Balthier was well aware of what was being offered - and expected as recompense - in this exchange. And there was something strangely refreshing about dealing with someone who didn’t even bother to hide his ulterior motives; didn’t care about sugar coating them with heroic delusions of ‘doing the right thing.’ He could trust Jack to be untrustworthy, and didn’t have to risk getting a knife in his back because he already knew better than to offer it to the man.
And that uncomplicated kind of dishonesty made it strangely easy to accept this sort of offer for what it was.
Balthier lifted his mug in a jaunty toast, meeting the slow burn in Jack’s eyes with a sly smirk as he downed the whole thing in one long, nonchalant swallow. And the alcohol burned like liquid fire down his throat but Balthier studiously ignored the pain, taking the pleased appreciation in Jack’s eyes as his due.
“Are you still on your first drink Vaan?” he asked then, the drink and anticipation making his voice husky. “I hope you’re not falling behind.”
Which was patently unfair, but Balthier wasn’t much bothered. He was a pirate too after all, and all the warnings that applied to Jack went double for him. He smiled with feline appreciation as Vaan’s jaw firmed and he reached determinedly for his mug, completely oblivious to the heated look that Jack and Balthier shared over his head.
And really, if Vaan hadn’t learned his lesson yet, Balthier supposed he’d just have to help him figure it out the hard way.
“I don’t know,” Vaan was saying warily, mouth twisted as he looked at the chipped earthenware mug. “Are you sure this stuff is good?”
“Vaan lad,” the table’s third occupant declared expansively, beads in his hair rattling as he leaned forward in his chair. “Rum is better than good. It’s heavenly. Absolutely divine. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Vaan had introduced the man as Jack, or Captain Jack if Balthier was going to be precise, and offered no further explanation for the man’s presence once he’d plunked them both unceremoniously down at Balthier’s previously quiet table in the corner of one of Balfonheim’s marginally less seedy pubs. He also hadn’t bothered elucidating Balthier as to what he was doing coming into a pub with a stranger when he was patently underage, but Balthier surmised that Vaan probably hadn’t thought about it at all.
For his part, had Jack seemed perfectly comfortable with Vaan’s manhandling, accepting the blithely amiable hand tugging on his arm with a natural flair that almost made up for his strange, mincing walk and almost abstracted confusion. His somewhat ragged appearance spoke to hard times and a general disinterest in the dictates of even marginally civilized society, although Balthier suspected that the man had his own, rather obscure sense of style that thought his get-up looked suitably rakish. That Jack was a pirate rather went without saying, not in this port and not when his tar-stained fingers never strayed far from the hilt of the sword slung comfortably at his hip, and Vaan had been duly impressed by the fact that Jack apparently still clung to the old ways of sailing on the seas rather than the clouds.
“This is Captain Jack,” Vaan had declared happily, proud as if it was himself he was talking about. “He’s the captain of a boat.”
“Ship, love,” Jack had corrected with a mild grimace. “Even if it doesn’t fly, it’s still called a ship.”
Personally, Balthier would have put good gil on the fact that Jack didn’t currently own a ship, but wasn’t foolish enough to think that would make any difference to Vaan’s opinion. After all, the lad didn’t have a ship either, high flying dreams aside.
Balthier had put some extra bite in his smile as Jack had sat down, ready to make it very clear that Vaan was not nearly as easy a conquest as he seemed. It was something they’d all become rather used to, especially since Vaan may as well have had a target painted on his pretty tanned chest for all the attention he paid to the sorts of unsavory individuals he tended to attract. And it wasn’t that Balthier could really blame any of them for their interest in Vaan - he had as fine an appreciation for lovely and clueless as the next pirate, after all - but someone really ought to have warned the lad that Balfonheim was not the place to be making new ‘friends.’
He’d expected this Jack to back off fairly quickly once he realized that Vaan wasn’t available, but the pirate had surprised him with a quirk of his lips and an affable nod that gave no indication that things were going any way other than to plan.
“Balthier was it?” he’d murmured, a disingenuous smile on his face. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise,” Balthier had responded automatically, the manners drilled into him during his youth hard to betray even in a hole like this. Jack’s smile had deepened into something low and secretly pleased, like Balthier had just passed a test he hadn’t been aware he was taking.
“Excellent,” Jack had declared enthusiastically, voice far too loud when they hadn’t even started drinking yet. “How about a round to celebrate?”
Balthier had distrusted him instantly. But it was more of a wary prudence than an active concern for his own welfare, so he was able to accept the offering of a ‘friendly’ drink with nothing more than an eloquently raised eyebrow and a half-challenging smirk that Jack willing matched. And so the three of them had sat together, whiling away the afternoon while Jack proved himself an eminently entertaining story-teller and Vaan didn’t say anything too colossally stupid to merit hustling him back to the dubious inn before he got them all thrown out.
And now, after several drinks and enough time to start appreciating the wicked way Jack’s mouth curved when he was plotting something, Balthier found himself staring at the smooth roll of Vaan’s throat as the boy took a hesitant swallow of the rum Jack had produced and wondering whether he ought to start being concerned for the boy.
“Hey, this stuff isn’t too bad,” Vaan said, surprised, blue eyes slightly unfocused as they blinked at Jack.
“Of course not mate,” Jack declared with conviction. “It’s rum.” A wide hand insinuated itself around Vaan’s bare shoulder, Jack’s eyes glittering in the dim light as he leaned in close. “Go on,” he encouraged, foolish façade melting away into something smoky and suggestive. “It gets better as you go.”
He should probably put a stop to this, Balthier thought, before Vaan got himself into real trouble. The high flush on Vaan’s tanned cheeks made him fairly certain that he was a little too late in at least one respect, but he still ought to be doing something other than enjoying the way Vaan’s eyes darted back and forth like a caged bird under Jack’s regard, blue as the sky - or the sea - and wonderfully unaware of the situation he’d put himself in.
Then kohl-smudged eyes cut across the table and Balthier felt his own pulse jump as Jack slid a second pint towards him with an expectant smile. “Come on then, Master Balthier,” the man declared, raising his own drink with an amused tilt of his head. “We can’t leave young Vaan to drink alone.” And there was nothing even remotely subtle in the way his gaze lingered as he added, “Rum is best when enjoyed with friends, savvy?”
Balthier had no doubt that he was just as likely as Vaan to do something monumentally foolish here. But, unlike Vaan, Balthier was well aware of what was being offered - and expected as recompense - in this exchange. And there was something strangely refreshing about dealing with someone who didn’t even bother to hide his ulterior motives; didn’t care about sugar coating them with heroic delusions of ‘doing the right thing.’ He could trust Jack to be untrustworthy, and didn’t have to risk getting a knife in his back because he already knew better than to offer it to the man.
And that uncomplicated kind of dishonesty made it strangely easy to accept this sort of offer for what it was.
Balthier lifted his mug in a jaunty toast, meeting the slow burn in Jack’s eyes with a sly smirk as he downed the whole thing in one long, nonchalant swallow. And the alcohol burned like liquid fire down his throat but Balthier studiously ignored the pain, taking the pleased appreciation in Jack’s eyes as his due.
“Are you still on your first drink Vaan?” he asked then, the drink and anticipation making his voice husky. “I hope you’re not falling behind.”
Which was patently unfair, but Balthier wasn’t much bothered. He was a pirate too after all, and all the warnings that applied to Jack went double for him. He smiled with feline appreciation as Vaan’s jaw firmed and he reached determinedly for his mug, completely oblivious to the heated look that Jack and Balthier shared over his head.
And really, if Vaan hadn’t learned his lesson yet, Balthier supposed he’d just have to help him figure it out the hard way.