Trowa wandered the deck for a while. The crisp, salty air working to clear his senses. He had acted like a fool back there. And he had probably scared Quatre to death. But...but he couldn't stand the thought of the little one associating him with all the others. He wasn't like that. He wanted more from the boy than just sex. He knew far too well what it felt like to be used.
But, of course, how would the blonde know that? He stood at the bow of the ship, and watched it slice through the waves. How could he convince his Quatre that he wanted everything from him? Not just his body, but his mind, his heart, his soul...
Just touching the boy had made him rock hard, so how was he supposed to assure the boy that he wasn't just another possible attacker? He could tell the little one his feelings, but they sounded stupid, even to him. To profess to be in love with someone you've hardly talked to...the boy was too suspicious to ever believe that. No matter how true it might be. How true it was.
The banged pirate sighed, and looked up at the stars. He searched out the most prominent ones, and within minutes he knew their precise location. Even with the time it had taken to plunder that ship, they were still on course.
In three days time they'd reach the South Indies. And there he could let his little one go, if he so desired. There were many ships, always looking for crew. Or, his sister lived there, she would be willing to give the boy a job, if Trowa asked her. At least then, Quatre would have someone to look out for him.
Trowa's chest tightened. He didn't want to let the boy go. To let someone else watch after him. *He* wanted to do it. Wanted to keep the boy with him, sail the world together, see every foreign mystery, with Quatre by his side. But he had to resign himself to the fact that...maybe that wasn't what *Quatre* wanted.
He might not want to be tied down to some rough, murdering pirate. The blonde had been searching for freedom, for independence. Meanwhile, Trowa had been searching for him. He hadn't known it would be this specific boy, not until he saw him...But he had been waiting for him. The one that would offer his heart to him, offer his body, and his mind willingly.
The Captain familiar with the boy's situation. Many a time his lovers came to him out of a desire to improve their own wealth. Thinking that sleeping with him would be profitable. Or they came to his bed to improve their station on the ship, or just to say that had slept with him. As if sleeping with the ocean's most feared pirate was a bragging right.
None of them ever made love with him. Never let him take their body because they loved him, or cared about him in any way. When he woke up in the mornings he always felt exploited. Knowing that he was just being used for whatever their purpose was. He just...he just wanted someone to belong to. Someone to belong to him. For as long as he could remember, he had sailed the waters. Never staying long in any port, or any bed.
Trowa wanted something to hold onto, something permanent. A person who would be with him without any thought of what they could gain. A person who would just love him, because of him. Who would stand by him, and not leave. A person who would give their love to him, and want to receive his. And this person would get the greatest treasure in all the world. The most rare, and valuable one he had.
His heart.
Trowa turned around, and headed back to his cabin. Quatre was that person. He didn't know how he knew it, but he did. He was sure of it. Now all he had to do was make the blonde aware of it too.
He reached the cabin, and paused at the door, almost terrified to enter. He wasn't sure how to proceed. He had left...he had left in such a manner that he wasn't sure what would be awaiting him on the other side of the door. He sighed at his trepidation. He was the dreaded Captain Barton. No small boy could intimidate him. He kept telling himself that as his shaky hands unlocked the door, and he stepped into the room. He turned before he could see Quatre, and locked the door back.
Trowa stared at the door for a few minutes. He was the dreaded Captain Barton. No small boy could intimidate him. He took a deep breath, and spun around. Out of all the reactions he could have expected from Quatre, the one he got shocked him.
The boy was fast asleep, on his bed. He exhaled. He didn't know if he was relieved or frustrated that they wouldn't get to talk. He inched his way closer to the slumbering form. Quatre was a lovely site to behold as he slept. His golden hair spread across the pillow, virtually begging for Trowa to run his fingers through it. Long eyelashes rested on creamy cheeks, which held a pinkish hue. Soft lips, were parted slightly, as a welcome invitation.
The shirt was all but rags, giving tantalizing peeks at the fair skin underneath. Black breeches fit snugly against his small hips, and slender thighs. Striped socks encased the rest of his slim, perfect legs.
Trowa gulped. And then he ran to the door. Frantically unlocking it, he burst into the hallway, shutting himself out. He locked the door back, for Quatre's protection. Against Trowa. He panted, willing the sight of the angel on his bed, to stop dancing before his eyes.
How was he to prove that he wanted more from Quatre than his body, if said body caused him to react like this? He looked down at the large protrusion in the front of his pants. Another walk around the deck was order. He was the dreaded Captain Barton. No small boy could intimidate him.
He bolted to the deck, and paced around it nervously. He cursed himself for being a coward. In all his years of marauding, he had not once run from anything. But in the course of one day, he had fled from one elfin boy. Twice. But the feelings he felt for Quatre just plain scared him.
He shouldn't care so much for his little one. Not this quickly. It was too overpowering, there was too much at stake. What if Quatre refused him...laughed at him...feared him...? It would destroy him. There was so much resting on the shoulders of one beautiful boy. And the blonde didn't even know it.
And Trowa realized that Quatre would continue to be unaware until he was informed. The green eyed boy straightened his shoulders. He stopped slouching, and stood up, and finally looked like the proud, powerful pirate that he was. With a determined look to him, he strode over to his first mate, and asked for the use of his cabin. The man nodded, and wondered at his Captain's bizarre behavior. And why their leader kept whispering I'm the dreaded Captain Barton. No small boy can intimidate me.
Trowa entered the cabin, not even knowing that he had been whispering to himself. He would stay here, and let Quatre rest for a while longer, while he gathered his thoughts. He wanted everything to go perfectly. He looked down at his painfully swollen arousal. He needed to take care of that before he want back to his little one. Maybe then his mind would be clear enough, and he wouldn't get so...distracted at the sight of the boy. He sat in the room's lone chair, and slid one long fingered hand into his pants.
He groaned and closed his eyes. His vision was clouded with spun gold hair, eyes the color of the sea, and supple, milky skin. He gasped as his rough fingers curled around the hot flesh. His pants had become overly constricting, so with one hand still wrapped around his rigid cock, he used the other to wiggle himself free.
His hand involuntarily squeezed his erection harder, making him cry out in enjoyment. The pressure sent hot waves through his body. He spread his legs as far as the material would let him, and began to slowly stroke up and down his stiff length.
His fingers were calloused, and course from years of labor, and the feeling of those unsmooth pads running over him was heavenly. Second only to the celestial being flickering behind his eyelids. He thumbed the tip, as he squeezed lightly. He shuddered as pure pleasure warmed his blood. He felt the dew beaded on the head of his arousal.
As he stroked down to the base, it moistened him, allowing his fingers to run more slickly over his cock. His free hand slid up under his shirt, and he ran it over his nipples. He brushed the buds lightly, and then alternately pinched them, teasing them until they were hard.
His hand continued to work his cock, pumping up and down in ever quickening movements. Each stroke causing more flames to sweep his senses, until his body glistened with sweat. He began to squeeze himself as he pumped. He grasped his rock hard arousal tightly, then released it. Continually tightening and loosening his grip. The effect was maddening. It made his entire body feel like one burning, needy, mess of nerves.
Trowa focused entirely on those feelings. On the rugged hands stroking his body, burning into the flesh they touched. On the angel before him. The blonde spread out under him, begging for his body to be ravished.
Trowa moaned as his hand sped up. He was pumping fast, fingers stroking hard on his damp cock. He could almost feel Quatre's untouched passage throbbing around him. He bit his lip, as he squeezed his erection. No, it was Quatre's tightness that was constricting around him. Quatre's voice moaning in the room.
His whole body tingled, and rocked as he thrust into his hand. All coherent thoughts flying out the window. His concentration fixated on the overflowing, passionate fire that had built in his loins. The green eyed pirate could feel the fire overtaking him, blazing through him.
He stroked faster. Fastened only on the motions on his erect cock. Up, and down, in and out, his hand, Quatre's warmth, they all swirled together. He thrust into his hand, the fevered need inside of him boiling over. He felt the part of himself he'd been holding back liberated.
"I love you, Quatre," he cried, as he spilt the creaminess of his desire all over his hand.
He trembled as he sat there, taken aback at the force of his climax. The warmth, and satedness rolled over him, leaving him feeling calm, and relaxed.
He lolled in the chair for a while, until he felt his legs would support him. Trowa finally got up, still slightly wobbly. He cleaned up, and redressed before he headed out of the room. He was in a much better state of mind. Hopefully he could stay in the same room as Quatre for more than ten minutes. He checked on his first mate, who was still stationed at the helm.
The man shooed him away, a definite twinkle in his eye. Trowa tried his best to look domineering, but failed until his mate's knowing look. The man had seen the way the Captain looked at the boy. He could handle the ship for a while. Give his leader a chance to find something he knew the boy had been looking for.
Satisfied that all was well, Trowa went below deck to see about securing a meal for his little one. The blonde was going to be working up an appetite. He berated himself for his train of thought. The poor boy hadn't eaten and he was going to need all the energy he could muster. Trowa sighed, but vowed that no matter where his thoughts went, his hands would remain to themselves.
As for his mouth...The banged pirate groaned as his mind continued to torture him. He sat, and waited as the ship's cook fixed them a meal. The gnarled old man placed the food on a tray, and Trowa picked it, as well as a bottle of wine, up, and walked back to his room. All the while trying to tame his racing thoughts.
He stood outside the wooden barrier that separated him from Quatre. This was it. It was sink or swim. He balanced the tray on one hand, and held the bottle under his arm. He slid the key into the lock with his free hand. The door swung open, and he stepped through. The blonde lying on the bed sat up, and sleepily rubbed his eyes. Trowa unknowing smiled at the picture. His little one was quite adorable as he awoke. The pirate set the food down on the table, and walked over to relock the door. He didn't want any disturbances.
* * *
As soon as the Captain had left, Quatre found himself bizarrely happy. And he smiled, a genuine smile, for the first time in as long as he could remember. He didn't know why, but the pirate's words rang true to him. He didn't even know the green eyed boy, and yet he felt secure with him. And he was sure that Trowa would be true to his word. And it felt good to know that.
To realize that that the banged Captain wouldn't force him into anything, wouldn't take something he wasn't willing to offer. As he lay there unhappy memories from his past flashed through him. Why was this pirate, this brigand inspiring more trust, more security than his own father had?
He remembered the Sultan's announcement that he would be the heir to the El-For kingdom. It was as if the man had smeared him with blood and tossed him to hungry wolves. Every predator from Arabia, and the lands beyond had picked up the scent, and raced to see who could devour him first. It hadn't been a pleasant time.
At first it wasn't so bad. Just dozens of strange people giving him outrageous gifts. Chests full of jewels. More precious stones, than he could ever need in one lifetime. They bestowed on him the finest fabrics from all over the world. The softest silks, and furs. Enough to clothe the entire Arabian army and then some.
And then came the slaves. The most beautiful, and exotic. Many foreign, with a fascinating loveliness about them. All of the gifts had made him uncomfortable, but the last made him downright uneasy. To know that someone would offer another's life in exchange for a willing ear in the palace.
It disgusted him. That the value of a human's life could be seen as so little. Quatre almost snorted at his naivete back then. To think he had thought the slaves was the worst of it. But no, that was just the beginning. He graciously declined these gifts.
And the more honorable of the people had taken the hint, and left him alone, when they saw that bribery was not an option. And then there were the few that refused to give up. He could recall being cornered in remote hallways. Being grabbed and caressed by men, who thought these were wise tactics. Being pinned against walls, and touched in way too familiar ways.
And all his protests fell upon deaf ears. He wasn't sure which was worse. That these men felt these were appropriate actions. Or that his father so blatantly ignored them.
What did those bastards hope to gain? Did they think that by forcibly taking his body he would grant them favors? That he would be too scared to deny them what they asked for afterwards? That they could sway him to their beliefs? He wasn't sure. But after his father denied such events taking place, the attacks had become much more blatant.
No longer was he pushed into dark areas, now he was groped any, and everywhere. Any random hall or room would do. As if his father's denial had been more of a blessing to them. And as the attacks grew more frequent, and aggressive, his will to fight had lessened.
But the final blow had come one fateful night. Quatre had woken to find himself pressed to his bed, with a large man firmly holding him down. If not for Rashid's well timed intervention the man would have gotten what he was after. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Quatre was tired of fighting, of being frightened in his own home. In his own room. The large, burly bodyguard had held him that night. Cradled him like a small child, and let him shake in his massive arms. Quatre told Rashid that he was giving up, that it was too hard. He would give those men what they wanted.
Rashid had become furious. Not at him, but at his situation. He had made Quatre promise to be strong for just a little longer. And he had told his young master that he would get him out. Renewed by Rashid's pledge Quatre had continued to fight. To ward off all the unsavory advances.
But each day he felt less and less able. Each day brought more people trying to touch his body in ways that made him feel filthy. He was taking numerous baths a day. Until finally the night arrived when Rashid smuggled him out of the palace.
They had dressed in servant's garb, and blended with a departing caravan. In a week's time, they had reached the coast, and the port city of Aryea. Quatre knew his father would be searching for him, but now it was too late. Rashid took him to the docks, to meet with a friend of his. The friend turned out to be the Captain of a ship, and agreed to take Quatre along as his cabin boy. It wasn't a high ranking, or esteemed position, but it would get him far away from the palace, and that was all that mattered.
So he joined the crew, and became the cabin boy for Captain Abdulle. As the ship set sail he waved good-bye to the one person, the only person he had ever really trusted. The beginning of the voyage had been rather exciting. For the first time he was out on his own, sailing to strange places he had only read about. The thing that mystified Quatre the most was the ocean though.
His father had kept him on a short leash, so all he had ever known were the golden expanses of the desert sands. The sea enthralled him. The way it's blue depths seemed to stretch forever. He was learning his way around the ship, and actually felt that he was earning his keep rather than being kept around as some sort of trinket. He was filled with an amazing sense of pride.
He could believe that he was more than just body meant for the pleasure of others. He was a sailor, a member of the crew. That was, until they had been at sea for a month. And the other sailors' instincts kicked in. When no women were available, the turned to the next best thing. A small, beautiful boy. Just when Quatre had started to feel safe, when he had started to think of himself as more than a sex toy.
They weren't too forward about it. They knew he was under the Captain's protection. But they had no where to go, and their patience wore thin. A group of six attacked him, pushed him behind the crates of cargo they were carrying, and attempted to rape him.
The first sailor climbed on top of him, just before they heard the yelling above deck. The men scrambled off him, and ran to see what the commotion was. And then the ship rocked, as something crashed against its side. Quatre wearily got up, and wandered above, not really caring anymore about anything going on around him. When he reached the deck, he was stunned by the chaos he saw.
Dozens of strange men were swarming onto the deck of their ship. There was another ship along side of theirs, anchored to theirs by ropes. The unknown men were slaughtering everyone in site. Blood ran freely along the deck, staining the wood crimson. It made his stomach turn.
And then he heard a shout, and their attention was directed to them. He fell to his knees hoping only that his death would be quick. When it didn't come straight away, he looked up into the face of the man towering over him. The pirate had his sword in his hand, and was poised to deliver death.
Their eyes met, and Quatre felt something run through him. It should have been fear, but it wasn't. It was something completely different. He felt as if he had known this stranger all his life. Like he was finally meeting up with him again, and he felt...relief? He was breathless, not with worry...but with excitement? He looked at the pirate, imploring him to explain these feelings, to understand them.
The green eyed one lowered his sword, and hauled Quatre over his shoulder. And for some inexplicable reason...Quatre felt perfectly safe. As if being in this stranger's arms was the most natural place for him to be. For one brief instant they were only two that existed.
The peaceful moment passed and he once again became aware of the carnage surrounding him. And was again wary of his future. That had been a mere two days ago, and yet it felt like a century. He couldn't explain the unfounded trust the other invoked in him. Couldn't reason out why, even though they never talked, he knew that this green eyed buccaneer was his. And he didn't want to.
This was his one love, the one he'd been saving himself for, the one who would cherish, and protect him. He closed his eyes, and let sleep claim him, as he decided to just accept the gift that fate had given him.
* * *
Quatre woke, at first unnerved when he couldn't remember where he was. He sat up quickly, and panicked, until he took in his surroundings. Then the recent events came flooding back to him. Him being so open, telling the Captain all those things about his life. The boy comforting him. Quatre accusing him of being like all the others he had known. The banged pirate leaving in a huff. The blonde laid back down, closed his eyes, and sighed. He didn't truly think that Trowa was like the other men. He had just been scared, and that was his first reaction.
He heard the key scraping in the lock, and his eyes flew open. The door swung open, and Trowa walked in and set a tray on the table. Quatre sat up, and rubbed at his eyes. Trying to rid them off the last traces of sleep. Trowa went and locked the door back. When he turned around Quatre smiled tentatively up at him. Trowa hesitated for a moment, but then melted under Quatre's gaze, and smiled back.
The blonde attempted to wiggle off the bed. The tall Captain saw his little one struggling, since his hands were still tied. Trowa walked to the bed, and leaned over Quatre. Their faces were inches apart. They froze, neither one wanting to move, both hoping the other would close the tiny gap, and initiate the kiss they both wanted. Their heart rates accelerated.
The pirate put his hands on the smaller boy's waist, and lifted him to his feet. They stood there, only air separating them, but it may as well have been the entire ocean. They were both too scared to make the first move. Finally the moment stretched into uncomfortableness, and Trowa ushered his little one to the table.
Once Quatre was seated, he pulled the lid off the steaming tray. It wasn't anything fancy, they had been at sea for sometime, and most of their rations had been used. They would stock up in the next port. There was some sort of stew, a loaf of thick, brown bread, and the wine. Quatre's stomach rumbled in appreciation. He blushed, and quietly thanked Trowa as the boy handed him a bowl.
They ate in silence. Not awkwardly, but more comfortingly. Right then it was enough for them to just be together, sharing a meal. Quatre had a little difficulty handling the spoon, but he managed well enough.
Trowa smiled to himself. He was going to offer to untie the boy, but the blonde looked so sweetly adorable trying to feed himself. He couldn't resist watching him. Trowa grabbed two tin cups, and poured them both a glass of the red wine. Quatre smiled again, in gratitude.
The little one took a tiny sip, while Trowa chugged his down. He had a rather high tolerance, and he felt a little wine might help loosen them up. Well, more correctly, to loosen him up. He wasn't big on talking, especially about himself...but for Quatre he felt he'd do anything. The green eyed boy drank another full glass, and then settled back into his chair. Quatre put his spoon down and watched him curiously.
Trowa looked into the blue-green eyes, and hesitated. He wanted to tell Quatre about his life, but...he didn't know what would happen after he did. He sat lost in thought, weighing the good and the bad.
The soft voice of his companion broke through his musings. "Tr.. Captain? Are you ok?"
Trowa froze. Damn his little one was too insightful. And what was this Captain business? "Quatre. Please call me Trowa."
The blonde looked slightly shocked, and then quite pleased. "All right.. Trowa.. is everything ok?"
The banged boy sighed. "No. I'm afraid it's not."
"Oh," Quatre paused,"...is there anything I can do to help?"
Trowa looked at the small boy. Yes, there was a lot he could do to help...but he had to be told that.
Trowa cleared his throat, and willed himself to begin. "You.. you were so honest with me before. I.. I would like to return that favor."
Quatre's eyes grew wider, but he didn't say a word. He just nodded, urging Trowa to continue.
The pirate stared into those doe eyes, and found the courage to keep talking. "I understand what it must have been like.. at the palace.. with those men. I, myself have.. been.. with people who were only looking to gain..," he stopped, and ran a hand through his hair. "Wait, this.. that wasn't how I wanted to begin."
Trowa clasped his hands together on the table top, and stared at them, as if they held the answers. Suddenly two pale, delicate looking hands came to rest over his.
He looked up, startled, "Wha..."
Quatre swallowed nervously, but he didn't move his hands. "Take your time, Trowa. I'm not going anywhere."
The pirate looked at him in wonder. If only his little one meant that. If only he truly meant those words. Trowa shifted his hands, and for a second Quatre looked upset. That was, until Trowa's long, tan fingers curled around his hands.
The green eyed Captain squeezed lightly. "Thank you," he whispered.
Quatre stared at him for a second, and then smiled the most dazzling smile. His entire face lit up. Trowa was left breathless in the wake of its radiance. Feeling more sure of himself than he had in.. forever.. he took a deep breath, and calmed his rapidly beating heart.
"For as long as I can remember I've been a sailor. I mean.. I'm sure I wasn't always.. I must have been something before that, but I don't remember it. I never knew my parents, and until recently I never knew my sister. Never knew I had one.. I was raised on the sea. I went from cook's helper, to cabin boy, to crew member, to mate.. It's the only thing I've ever known. I had.. rough times. Just like you. I was young, and weak, and I had to fight off unwanted advances. And fight I did. I found I was good at it. I signed on with a known crew of pirates, and learned from them."
"All the.. killing.. was hard at first. Seeing all the wasted lives. But I got used to it. It didn't bother me anymore, I became one of the most ruthless people to ever sail. Became the Captain of my own ship. Became...dreaded. And all this time, all the ships I looted, all the lives I ended, I've been searching...Not for wealth, or a reputation, or to inspire fear. I've been searching for someone. I won't lie to you. I've been with many people. All of whom were looking to use sex to their advantage. But after we.. I never felt.. full. I always felt empty. So I kept searching. Looking for the one thing I needed."
Trowa stood. "Quatre."
Quatre looked up at him, eyes misted at a tale that reminded him of his own.
"Quatre, all my life I've been searching for one thing. One person." Trowa was shaking. The amount of emotions overwhelming him, drowning him. "I finally found that person. Quatre, that person is..."
The ship heaved to the side, as a huge swell hit. Quatre cried out, and Trowa pulled him out of the chair, before the food splattered all over him. The ship steadied, and they realized how close they were. Trowa took Quatre's bound hands and slipped them over his head. The blonde looked up at him surprised.
Trowa leaned down, their eyes meeting, their mouths a breath apart. "Quatre," he breathed, "that person...is you."
~~~~~
tbc.
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