All These Storms That I've Seen

Below decks Gustav began to stir, he rolled off of his bunk in a groggy haze. Too much sleep. Far too much sleep. The night before ebbed through his mind like a fractured scene from a movie, one all in sepia tones and everything, making him very aware of how much time had passed. He shook his mind of sleep and padded across the room, pausing when he got that feeling he wasn’t alone. Turning slowly around in a circle, his shirt billowed around his skinny frame as he went; he spotted the sleeping lump of a body in one of the end beds.

The cabin boy was sure that no one used that bed. Maybe the new guy had slipped into it, though he was sure he saw Smith asleep in one nearer his own. Unsure of how far to pry into this situation he simply took a step closer, eyes narrowing.
“Hello?” He asked, not really thinking. He’d base his actions on the reply.

Smith swayed much like the ship did on the rocky waves. Watkins gripped onto his arm and hoisted him up, quick firm movements forced him to perch on the edge of the table, legs spread so the Captain could stand between his knees. Busy hands raced to unbutton Smith’s shirt and push it from his shoulders, Ian grinned, tracing a fingertip or two over the pale, unmarked skin. The tall, dark haired man cast him such an irresistible grin before leaning in and pecking his chest. Sean shook his head, confused.

“Who kisses THERE first?” Was all he managed to say. “I swear the lips are more conventional…”

Watkins let out a shocked laugh and pushed on the boy’s chest, sending him to lie back on the table, narrowly missing a glass with his skull. A flick of his wrist sent it flying across the room, it was unimportant in comparison to making the blond start moaning.

Sean, meanwhile, was wondering what was going on. He knew that pirates were lusty seamen, sure – it was part of the allure of being a pirate – but still. They were men, who lusted after men? Really? Everything Sean thought he’d known was starting to get turned into one sea-salty mush. Then again, it was hard to just remember anything when you had a man, exuding danger and sex appeal, nibbling on your collarbone. Sean groaned in surprise, wondering why he felt this way.

“That wasn’t water, was it?” he moaned.

“Shut up… and find… a better use… for those lips,” Watkins said between licks of flesh. Sean moaned and, as he liked to rise to the challenge, decided to start undoing Watkins’ shirt, one hand still knotted into his oil-spill curls.

Then the door burst open.

“CAPTAIN! WE HAVE A PROBLEM, SIR!”

“Can it wait, Bob?”

“No, sir!” Bob said furiously, yanking the shirtless captain off Sean Smith and giving them both a wary look. “Jeez, Cap’n, didn’t know you went for blonds…”

“Shh,” said the girl, opening one eye and placing a narrow finger against Gustav’s lips. “I’m sleeping.”

He blinked he surprise. It was definitely a girl. The voice was higher than a man’s – unless it was a pre-pubescent boy – and very well spoken, like an upper middle class lady. Underneath the blankets her form was barely visible – did she even have curves? It was hard to tell.

“Uh… who are you?”

“A stowaway,” she responded, and pulled her hat back over her face.

“But…but…you can’t do that!” Mr Wood replied, his icy eyes wide. It wasn’t a smart reply, but it was all that came to his mind. “They’ll make you walk the plank, for sure…” he sighed. He couldn’t let that happen. She didn’t seem to want to do any harm. He’d been asleep in the room all day and he wasn’t bleeding from his jugular, so he could hardly consider her dangerous.

“Come with me. Quickly!” He urged, grabbing the girl’s slender arm and tugging her from the bed.

“Go wait outside. I’ll be right there,” Watkins said to his bald-headed shipmate. Bob nodded and evaded the room, glaring back at the pair with mild fury at being told to wait. The Captain turned back to Smith and took a hold of his wrists.

“Come with me, boy.”

He lead the young pirate though a door and into his bedroom, a small but richly decorated room with a massive four-poster bed. Only the best for Captain Watkins. It wasn’t difficult to hoist the slim blond up onto the bed, in his befuddled state he even complied to stretch out his limbs so they could be secured to the bedposts with thick rope. A small giggle escaped his lips, mixing with a groan as he stared up at his Captain, adrenaline racing though him.

“Now you just wait right here…” Watkins smirked heavily, patting Smith’s crotch through his tight trousers. Sean mumbled a jumbled reply, struggling slightly to test his restraints as he watched the dominating dark haired man turn and leave the room, slamming and locking the door. Fuck.

“No, it’s fine,” the girl said, standing up in her leather boots and smiling at him. She reached a hand under her coat and brought out a medallion, which had been hanging down under her shirt. “This is from the King. I’m a distant relative but… I am allowed to do as I like. This is protection. If Watkins makes me walk the plank, him and his entire family will be sentenced to death. Being rich has its advantages.”

Gustav gaped at her
.
“Who are you?” he asked finally.

“A secret. Let nobody find me.”

“I still have to hide you,” he said, seizing her hand. “Come on. I know just the place. I’ll come visit, and look after you…”

“You might want to do up your shirt before you do that,” she said, eying his chest briefly. For a well-bred young woman, Gus thought, she certainly wasn’t exactly full of delicate feminine sensibilities.

And then the entire ship pitched sideways, and the girl was thrown back onto the bunk, the cabin boy on top of her.

The ship had pitched sideways because Lee Gaze, having had one too many of Mr Oliver’s homebrews, had mistaken a warning lighthouse for a rescue beacon, and demanded to be steered towards it or he’d make them walk the plank. Despite the misgivings the ship’s navigator, the elder Taylor brother, had swung the wheel towards the indicated direction.
It was only thanks to shy Mr Davies, who’d had surprisingly little to drink, that the ship hadn’t totally crashed. He’d sent Bob to fetch the captain, and was now panicking about the ramifications of his actions. Of course, nobody questioned the fact that Smith the newbie was missing. For all the crew knew or cared, the Captain could have thrown him off deck by now. Or eaten him.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF DAVEY JONES’ LOCKER IS GOING ON HERE?!” Watkins screeched as marched across to the helm and grasped the wheel to steady it.

“Sorry, Captain!” Gaze replied, eyes as blue as the sea widening at the anger thrown his way. “I thought…I misjudged the lighthouse over there. I thought—”

“WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG, DIDN’T YOU?”

“Yes, Cap’n,” he nodded.

“Do you really want to be on here, Lee…because it’s barely been a day and you’ve already fucked up?”

“Yes, of course I do, sir.” I’m devoted to this ship, I’ve given more than all these men, surely I’ve earned my keep and one mistake can’t outweigh that.”

“Devotion should be owed, not earned, Gaze.”

Davies, who was still milling around, looked confused by Watkins’ words. He never really got it when people started to speak in cryptic jumbled up words, he just stood ram-rod straight and waited until it seemed safe to move.

The bed was too heavy to be moved by the sudden change in motion, but it certainly had wracked Smith’s brains a little. He groaned out in frustration, squirming on the sheets as much as his bound body would let him. Watkins had been gone a good ten minutes now and no matter how arousing the situation was, he felt it unfair to be left this long with such bodily pressures.

Gustav’s chest was flat against the girl’s. Their breath mingled together in the very little space between them, staring back at each other, both looking shocked.

“Sorry!” the cabin boy said, pushing himself to his feet, he stumbled slightly as stars whizzed around his head. The girl grinned up at him, thinking he looked rather sweet trying to find his footing.

“Quite alright,” she said breezily, sitting up. “Are we going then, or what?”

“Yes, yes…of course. C’mon.”

Gus helped the lady to her feet, holding onto her hand maybe a little tighter than necessary. Once again, his shirt left unbuttoned, exposing his chest to the elements as he lead her right down to the very base of the ship, where no soul ventured unless told. The brig was down here, along with a store of alcohol for if times got desperate and a horrid musty smell of damp wood, feet and gunpowder stores.

“You’re going to put me in the brig?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like anybody ever comes down here. Watkins has far better things to do to his men than lock them away and tie them down.”

The girl raised an eyebrow, which wasn’t obvious in the dark.

“Can we light a candle or anything?”

“No. Too flammable. There’s gunpowder leaking out of the barrels.”

“Surely all the seawater has made it useless?”

Gus stopped abruptly, and the girl walked into the back of him. “Huh. Never thought of that.”

“Richardson,” the captain said, turning to the tall, musclular man. He saluted. “You’re in charge for the next day.”

“Aye, aye Cap’n!”

“But –”

“Stop your snivelling, Gaze, it’s only temporary! For tomorrow, you’re in the brig. No food, no alcohol. That cabin boy, Wood – he’ll keep you company if you ask him, I’m sure.”

“You can’t tell me that! No, Cap’n,” he said, struggling to find his voice and hide his indignation. “I know more than these fools. Such as tomorrow, first thing… we need to stop in the next port. I’ve had word that five more men want to come aboard.”

“Why did nobody tell me about this? I’m the fucking Captain?!” roared Watkins, turning on Gaze in a rage and advancing menacingly
.
“I did, Cap’n.., just you were severely… unavailable at the time.”

“Unavailable?!”

“There was a Do Not Disturb… atmosphere,” he said finally, holding the captain’s glower.

“Hmph,” he said finally. “Fine. The day after tomorrow then: brig!”