Chapter Text
“Don’t look so nervous,” Captain called from the front of the boat, “you’ll frighten the fish.”
Linus curled his lip, slashing his hand through the salty water in annoyance. Captain didn’t glance at him but he did hear him chuckle under his breath, which made Linus want to throw him overboard all together.
“You’re the reason we are in this mess,” Linus said, thick, well-to-do accent flowing with his words. Captain had taught him how to make it sound gruff, like an average commoner, as pirates wouldn’t consider him their own if he sounded anything like how he was raised.
They still don’t trust him, though he came to learn with startling aptitude; pirates don’t trust anyone. On a good day, not even themselves.
Captain’s hands curled around the wooden bench he was sitting on, leaning forward a tad. “Can’t say it wasn’t in the plan, dear Linus.”
Linus stood so suddenly the small boat swayed too and fro, he lunged for purchase lest he fall into the bottomless blue, Captain didn’t budge, as if Linus needed a reminder he was born into this, while he only came into it the past year. As if he needed reminding that he will always be better than him.
“Fuck you,” Linus spat, bent over halfway. “Fuck you to hell.”
Captain rolled his right shoulder, then tugged off the coat he always wore. It draped around him and flung out like a cape when he moved or swung himself in a fight. Linus was sure he wore it for looks rather than benefit.
“You know what we need,” Captain said, still not facing him. “We need a break. I suggest you sit on the other end, back to me, and we wait in silence.”
Linus snarled, “wait for what?”
“Wait,” Captain continued, “wait for me to… come up with a plan.”
Burning ice shot through his veins and he staggered across the boat, grabbing Captain by his shoulder and hoisting him up, forcing him to face him. As always, his eyes flickered to the ill-famous scar across his left cheek, it swept up then cut down in a jagged line, as if the person giving the blow hadn’t a clue what they were doing.
Then they went to his eyes, his sharp green eyes. The same eyes that sparkled like emeralds under the sun when he was on an adventure, the same eyes that were so round and inviting but quick to turn narrow and mischievous. He was a cruel trickster, a true Captain of the Sea as he lured people in with gentle smiles and promises of riches, then plucked them when their defences were down and left them to perish under their own wrong doings.
Because you don’t trust a pirate. No one does. But Captain made people trust him. And every single time, he’d betray them. Make them regret it. Sometimes, he says he’s doing it for their benefit, for a pirate much worse than him would kill them in the same moment.
Others say what Captain does is worse than the punishment of death.
Which was why many laughed in Linus’ face when he said he was working with Captain. But it’s been a year, and he hasn’t faced the wrath that is Captain just yet. And when he does, he’ll know how to deal with it.
“You mean to tell me you sunk our ship, killed our men without any semblance of a plan to get us out of it?!” He roared. Captain stared at him calmly, as calmly as the sea. He’s heard some people say Captain was born from the ocean, but then again a lot of people say things about him, and from what he can tell, the only truth is his tendency to hurt and betray.
But not, he notes, with himself. He just doesn’t know what to do with that. And also doesn’t like how it makes him feel.
“My men,” Captain corrected firstly, holding a hand up to his chest. “My ship.” he then said.
Linus huffed, tugged a hand through his curly brown hair and huffed again. “You’re infuriating. You are scum. You deserve to drown in the bottom of the-”
“They were working for Lord Matthew.” Captain cut him off.
His voice always had an airy notion to it. He didn’t get mad, he certainly didn’t shout. He was calm and playful. He’d lower his voice when he wanted to be commanding, but only on the rare occasion when he was leading shipmates. And the confidence, always so bloody confident. As if he knew all the secrets of the universe.
As if he knew the stars by their name rather than the names humans gave them. As if he could look at the ocean, tell it to settle and it would bend to his will without the notion of hesitance.
“Wh… what?” Linus took a step back, Captain’s hand curled around his shirt and saved him from tripping over the middle bench and falling into the ocean. “How do you-? That’s impossible.” Linus shook his head.
Captain smiled. His smile, to others, to everyone, was a half thing. The simple quirk of the corner of his lip, or a toothy smile, lips stretched back wide when he struck gold or, on the more common occasion, he was being sarcastic.
But to Linus… he had seen more. He wished he hadn’t, but under the flicker of candle light he’s watched Captain smile in a way that bunched his cheeks and crinkled his eyes.
And he had no idea of knowing this, for whoever he asked he couldn’t trust to give him a sure answer, but he would swear by the seven seas he’s the only person who’s seen such a smile from him.
“I caught them muttering about it when they thought I was deaf, I guess, otherwise they would have half the mind to shut up about it,” Captain shrugged, letting go of Linus and smoothing down his shirt. “They were fools to begin with, I only hired them because I knew they wanted to double cross me. All I had to do was figure out who their boss was,” he said as if it were easy, as if it didn’t risk both of their lives. As if, when they were on that ship in the ocean, they ever had the upper hand.
But evidently, they did. Because one thing Linus came to learn about Captain is he always had the upper hand.
“So this was a-a side quest to you?”
Captain’s brow furrowed at that, “a what?”
“A side quest,” Linus repeated less confidently, but jutted out his chin anyway because he knew he was right. “You had no bloody idea they were working for Lord Matthews, yet you still hired them to figure out who their boss was-”
“They came to me,” Captain said simply, “I needed to know who my enemies were.”
Linus actually laughed at that, making sure to step over the bench before moving back this time as he had a feeling Captain’s heart to save him only stretched so far to purely accidental, not downright moronic.
“I can answer that one for you. Everyone. Everyone is your bloody enemy. Everyone wants you dead. Because you’re not like them, you don’t hurt and steal in the honour of a pirate, you’re simply barbaric. You hurt people because you want to watch them suffer and when they’re down and begging for mercy, you kick them in the teeth, give them that soft look, and remind them that they trusted you, as if this was all their fault.” by the time he finished, he had sweat lining his brow.
The sun beating down on them without any signs of being polite about it. In the middle of the ocean, no land in sight, in what must be the world's smallest boat, Linus was picking a fight with Captain. Someone who has bloody horror stories written about him and told to their kids.
Someone who will always, always have the upper hand.
Captain smiled, “you think I have a soft look?”
Linus stared at him, then curled his lip, “don’t act coy. Certainly don’t act frivolous with me. I know you more than anyone else does, or that anyone else would bother to, for that matter.”
For the first time, that made Captain’s expression change, so minutely no one else would notice. Linus does, though. The way his eyebrows change position, his forehead adoring a tiny line right in the centre when it was usually smooth and untouched. And his smile disappeared. And his eyes, his damn eyes filled with nothing but wonder.
“You trust me,” he said. No second thought. Not a bout of doubt.
Linus struggled for words, “I most certainly do not-”
“You trust me,” Captain repeated, stepping towards him until only the middle bench separated them. “You trust me.”
Linus shook his head, “I don’t. I just know you.”
Captain tilted his head, “how do you know me? From the things I’ve told you, isn’t that right? You trust that everything I’ve told you is the truth.”
Linus glared, “I didn’t know how to distinguish it at first, but yes, some things you tell me are truthful. Other things I assume you throw in to ward off the scent of suspicions.”
Captain appraised him with a new look. Linus had categorised each of Captain’s looks and this one wasn’t one of them. He shifted uncomfortably, crossed his arms and uncrossed them again.
“Anyway,” Linus went on, “regardless of the fact they worked for Matthews, you went into something that risked us both horribly, and I won’t allow you to do that again. Understand? We barely made it out alive and I would appreciate our lives not being on the line in a space we’re supposed to be safe-”
“The first day we met,” Captain plowed through and Linus barely held back a groan, “I told you if you wanted to be a pirate, the first rule is never to trust one.”
“Yes, and I don’t-”
“Not even yourself, on a good day,” Captain said, some of his annoyingly blond hair sweeping over his shoulder. It curled up at the edges and sprawled down in waves from his scalp. “Do you know why I told you that?”
Linus, realising this conversation was about to take some time, sat down. Captain watched him, then too sat, taking the middle bench while he the end.
Their knees almost touched.
“Not a clue,” Linus deadpanned.
Captain’s voice went that of something soft, “because I knew I couldn’t trick you.”
Linus’ eyebrows furrowed, “you… what?”
“I don’t trick everyone,” Captain corrected, “only people I think is worth the time I waste earning their trust. I don’t tell people to not trust pirates, because it ruins all chances of me ruining them, barbarically, as you said.”
Despite himself and how he believed every word he had said, his cheeks flushed.
“But I knew I couldn’t trick you. Not because I thought I couldn’t, but because I’d have to let you grow close to me. I’d have to spend time with you, and I would have lost myself to you,” he admitted so openly Linus’ head spun.
Captain reached out and tucked some of his hair behind Linus’ ear, “I’ve never known a man whose hair looks so soft, whose eyes are so dark they’re almost the bottom of the ocean themselves. I thought to myself, I could never interact with this man again or he’d ruin me before I had the chance to beg for clemency.”
Linus’ mouth went dry. He does remember when they first met in January. In a random bar on a random street, filled with all sorts of commoners, criminals and pirates. People who interacted with Captain as if he were an old friend and not an enemy to every pirate known to man.
Because the thing was, Captain was charming. He made people forget everything he did to them until he left them hours later and they realised with startling clarity they laughed and joked with the very man who made them fall to their knees and cry.
And he remembers the look Captain gave him. The small line on his forehead, the way he stepped back just slightly before finding himself a second later, shocked he almost lost himself in the first place.
“But you kept coming back. You didn’t care about the rumours. You didn’t care people thought nothing better of you than a blimey fool. And that’s when people started talking. Asking me if I was really taking someone under my wing. Teaching a lord how to be a pirate.” Captain grinned something bright and disarming, a new smile suddenly absorbed and locked away in his section of his mind solely dedicated to him.
“And that’s when I knew I couldn’t forget you. Let you go. I thought if I kept you at an arm's length, I could handle it. I thought if I reminded you to not trust, you wouldn’t. But you do.” He finally looked away, out at the ocean seemingly never ending.
“If I can ask one thing,” he spoke again after a beat of silence, one of which Linus was desperately trying to find his breathing, “how did you know what was the truth?”
He looked at him again, searchingly. Linus swallowed, clammy hands gripping his thighs. “One important lesson my people were taught growing up was body language. Whether to trust a person or write them off without a word.” He tucked some hair away, “so I watched you. When you’d tell me things, you were you. You were this pirate sprouting the first thing from the top of his head.”
He cleared his throat, finding his eyes zeroed in on his hands, “but then the first truth you told me. Remember it? You told me it wasn’t your mother who taught you how to wash your hair, but your father. You found it so hilarious you laughed as if you were inebriated.”
“You looked different. It was so subtle I barely caught it, but you weren’t smiling. At least-” Linus chuckled, “you weren’t using your casual smile. The smile you give out to everyone regardless who they are. To the lords, the commoners, the kids rummaging the streets. The king, I’m sure, given the opportunity.” He could feel Captain’s burning stare, but he refused to meet it.
“It was a different smile I hadn’t seen before, and that’s when I started categorising them. The smile you give out, where it’s the corner of your lip quirked. The smile you gave me when you were telling the truth, whether or not you were even aware of it, where both ends are raised. The grin, teeth bared wide, when you find gold or are simply being sarcastic… the playful smile to the flirtatious girls and shy men alike, where it produces a dimple in your left cheek.” He could go on, but Captain’s hand was on his chin and lifting his head until he could see his eyes again.
They were burning bright. So round, so… lost.
“That’s how I knew,” he swallowed thickly, Captain’s touch sent tingles spiralling through him. “How I knew when you were telling me things for the sake of conversation, or telling me because you didn’t realise I knew you were telling the truth, and you wanted to saviour the satisfaction of knowing it was true while I was seemingly none the wiser.”
Captain let him go, his hands falling to his lap. Linus' heart was wild in his chest, beating out a samba he was sure Captain could bloody hear. But he didn’t make a notion of it, instead he looked dazed as if whacked upside the head.
“I told you those things,” he began, and Linus almost teared up at the sudden shock of hearing his voice waver. “Not because I was gratified. But because I wanted you to know. Know parts of me no one else did in hopes that pretending could still my yearning heart, but it only made it worse. The idea of you ever wanting me like I you kept me up at night and on countless occasions almost drove me to burn the very ship we were on,” his voice fell to a whisper.
“Because I knew you couldn’t like me like that-”
“Captain,” Linus didn’t usually cut him off, he enjoyed listening to his voice even if he didn’t always like listening to what he had to say.
But Captain continued, because he wasn’t ever cut off, apparently. “And on many occasions I was ready to abandon you and leave you to fend for yourself, but I’d walk into your room where you were asleep and I couldn’t. I had given myself to you in a way I couldn’t backtrack on even if I didn’t think you knew-”
“Captain-”
“But you know-”
“Please-”
“And I could not live if you did all this, categorise my damn smiles-” at this, ironically, he smiled that smile that bunched his cheeks and crinkled his eyes, “if you do not feel the same way.”
Linus found his hands in Captain’s calloused ones before he even recognised what he was doing, staring imploringly into his impossible green eyes, hoping to convey every ounce of unbridled joy he feels whenever in close proximity to him, the repressed and ignored love for him deeply rooted in his very DNA, at this point.
“Captain,” he whispered, tears brimming his eyes. “You cannot for a second think if I didn’t feel the same I would have stayed with you for as long as I have.”
And he laughed, which wasn’t rare. His laugh so bright, so full and deep from his chest. He flung himself into Linus’ arms and remained there until the sun began meeting the horizon in an embrace not too dissimilar from their own.
“You’re an insane lunatic for ever trusting me,” Captain whispered into the shell of his ear.
Linus grinned, “and you’re just an insane lunatic.”
