Chapter Text
The first thunder of cannon-fire almost knocked Steve off his feet from the sound alone. Panicked cries arose from his crew as he grasped the railing, eyes flitting over the men scurrying around on-deck below him.
"Captain!" bellowed a voice from somewhere in the crowd. "Pirates!"
Fuck.
"What do we do, captain?" someone called out, eyes turning to Steve.
Steve's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His gaze darted around the ship, chest constricting as everyone's safety was dropped on his shoulders. "I..."
The ship jolted as a thunderous BOOM shook the air, the mast taking impact and cracking with the weight.
"Man the cannons, you morons!" Tommy yelled from Steve's side, smacking his shoulder. "Get it together, Harrington!" he hissed.
But Steve couldn't keep up. More explosions, more yelling, and suddenly, steel pressed to his throat, an accented voice at his back spitting for him to, "Give up, rich boy."
"As you wish," Steve breathed, frozen to the spot.
"Aw, aren't you a darling?" the voiced cooed, then snickered as a heavy hand landed on Steve's shoulder. "C'mon."
The hand steered Steve towards the steps that led down from the stern, which he followed without complaint, his breath trembling in his lungs as he passed men clashing swords and spilling blood across the deck. A foot made a sharp connection with the back of his knee, dropping him to kneel on his own ship.
"Captain!" the voice behind Steve barked. "Found the sorry excuse for a man running this tub."
Boots strode slow and deliberate across the deck as the fighting quietened, coming to a stop inches from Steve's knees.
Slowly, Steve let his gaze wander from those shiny black boots, up grey breeches, an embroidered waistcoat, black leather coat, before finally settling on a boyish face surrounded by long dark curls and topped with an obnoxious hat adorned with ostrich feather.
"Oo, nice find, Jeffrey," the man grinned, dimples popping in his cheeks. He brandished his sword, then tilted Steve's head back with the flat of his blade beneath his chin. "You're pretty, aren't you?"
"Captain!" Tommy yelled, earning a resounding THUMP for his trouble.
"You call this a captain?" the man in black laughed, guiding Steve's head side to side with the tip of his sword. "A pretty cabin boy, I think. Or perhaps a fair maiden playing at naval enterprise."
A snigger sounded from the pirates gathered on the deck.
"Perhaps we'll find out," the man murmured, flashing his teeth at Steve, sending a sparking jolt through Steve's insides, before turning his attention out to the rest of the ship. "I have your 'captain'," he announced, throwing his arms out with flair. "He kneels before me now, as should you all."
One by one, Steve's crew lowered to their knees, either of their own volition or with encouragement from the pirates.
"You know what else you should all be?" Aiming a filthy look around the ship, the man growled, "Ashamed. You carry not cargo in your hold, but souls, and damned if I'll see that done." His gaze turned to the man behind Steve. "Jeffrey, get below and see your countrymen saved. I've got pretty boy." He positioned his sword below Steve's chin again, this time with the point resting against his throat.
The man behind Steve – Jeffrey, he supposed – stepped back. "Captain." His boots thudding across the deck, Jeffrey seemed to head for the hold.
"And what of these monsters?" the pirate captain sighed, waving a hand to the kneeling crew. "How to deal with those who trade in lives..."
"Let them pay with their own," one of the pirates spat.
"Now, now, Gareth," the captain quelled, holding a hand up to quiet his crewmember. "Does that not make us just as monstrous as they?"
Gareth scowled, but grumbled his agreement, folding his arms across his chest.
"I suggest we squeeze this godforsaken company for a little scratch, huh?" A smug grin curled the captain's lips when his crew muttered their approval. "What say you, pretty?" The captain's huge dark eyes turned to Steve. "A little give and take?"
Steve just blinked, head swimming with everything that face was doing to his insides.
"They'll give me gold," the captain smirked, leaning in close to Steve's face, "when I take you."
"No!" Tommy yelped, grunting in pain as he was hit again.
"Funny thing, fella." Lifting his head, the captain gave Tommy a tense smile. "I wasn't asking you." He grabbed a fistful of Steve's waistcoat and hauled him to his feet. "You're a meek little thing, aren't you?" he chuckled, shaking Steve lightly by his waistcoat. "C'mon now."
A flurry of action followed, full of shouting and pushing and shoving, which ended with Steve watching as his ship grew smaller before his eyes, the pirate captain's crew cheering around him on the deck of their retreating ship.
"Now, pretty thing." The captain pinched Steve's chin and tipped his head this way and that. "I think we need a word alone." Grabbing the back of Steve's coat, the captain pulled him along the crowded deck, dragging him through the doors to the captain's quarters and shoving them closed behind them. "Would you care to explain to me," he muttered, forcing Steve back against a heavy wooden desk, dark eyes boring into Steve's, "why you think you have the right to trade in slaves?"
"I don't," fell from Steve's mouth, blinking at the captain.
An eyebrow raised at him. "Excuse me?"
"My father owns the business," Steve explained quietly, maintaining eye contact as he had been taught. "I didn't have any say in working for him. He handed me a ship loaded with people stolen from their homes and called me captain, then sent me on my way." Shaking his head slightly, he admitted, "This was my first journey."
The captain scowled. "Also your last."
"Good."
Face doing something complicated, the captain rocked back a step, then began to pace the floor, gaze wandering the wood panelling of his private space. "Fine. But you're mine, now. Until daddy dearest pays me for your safe return." Wandering a slow circle of the room, he came to a stop toe to toe with Steve and murmured, "How much are you worth to him, you reckon?"
"I try not to think about it," Steve whispered, traitorous heart picking up pace again with their proximity. "I fear the number would disappoint me."
The captain shook his head. "He'll pay for you." His gaze wandered around Steve's face, then slowly down his body, sending Steve's heart racing faster. "You truly are a pretty one," he said lowly, planting his boot between Steve's and leaning right in close. "I'm sure you could make yourself useful while you're here."
Breath hitching, Steve had to grab the edge of the desk to keep himself for listing forward and straight into this alluring pirate. He held the captain's gaze, breathing shallow through his mouth, waiting for the next move.
The corner of the captain's mouth twitched upwards. "Would you like that, pretty thing? You'd like to be useful?"
Steve's throat squeezed, nodding his assent.
"Well then." The captain dropped a hand on Steve's shoulder and pushed him onto his knees, Steve falling willingly, gazing up at his captor. "Better make yourself useful."
Permission granted, Steve pushed his face into he captain's crotch, breathing deep through his nose to savour the musky scent he found there. He flicked his gaze up at the captain again, lifting his hands to open his breeches.
"Such a good boy," the captain crooned, watching Steve intently as he took his cock in-hand. Just before Steve could lean in with his mouth, the captain grabbed his jaw, forcing eye-contact. "If you don't keep those perfect teeth to yourself, pretty, I'll be forced to return your corpse to your mongrel of a father. Understood?"
Steve nodded quickly, breath shallow as he held perfectly still for the captain. As soon as his jaw was released, he lurched forward to drag the flat of his tongue over the flushed head of the captain's cock, the low rumble above him sending sparks whizzing through his stomach. Switching to breathe through his nose, he opened his mouth and popped the head of the captain's cock past his lips, then slid as far down his length as he could. The captain's satisfied groan pushed him on, his hand working what his mouth couldn't as he began to bob his head.
"That's it…" The captain grasped a fistful of Steve's hair – not guiding, just holding on. "Good boy…"
Swallowing a whimper, Steve pressed his free hand to his own crotch, rubbing the heel of his hand against his arousal. A salty burst on his tongue dragged a groan for his chest, eyes rolling back as he let himself go, swept away on the tide of being good and useful.
"Mm… you've had practise at this, huh, pretty boy?" the captain rasped, clearly fighting to maintain composure as his breathing hitched.
Steve gave a reedy hum, working his tongue against the sensitive vein beneath the captain's cock, moving his hand from his shaft to cup his balls in his palm.
"Fuck…" The captain's fingers curled tighter in Steve's hair. "That's it, good boy, good boy…"
Knees sliding wider apart, Steve pushed himself to take the captain deeper. He could be good. He would be good. This man had kidnapped him, and already he'd given him more fulfilling encouragement than his father had in his lifetime.
"Let's see… what you can do…" the captain panted, his grasp on Steve's hair suddenly tugging, forcing Steve still. His hips began to move, slowly building a rhythm until he was forcing his cock down Steve's throat, groaning through Steve's gag reflex.
Steve grabbed the captain's thigh to brace himself, tears streaking down his face as his throat rebelled. He was good, he was so good, he would do this, he would be so goddamn good-
"Such a pretty fucking mouth," the captain groaned, hips snapping quick and sharp, balls sapping Steve's chin. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, so well behaved."
Trembling at the praise, Steve rubbed his own cock faster through his breeches. He blinked his teary eyes open to gaze up at his captor, blurry but beautiful. This pirate was beautiful. Beautiful and ruining Steve's throat with his cock.
Steve could happily die at this man's hands.
"Fuck, you ready, pretty boy?" the captain panted, rhythm stuttering. "Show me how fucking… good you are."
The moment the captain buried himself deep, Steve's nose deep in his pubes, spilling hot down Steve's throat with a rumbling moan, everything went white. Steve whimpered as his own orgasm locked his body up, conscious thought fleeing his mind and leaving him floating.
Bliss.
Eventually, a breathless voice rasped, "You still there, pretty boy?" The hand in Steve's hair dragged his head back, his jaw slack and eyes glassy even when his mouth was empty. "C'mon now." The captain tapped his softening cock against Steve's lower lip. "Be a good boy and clean me up."
Steve listed forward, laving his tongue along the captain's shaft, obediently lapping up the mess of semen and saliva. His head was tugged back again, Steve sinking in his kneeling position, panting and turning his somewhat cleared gaze up to the captain's face again.
That beautiful face. Flushed pink with bitten-red lips, staring right back down at him.
"Look at you." Pinching Steve's chin to keep their eyes locked, the captain's lip curled in disgust. "Made a mess of yourself down there. Filthy."
Lip trembling, Steve whispered, "Sorry, captain."
Something flickered in the captain's eyes. He tucked himself back into his pants, and for a moment, he looked as though he was about to walk away and leave Steve on the floor. Instead, after a second's hesitation, he carefully lowered to his knees in front of Steve. "Why did you let me do that?"
Steve blinked wetly. "You told me to be good," he croaked, wincing at the ache in his throat.
Brows drawing together, the captain combed Steve's hair back from his face. "How many people have you let do that to you?"
Another blink. "I… don't know," Steve admitted. "Boarding school…"
"That…" The captain's jaw clenched. "Alright," he exhaled.
Steve flinched at the hand lifting towards his face. "I'm sorry," he rushed out, voice scraping his throat. "I didn't mean to disappoint you, captain, I'm sorry-"
"Stop." Another flicker of the captain's eyes. "My name's Edward," he said gently, a tender hand cradling Steve's cheek. "But you can call me Eddie. I'll not hurt you…" Gaze wandering Steve's face quickly, he added, "I'm sorry I've hurt you already."
"It felt good," Steve rasped.
Shaking his head, Eddie told him, "You mustn't to lie to me-"
"I'm not." Swallowing in a feeble attempt to soothe his throat, Steve insisted, "I liked it. You're…" Blinking at the face in front of his, Steve breathed, "Beautiful."
Eddie paused, then sighed through his nose and shrugged off his coat. "Your name is Steve?" he checked, holding Steve's cheek gently with one hand and setting about wiping the mess from his face with his puffy shirtsleeve. When Steve gave a tiny nod, Eddie murmured, "You'll be safe with me, Steve. I swear it."
Tears welling, Steve whispered, "I'm sorry-"
"No more sorry, pretty," Eddie said firmly. "I see not a man who needs to apologise. I see…" Eyes sad, Eddie sighed, "I see a man pushed into this life by cold, uncaring hands. A man subjected to abuse for so long he tells me I'm beautiful after treating him worse than a dog. Worse than the mud on my boots."
Breathing slow through his nose, Steve mumbled, "I disappointed you."
Eddie shook his head, wiping the last smear of tears and saliva from Steve's chin. "Everyone you've ever known has disappointed me, Steve." Petting Steve's cheek with a gentle thumb, he murmured, "You really are a pretty thing. Perhaps that's why the world has been so cruel."
"I've deserved it."
A cold fury filled Eddie's eyes. "Never say that. I…" Lowering his gaze, he muttered, "I allowed myself to stoop too low, swayed by pretty eyes, but no one should treat you this way, Steve. I should not have. I was riding high on the rush of power. You're just…" His fingers swept across Steve's cheek. "So very pretty."
Unable to cover his sniffle, Steve mumbled, "You won't do it again, will you? I've disappointed you."
Grunting his frustration, Eddie held Steve's face between both hands, locking their eyes again. "If you choose to let me partake in your beauty again, sweet thing, it will be amongst my blankets, not on the floor. I'll touch you in return. You'll know pleasure not of abuse, but of tenderness."
Steve blinked. "Why?" he asked, voice small.
"Because…" Biting his lip, Eddie seemed to compose his next thought, then shuffled a little closer on his knees. "You're human, Steve. My crew and I have just liberated humans from the hold of your vessel; I should… should never had treated you as less than human in the wake of such a rescue. Or at all." Gazing at Steve with those lovely dark eyes, Eddie whispered, "And you're beautiful. This beautiful human that I mistreated, but I'd love to treat you better. I can treat you better."
With a wet sniffle, Steve tipped forward, leaning a little into Eddie's space. "Thank you."
Gaze flitting between Steve's eyes, Eddie muttered, "I'd kiss you, but after what I've just done, I certainly don't deserve-"
Steve jolted forward to plant his lips to Eddie's, sighing high in his throat.
"Steve…" Breathing against Steve's lips, Eddie whispered, "You shouldn't forgive-"
"I liked it," Steve insisted, begging with his eyes for Eddie to understand.
Carefully, Eddie leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Steve's mouth. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Steve nodded breathlessly.
"Alright." Shuddering through a sigh, Eddie swept Steve's hair back from his face. "Come this way." He climbed to his feet, offering Steve both hands and helping him up off his knees when he accepted. "Here," Eddie murmured, helping Steve out of his coat, then guiding him to sit on the edge of his padded bunk built into the wall. Helping Steve out of his boots, Eddie set them aside, then pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead. "You stay here, pretty thing. I have a crew to manage."
"Yes, captain," Steve said softly, watching Eddie's face.
Eddie moved to leave, then dipped back in to steal another kiss. "D'you know why they say women are bad luck at sea?"
Blinking slowly, Steve frowned, "Why?"
"Because the men can find them... distracting. But some of us don't need women to be driven to distraction." A few more kisses, then Eddie forced himself to step back. "I shall return, sweet thing. Lie down and rest."
Steve watched Eddie shrug his coat back on and head for the door, throwing Steve one last glance before he disappeared onto the deck of the ship. Slowly, Steve let himself fall onto his side on the cushioned bunk, carefully tucking his feet up.
Eddie told him to rest, so Steve would try to rest.
"Steve? I've brought food."
Blinking his eyes blearily, Steve found Eddie's face in front of him. "Eddie," he murmured, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.
"Indeed I am," Eddie chuckled, petting Steve's cheek. "The men and those we rescued have all eaten. I thought you'd be hungry."
Steve nodded once, clumsily pushing himself upright, head bobbling on his neck, swimming with sleep.
"Here." Some shuffling, then Steve found himself being scooped backwards against a chest, tilting his head until it landed on Eddie's shoulder. "There you go."
"Thank you." Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Steve finally focussed on the plate of thick green paste that must have started life as peas pottage, accompanied by a single hard tack biscuit.
"It's not much, but I'm sure it's pretty standard fare on your own ship," Eddie hummed, handing Steve the dull metal plate.
With a nod, Steve murmured, "A familiar sight." He took the biscuit and used it to scoop some pottage into his mouth.
Eddie snorted from behind him. "Is that really how you eat pottage?"
"This is more paste than pottage," Steve snickered, then froze. "For which I am grateful-"
"Don't fret, pretty, you're right," Eddie chuckled, perching his chin on Steve's shoulder. "You're right. Cook starts a fresh batch tomorrow; this is the dregs of the pot we've been eating from for the past week. But you didn't answer my question; do you really eat pottage that way?"
Swallowing another mouthful of pottage, Steve muttered, "I don't trust my father's men to keep cutlery clean enough for use. I'd rather take a chance with the potential weevils in the hard tack."
A hearty laugh rumbled against Steve's back. "Oh, pretty thing, I like you." Eddie's lips brushed Steve's jaw an a soft kiss. "You mentioned… that you doubt your father would pay a ransom for you."
Steve sighed through his nose, poking at his pottage. "He'd spend his coin on ladies of the night, and cheap wine to distract my mother from his dalliances, long before he considered paying for my life."
Another kiss. "You think so?"
"Well, I've seen the ladies and the empty wine bottles," Steve muttered.
"Oh…" Shaking his head a little, Eddie insisted, "I'm sure he'd pay for your return. If for no other reason than to maintain the honour of a man undeserving of it." He brushed his fingers down Steve's side. "He would no doubt wish to appear the perfect father."
With a tilt of his head, Steve conceded, "I suppose…"
"That ship will return to port with my demand for payment. We shall await word from your poor excuse for a father. Until then…" The kiss Eddie pressed into Steve's neck sent a shiver up his spine. "We have the night. We're sailing for a nearby hideout, just two days travel, and there we can have a proper meal. You can sleep in here with me, but I do ask that you help out aboard."
"However I can," Steve hummed. "I've worked on ships, but only at port."
Eddie snorted again. "Your father handed you a captaincy with no sailing experience under your belt? Christ… Not a man of intellect, your father."
"He pays for whores when my mother is the most beautiful and loyal woman in the city."
Another kiss to Steve's neck. "Then I suppose you take after her."
"Flatterer." Steve tucked his feet up, scrunching his nose as the uncomfortable shifting of his breeches around his crotch, stiff from the mess he had made of them at Eddie's feet. "I don't suppose I could trouble you for some clean breeches?"
A pause, then Eddie realised, "I left you in your soiled pair… I have a spare, I'll fetch them." He gently sat Steve forward and shimmied out from behind him, then scurried across the cabin.
Though colder now, Steve was warmed from the inside by both his dinner and the sight of Eddie in just his shirt, breeches, and hose. "Thank you."
"I imagine you'll want some water to wash with," Eddie muttered, laying his spare black breeches on the bed and tugging on his boots. "Have something to drink," he murmured, offering Steve a cup. "I'll be back soon."
Steve stayed seated on the bunk, polishing off his pottage and dipping his hard tack in the grog Eddie had handed him. Just this morning, he had eaten a similar meal in the sparse, stuffy cabin of his own ship, and now he was perched on the bed of a pirate. A pirate who, by Steve's measure, seemed a better person than any of the officers he had ever had the displeasure of meeting.
How had fate dealt him this hand?
As he settled under Eddie's blankets with the pirate in question wrapped around his back, clean and changed from his earlier mess, Steve supposed the how mattered very little.