the Dalaverse

I still feel crappy, but I think I'm on the mend. Good thing too, since I have an Underwater Archaeology final tonight. Before that, I've got some Will/James for guede_mazaka, for her birthday and for being generally fabulous. I wanted it to be porny, but all I can do right now is cuddling. PG, mention of character death, title from Great Big Sea.



Feel It Turn


When Will had woken onboard the Dauntless in the past, he hadn’t found himself in such agreeable accommodations. The bed was small and cramped, obviously not intended for two people, but it was infinitely more comfortable than a hammock or the floor of the brig, or his old pallet in the smithy for that matter.

He let awareness of his body slowly come back to him. His legs tangled with another pair. One arm draped over a bare chest, rising and falling with its breaths. His fingers lightly gripping an crooked elbow. A hand, warm and broad, at the small of his back. His chin pressed to a muscled shoulder, which knocked against him and rattled his teeth as his partner stirred.

Will lifted his head, propping up on one arm. James blinked at him, the fog of sleep slowing fading from his green eyes until they were sharp and wary. Will watched him remember it all – the faulty cannon casing he’d come to inspect, the glass of wine James had offered him, the awkward small talk giving way to shared recollections, stories, apologies, comfort. He wasn’t sure who had taken the first step, who had kissed whom, but they were both shy and overly polite, asking can I –, is this..., would you –, please...

He could see and feel the changes now, in the gray pre-dawn light. Something about James’ mouth had softened, and something open and raw in Will’s heart had begun to close over. He wondered how it could have taken him so long.

For three months, James had come to the smithy at dusk. Will had never been sure if his duties released him then or if he knew, somehow, that it was the hour Will dreaded most, the hour when he should have been closing up shop and setting off for home, supper, and wife. Day after day bleeding into night, James took a seat by the fire and watched Will fill and refill his brandy glass. He never came near. He never said a word. He only shook his head when, after a week or so had passed, Will held out the decanter with a trembling hand. All he did was wait and watch, until the moon was risen and Will stumbled off to sleep in the soot. Then he would let himself out as quietly as he’d come in.

On the night he didn’t come, Will drank from the bottle of rum he’d hidden beneath a floorboard. Jack showed up just as he reached the bottom, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him until his eyes rolled back in his sockets, then sank to the dirt floor and held him in stiff arms as he wept. It took three days for Jack to accept Will’s refusal to sail out with him. It was another two days after that when the commodore stopped by, in bright afternoon rather than twilight. By then Will had gone to the cemetary for the first time since the funeral and made what little peace he had managed to grasp, at least enough so that lying in James’ arms, he felt no burn from the wedding ring on his left hand.

“I thought you would be gone,” James said softly, brushing his fingertips over Will’s cheekbone. “The moment I got word of the Black Pearl’s hasty departure, I resigned myself to your leaving with Sparrow.”

He dropped his head onto James’ breast. “I wanted to,” he confessed. James combed tangles out of his hair, palm curving around his ear. “It would have been easier, I think, leaving this place and everything it means behind.”

“And yet...?” James prompted, after a long pause. His hand had gone still at the base of Will’s skull.

Will kissed the skin chilled by his sigh. “And yet even as I considered it, I remembered that while life with Elizabeth was many things, it was never easy. If it had been, I would not have fought so hard to gain it, nor would I have needed what you did for me.”

“I didn’t do anything. It was him who spoke to you, got you to leave the dark.”

A sea breeze came through the open porthole window, rifling the maps spread over the desk. Will pulled the sheet up around them both. “Perhaps, but I never would have listened to Jack if not for you.”

James’ embrace tightened and his lips fell to Will’s brow. “I watched you lose her from a distance. I could not leave you to lose yourself as well.”

“Then you had better continue to keep a close watch on me,” said Will, craning his neck to meet the smile breaking tentatively across the somber face. For the first time in too long, Will smiled back without feeling his lungs contract with guilt. James caught his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissed the golden band. More than once Will had wanted to take it off, but in the end he was glad that it remained, like the shadow that was always with him, even now. For a moment he wondered if he had led the shadow here or if he had followed it, but James' mouth was soft and wet, his body moving restlessly beneath a gentle touch, and Will soon forgot to be anything but grateful.