Stephen plight

part 5

Stephen paced in his quarters. They could not run the frigate down, and now the ship buzzed with wasted energy. Everyone hungering to see action. Jack had retired to his quarters, and despite the way Jack had been, Stephen wanted to talk to him.

After their previous conversation in his room, he felt there was too much left unspoken. He thought they were seeing progress, perhaps nearing the breaking point, and if he could only pry Jack a little more, he could have the truth from him.

He could go now. It wasn’t dinner yet, but the captain wouldn't reject him.

He stopped pacing and walked determinedly out of his room and to the captain's. He hesitated before knocking.

The door swung open, Jack stood in his short sleeves. His hair was down, covering most of the scar running along his jaw.

"May I join you?"

Jack stepped to the side, allowing Stephen to enter.

"To what do I own the pleasure?" Jack said, smiling at Stephen while he moved papers out of his spare chair, throwing them haphazardly on his desk.

"Killick there!"

"Ugh?" answered the annoyed man, pecking his head through the door.

"Bring us the decanter, the red."

The steward grumbled and disappeared.

Stephen ran his finger through the dust on the window seal, lost in thought for a moment.

"The frigate escaped then?"

"Unfortunately, so," Jack said, plopping himself into his chair. "Nothing for it. They had the weather gauge."

"That's unfortunate."

Jack hummed his reply. Killick pushed open the door, holding the decanter.

"Ah! Thank you, killick."

Jack poured them both a drink and motioned for Stephen to sit.

"So, what do I own the pleasure?" He asked again, his nerves showing.

"I felt we didn't get to finish our conversation this morning."

"Quiet."

Stephen sat down. "You say you miss me?"

"Of course, Stephen. And despite what you say, our walks aren't the same. The way we play hasn't been the same. We haven't been the same." He stood abruptly, downing his drink in one gulp. The fire is what I miss! I long for the quiet times we shared. I long for us to be ourselves again. Surely, you feel the same? Unless-."

A look passed over Jack's face. Stephen sighed. Before Jack could even begin his sentence, he stood, grabbed his cello, an”

A look passed over Jack's face. Stephen sighed. Before Jack could even begin his sentence, he stood, grabbed his cello, and sat again, looking up at Jack with fire burning in his eyes.

"If you are going to suggest I am getting it somewhere else, you are sorely mistaken, my dear fellow." He said, picking at the cello strings aggressively.

Jack observed him, his eyes flicking between Stephen's nimble fingers and his stoney face.

"Don't, Stephen."

Stephen continued.

Jack grabbed Stephen's picking hand around the wrist, forcing him to stop.

"You came here to talk, so talk. Don’t avoid it the moment he comes up. You only prove my point when you do."

Stephen tried to pull his hand away, but Jack held tightly to him, pulling him up from his chair. His other hand grabbed Stephen's cello and set it gently on its stand.

Stephen said nothing, the burning look in his eyes increasingly growing.

Jack felt a bolt of anger at the doctor’s quiet.

"You can't fool me, Stephen. I see the way you look at him."

Stephen smiled, and it was horrible. Jack stared at him wide-eyed.

"That's what puzzles me. Why do you care? What business is it of yours who I fancy?"

Jack growled. "So you do!"

"I do." Stephen hissed, his smile growing.

Jack stared down at him. He was a fool, and Stephen was already lost. Anger welled in the pit of his stomach, a desperate, horrible feeling of hate.

Bonden had done this. He had slithered his way into their relationship. Every time he couldn't be there for the doctor Bonden had been. He had stolen Stephen from him.

Stephen, who had been his for years, who he had never even required anything from. Bonden surely wouldn't do the same. The greedy basted would take what he wanted from his doctor, would require Stephen to give him everything.

Jack's breath came in quick gulps, his pupils dilating. He forcefully brought Stephen's wrist up, pressing it hard against his chest. Stephen stumbled backward. Jack's grip on his arm prevented him from falling. He looked up at Jack, surprised. Jack pulled him up and pushed him again, but instead of allowing Stephen to move away, he closed in on him, pushing him until Stephen collided with the wall.

Yes, Bonden would have his way with Stephen, and Stephen would allow it. God, what if he wanted it?

white anger filled the sides of his vision.

Stephen seized Jack's hair in desperation, attempting to gain leverage. Jack pressed against him, sliding his leg between Stephen's thighs. Stephen gasped, his hand releasing Jack's hair and flying to his stomach. He punched Jack in the gut. Jack laughed and grabbed his free hand, pulling them both above his head.

"Jack!" Stephen gasped. His eyes blow wide. Fear covered his face, and Jack drank it in.

"I'll make you feel good." He whispered into Stephen’s ear as he leaned in to bite his neck.

Stephen bucked, and Jack's leg moved higher, effectively lifting Stephen from the ground.

He would have Stephen now. Before Bonden could defile him, before Stephen could fall in love with that damned man.

Stephen felt so small pressed against his body, the way he withered and squirmed, trying to escape fouled Jack on. He ground into Stephen’s thigh.

His mind was going blank, all thoughts fleeing from him. The only thing that remained was Stephen. And Stephen was his.

Not that damned Bonden's.

He pressed harder against Stephen, releasing his grip on Stephen's wrist, and shifted to embrace him around the waist.

White. Everything was going white. He needed this. He needed Stephen.

He bucked, pushing his body flush with Stephen's. He could feel Stephen's frantic heart. White.

A sob broke through the white nothingness. He looked down.

Stephen sat on his thigh, pushing at his chest, his face red and tear stained. The tight grip of his own hands around Stephen's slender waist seemed to be crushing him.

Jack dropped his leg to the ground. Once Stephen's feet touched the ground, he desperately tried to peel himself from Jack.

"Stephen, I dont know what came over me." Jack said. He eased his grip on Stephen's waist but didn't let him slip away.

"Damn you, man! Let me go," Stephen cried.

"Let me explain."

"There is nothing to explain, Jack. Dann your eyes, let me go."

Jack released Stephen with some effort, and Stephen quickly put some distance between them.

Stephen's chest heaved. He whipped at his face, trying to hide his tears.

Jack watched him, his heart beating against his throat. What had he done?