Dark Waters Rising [BXB] [COMPLETED]

Siren

Valentine hissed as Wesley dressed his injured leg. Now that things had settled down, every pump of blood felt like a gunshot to his thigh.

"Sorry," Wesley whimpered as if he was the one experiencing the pain. Valentine huffed at the response, making the merchant look up at him with boyish worry plastered across his face. "Am I hurting you?"

"You were the one that stabbed me in the first place," the pirate pointed out irritatedly. The reminder of his moment of weakness was an unwelcomed one. If the situation had gone just a hair differently, there would be no breath in his body to speak of. He should've known better. He should've seen it coming and stopped it before it started. He had been a fool.

Valentine could not fault the merchant for his behavior, though. Wesley was not ready for such affections and he knew that. However, once he had tasted the man's lips upon his, he could not help himself. He wanted more, warning signs be damned. 

"I'm sorry," Wesley dropped his gaze. He looked so downtrodden, and though Valentine knew it was only the song that was making him feel regret, he couldn't stand to see him so sad.

"I forgive you, Wes."

Wesley's eyes snapped back to his, a hopeful glint in them.

"Come here," Valentine patted the empty space on the bed beside him. The other man was quick to comply, taking a seat and watching him expectantly. "Relax. Please."

Valentine leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried not to be overwhelmed by thoughts of everything that had happened in the last hour. His life had gone from complete control to a chaotic mess in just the blink of an eye.

And it was all because of Wesley.

"Do you need help administering the stitches?" Wesley asked, breaking his concentration.

"No. It doesn't need stitches."

Wesley eyed the gash with uncertainty. "It won't heal properly if-"

"It will be healed before nightfall tomorrow," Valentine interrupted him impatiently.

"I don't understand," he said in a small voice. It was a rather deep wound. Surely it would take longer to heal than a day.

"I'm not human, Wesley. I heal quickly."

Wesley's eyebrows furrowed, but then he remembered the ethereal voice. . . the one that still echoed in his memory with its hauntingly beautiful melody. That combined with the fact that he was still breathing when he surely should've drowned led him to his conclusion. "You're a siren, aren't you?"

Valentine finally looked at him again.

"Yes."

Wesley eyed him curiously, almost in disbelief. When his blue eyes settled again on the pirate's injured thigh, he found himself asking, "Where's your tail?"

Valentine grunted in annoyance. He forgot how much his song could make grown men behave like toddlers.

He felt a hand gently touch his shoulder and flinched away from it, making Wesley recoil as well.

"What do you want?" Valentine snapped a little harsher than he meant to. He couldn't help it though. He hated what his song was doing to Wesley. He'd rather see the man fighting him at every turn than trying so desperately to earn his approval. At least then, he would be acting of his own free will. This... this wasn't him.

"I want you," Wesley breathed, placing his palm on the pirate's uninjured thigh and leaning closer to his face.

"No." Valentine said bluntly.

Regretfully, he watched as tears started to pool in Wesley's eyes. "But. . . I thought. . . Do you not want me?"

Valentine's black heart cracked a little as he watched the man fight tears. He couldn't resist the urge to comfort him, because false behavior or not, the man was his mate. His one and only. The other half of his soul and the only person he could ever truly love. Valentine's heart was made to beat for only the merchant, and in that moment, it was throbbing as if it would burst at any moment.

The gods had blessed him and cursed him simultaneously when they had entwined his soul with Wesley's. And now he felt like a crumbling mess as he tried to comfort the merchant.

"No. Don't ever think that," his voice took on a softer tone as he lifted his hand to caress the other man's cheek. "I do want you. More than anything I've ever wanted in the world."

"Then why do you turn me away?"

"I do not want you to hate me," he said honestly. "I know you already do, but if I took advantage of you in this state you would never forgive me."

"I don't hate you," Wes said softly.

"Not right now, but you will."

Wesley didn't seem convinced, but Valentine simply reclined on his bed to end the conversation. He propped his leg up and got into a more comfortable position before addressing his merchant.

"Come here," he beckoned with open arms. "Get some sleep. You'll feel more like yourself in the morning."

Wesley did not protest as he laid down beside the captain, resting his head on the taller man's shoulder.

Valentine smirked lightly as he looked up at the ceiling. Though it had not been the way he intended, he was correct in his prediction that the merchant would be in his bed and begging for him before the fortnight passed. Content with the thought, and knowing Wesley would not dare to harm him as long as the remnants of the song clung to his mind, Valentine relaxed his body and closed his eyes. 

And just like that, the pair fell into blissful, dreamless sleep.

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A/N

If you had control over the next story I wrote, what would you have it be about?

See you Monday!
-Mora Montgomery