Nathaniel looked up from the dagger he turned over in his hands. He sat perched cross-legged on Hawk’s too-hard bed, where he was trying to catch the cross breeze through the open stern windows. “Thinking that I don’t know how to use it. And I should learn.”
Hawk stood on the threshold, key in hand, dark sleeves rolled to his elbows, sweat glistening in the hollow of his exposed throat. The gold-tipped boots were on his feet, even though the day was sticky and hot.
He closed the door with his foot, then looked to the open chest on the floor. Then back again at Nathaniel, his expression hardening. “I didn’t leave that unlocked.”
“No. I worked out how to pick it.” He nodded to the desk as he scratched at his bare chest. He hadn’t bothered putting his shirt back on after applying the poultice to his shoulder, which was much improved. “Found a pin in there.”
“A pin? From what?”
“No idea. But eventually I poked it in the lock just the right way, and it opened.”
Hawk’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. “And you’re just…telling me all this?” He glanced at the door. “Do I have to set up a barricade?”
“Where would I go? Aside from up on deck for air. Really, I’m freer in this room than I’ve ever been.”
“Is that so?” Hawk set his hands on his hips.
“It is.” He shrugged. “You see me as I am. A sodomite.
A simpleton.”
“You’re not—” Hawk pressed his lips into a thin line and strode to the chest to slam the lid, boots thudding. He didn’t lock it. “I should punish you for this. Cut off your rations for a day or two.”
But you won’t. Nathaniel simply said, “Hmm,” still weighing the dagger. For the past day and a half, since he’d gotten so spectacularly drunk and sick, Hawk had pestered him to take enough water and eat.
At least the ship had taken on fresh food in Nassau, although the stronger spices hadn’t done his recovering stomach any favors. Eventually he’d had some lovely warm, clear broth that he suspected Hawk had requested for him specially.
Nathaniel had also slept in Hawk’s bed again, instead of being banished to the corner. More than that, he’d slept nestled in Hawk’s arms even though they hadn’t sought pleasure.
Part of Nathaniel wanted to confront Hawk and assert his flourishing belief that Hawk wouldn’t harm him, no matter what became of the ransom. That he wasn’t a monster without feeling, and that he felt for Nathaniel in particular.
But he was leery of rupturing and unraveling the intimacy that grew between them like climbing vines, curling and seeking. He must wait until they were wound too tightly to deny.
“What are you smiling about?”
He said, “Nothing,” but didn’t try to wipe away his grin. “Will you teach me? How to use this?”
Hawk snorted and opened his log with a sneer. “So you can gut me with it? I think not.”
“Surely you don’t imagine me that quick of a study? Of course, I did win our bet about the knots. Speaking of wagers, I still haven’t received my reward for correctly predicting you’d need stitches to close that wound.”
“You’ll get your run soon enough,” Hawk grumbled, dipping his quill in ink and bending his head to the pages.
“If I don’t, will you suck my cock again in recompense?”
Hawk jerked his head up, and then—there. Along with an incredulous laugh, Nathaniel spied a true smile, twin creases in his cheeks, the wrinkles around his blue eyes fanning out, teeth gleaming white, but not with a feral edge. No, it was all gentle and genuine, and Nathaniel imagined he was the only one gifted that sight.
Hawk’s smile turned sly, one side of his mouth tugging up, his voice dropping. “Did you like it?”
“You know I did.” His prick stirred at the memory of the wet, perfect pressure of Hawk’s mouth, lips and tongue teasing relentlessly. A torment he’d wanted never to end.
More than that, the sight of his cock disappearing between Hawk’s lips, being serviced in such a way—with tenderness and intensity, Hawk’s only goal seeming to be Nathaniel’s release—had been something he’d never dared dream of.
“Mmm.” Hawk watched him, quill still in hand, dripping ink.
Nathaniel contemplated the question, then frowned. “But honestly, who wouldn’t?”
There. Another true smile graced Hawk’s face, his eyes fairly twinkling. “Indeed.” Nathaniel wanted to hold on to the smiles and collect each one like a magpie’s baubles. Although these gifts were no mere trinkets.
“Can I suck you, then? Practice makes perfect, as my tutor always said.”
But now Hawk’s expression darkened. He bit out, “Useless prick should have taught you how to use that dagger.” He fiddled with something in his desk, head down. “That’s enough talk anyway. I have work to do.”
Was that an odd jealousy of Mr. Chisholm? Nathaniel hid his smile. “So… You don’t want me on my knees for you? I really would like to taste cock again. If you’re not interested, should I find a volunteer amongst the crew?”