black sails drabble (vanerackham)
"If she's taken another lover," Vane nods towards Anne and Max as they head upstairs to Max's room, "then why don't you?"
Jack shrugs and sighs. "I don't think there's a woman on this damn island that could fit into," he waves his hands, "whatever it is we've got going on here."
Vane hums, considering. "No woman, perhaps, but what about a man?"
Blinking rapidly, Jack starts, "A man-", but Vane cuts off his babbling by holding up a hand.
"Yes, Jack, a man." Leaning in, Vane doesn't break eye contact as he says, "I know Bonny fucks you with a wooden cock, and that makes me wonder if you've ever taken a real one."
It's a rare moment when Jack Rackham is lost for fucking words, and Vane grins, pleased with himself.
"I'm sure you haven't on our ship. I would know. But how about before that, Jack? Before you met Anne." Vane licks his lips. "When you were a soft tailor's son. Before your skin was ever chafed by the sea breeze or stained with blood."
Jack gulps audibly, and Vane's grin grows even larger. He wants to move even closer to Jack, but he won't. Jack will come to him.
"I- well, that is-, that is to say that I, um, I have... not." Jack's eyes dart away from Vane, to the floor and back up again. He takes a steadying breath and continues, "But. But I have... thought of it."
They are in their usual private corner. No one is near them. It is busy and loud, but it is easy to ignore. They have spent countless nights together like this. But it's looking like tonight will end up differently.
Vane's voice grows even rougher. Practically a growl. Definitely an invitation. "Thought of it ," he reaches out a hand to Jack, his quartermaster, his closest friend, "or thought of me ?"
Eyes wide and pupils blown out, Jack looks between Vane's face and his outstretched hand, still struggling to find words.
