I wrote another thing whoops
Pushing my freckled Pierre agenda :) and also Nemo being obsessed with him. And also Pierre being sad again 🫶
At first, Pierre doesn't realise what happens. It's only a hint of a touch; a stray hair, he assumes. When he reaches his hand back to brush it off his neck, he finds nothing, but the sensation leaves his skin tingling. Next to him, the Captain stands still.
The next time, he feels it more clearly. A sift brush against his neck, between his hairline and the collar of his shirt. It tickles a little and he feels goosebumps rising on his arms. He dares not to move or look to the side, where Nemo stands, with an unchanged expression. ¶His skin feels static.
He feels the Captain's eyes like needles in his neck. Hesitant, he turns his head towards the other man.
Nemo's head twitches slightly as he is torn from his thoughts.
"Nothing... Your freckles. I'm surprised they haven't disappeared with the lack of sunlight."
Pierre raises his eyebrows in surprise. It's not at all what he expected to hear.
"Ah.. Well. I suppose they're determined."
The touches become more frequent. He almost expects it, every time they stand beside each other. He feels gentle fingertips against his neck, drawing small patterns on the freckled skin. He catches himself inviting it; tilting his head forwards, closing his eyes. He enjoys the short moments of contact that leave his spine tingling as though there is electricity running through him.
It becomes a source of comfort. Of familiarity. Of reassurance from Nemo, that he has done nothing wrong; that Nemo is not angry with him. That he is wanted.
He swears he feels lava running through his veins when the Captain's long fingers cradle his neck, fingernails dragging across his skin - gently. His lips in the same place wholly set Pierre on fire. For a moment he is convinced that this is what salvation must feel like. All hints of doubt, worry and guilt crumble to ashes in their inferno.
Later, they are small touches again. Tracing the patterns Nemo has decided for himself. Along Pierre's neck, his shoulder blades and down his spine. The nights he gets to fall asleep like this are few and far in between, so he savours every second of it.
By now, Pierre is almost used to the ghostly touches of Captain Nemo that seem to taunt him so cruelly. He doesn't turn when the wind drags its deceiving finger across his neck, hoping to find his Captain there.
Now, he draws a sharp breath, presses his own hand to the freckled skin and clenches his teeth until his vision clears and the pounding in his chest quiets down. And he continues on his way.
Some nights he lets himself fall into the delusion. He lets the overwhelming desire fill his body until it drowns him. He falls asleep late and wakes up later. He convinces himself it was the last time he let himself into this void.
