Look I have to work in a few hours and I should be sleeping but all I can think about is FlintHamilton and their love and Silver and Vane being pains in their asses for no good reason but boredom and 😭😭😭
It’s one of my first Black Sails pieces so…be gentle in the criticism, please <3
Word Count: 1,941
Modern Au – Boarding School Thomas x James (Black Sails)
Warning: Feels? Alfred Hamilton being a jackass?
It was late and far past his curfew. James had only just returned to his dorm after having a last minute study session for his final exam the next afternoon. He was tired and sore and just wanted to sleep.
His school uniform was removed and folded neatly onto the chest at the end of his bed; even though he had been away at boarding school for the last four years, returning home only on the holidays, the neatness his step father – Admiral Hennessey of the Navy – had instilled in him had yet to be replaced with clutter and mess. Next, James shaved away the “five o’clock” shadow that he had let grow over the past few days, far more busy with trying to pass his finals with top scores, and took a quick shower to wash away the sticky sweat that had washed over him in the four hours he had spent in the small, crowded school library; it seemed, every student in the place had decided tonight was a better time than any to study for whatever exam they had forgotten they had on the morrow.
James had only just pulled on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a plain, white tee when there was a knock on his door. It was urgent and James’ gut clenched. Only two people would be knocking at his door, at this time of night and in such a hurry.
Either, it was someone from the Navy delivering news about Admiral Hennessey; it would only be news of his death or else they would simply call.
Or…or it was Thomas Hamilton.
The thought of his secret, longtime boyfriend had James dropping the hair brush he had only just picked up and rushing the short distance to the door. He yanked it open, barely giving himself time to turn the knob, and his heart broke further at the sight that awaited him.
Standing there in the hall was, indeed, Thomas Hamilton, but it was a far cry from the bubbly, popular, forever smiling older teen that James had fallen in love with two years prior. This Thomas was standing there soaked head to toe from the rain, dressed in a pair of khakis, a mint green button up shirt, sneakers, and a jacket that James recognized as his own. Thomas was shivering but James barely realized it. All he could focus on was the sniffling, the puffy red eyes, and the tears streaming down Thomas’ cheeks.
James didn’t question what had happened. He took Thomas’ hand and pulled him close, wrapping the taller but slender boy in his arms silently promising protection and never ending love.
They remained like that, half in the room and half in the hall, for what could have been hours before James finally led Thomas into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them, and then moving over to the closet. He was grateful, in that moment, that Thomas had talked him into letting the blond teen leave a few pairs of his clothes behind. And James was further grateful toward his foster father for paying more money that allowed James his own dorm. The last thing James needed in that moment was to have a roommate who would be there to see the obvious pain and loss Thomas was suffering from.
They remained silent as James pushed his jacket from Thomas’ shoulders. He didn’t question why the other had pulled it on; it had been far too hot for jackets the past month and a half. Perhaps, he thought, it had more to do with not wanting to leave it at his father’s house than actually needing it. Next, James deftly undid the buttons of Thomas’ dress shirt as James had done a hundred times before. The sneakers were next, and James bit his tongue to stop from commenting on how Thomas wasn’t wearing any socks. The khakis and briefs underneath were last until Thomas stood naked and still shivering before him; his eyes on the wall behind James and distant, and his arms at his sides.
He left Thomas’ wet clothes on the floor.
He would worry about them when he no longer had to worry about the love of his life.
Grabbing a dry towel from the bathroom, James dried Thomas off and tried to rub some warmth back into his limbs. Then he dressed him in the pair of black sweats, the red sweater, and thick wool socks (the socks were James’). Once dressed, James placed a kiss to his cheek and moved Thomas over to the bed, sitting him down and waiting for his boyfriend to come out of whatever shock he was feeling in that moment.
It was an hour later, close to midnight, when Thomas finally let out a ragged breath and leaned forward to tuck his face into James’ neck. He was crying again but softer now to where he wasn’t sniffling or shaking.
James wrapped an arm around Thomas’ back, holding him close while using his free hand to wrap his fingers around Thomas’, trying to comfort him as much as possible.
“He knows…” was all Thomas said and those two words were all James needed to hear to know who and what they were talking about.
James held Thomas a little tighter.
“What happens now?” James questioned, his voice full of emotions.
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what happened to people who messed with Alfred Hamilton. The man was rich and had a lot of connections. And James didn’t want to believe the man would do something to his own son, but then why was Thomas here and so upset? It had to be more than just his father disapproving of his choices? Thomas had already known Alfred would not take kindly to his son dating a member of the same sex.
Thomas shook his head and pulled James down until they were both lying on their sides; Thomas curled into James seeking comfort and unspoken love. “He kicked me out of the house. He disowned me. I have nothing outside this room.” and a horrible sob passed his lips then, pushing him once more over the edge into a state of loud sobs and uncontrollable shaking.
The first emotion James felt was rage.
Of course, they had both know Alfred Hamilton could do something like this, but the fact that he actually did. The fact that he disowned his own son, his only son! And over something so harmless as whom he loved!
But more so, the rage was over the fact that Thomas was so hurt.
Thomas was a good person, a good man even if many didn’t believe he was old enough to be a man yet. He had morals, a kind and gentle heart. He was charitable and intelligent and simply wanted to make the world a good place for everyone; even those people who were cruel to him.
The fact that Alfred Hamilton couldn’t see past his bigotry was more than enough motive for James to march over to the Hamilton estate an hour outside of town and…and…
An hour outside of…
James’ thoughts came to a crashing halt as he began to think of those four words over and over.
He hadn’t felt or heard any keys when he was undressing Thomas so he hadn’t driven himself over here; that is, unless, he left the keys in the ignition but Thomas would never do that. His car was far too expensive, even for a boarding school.
If he had been disowned then Thomas hadn’t been dropped off by his father’s driver.
Then how…how did he get to school?
A sickening thought had his gut clenching tighter than it already was and James couldn’t help but let out a ragged breath of his own.
“Did you walk here?” his voice was hoarse and shaky and it hurt to speak past the lump forming in his throat.
Thomas stops crying and after a few minutes of silence the shaking stops as well. He tilts his head back and meets his blue gaze with James’ green. He watched him for a moment; so many emotions spiraling around in his eyes that James can hardly put a name before five more replace it. Thomas licks his lips which are chapped and the right corner of his top lip is bleeding from where he must have been chewing on it.
Finally, Thomas lets out a shaky breath and lifts a hand to run it through his hair as he says, “Yes.”
“For fucks sake, Thomas, why the hell didn’t you call me?” James had plenty of friends he could have borrowed a car from; hell, he would have burrowed Charles Vane’s deathtrap of a motorcycle if Thomas needed him to!
“I couldn’t. I…I didn’t have my cell phone and…and I…” Thomas rolled over onto his other side facing away from him and James frowned, lifting a hand to grab Thomas’ shoulder. “I was ashamed. I shouldn’t need you to come to my rescue all the time.”
James laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “What are you on about? When do I come to your rescue? You are quite capable of handling things on your…”
Thomas sat up, anger on his face as he glared at him. “You’re always there fighting my battles for me. When someone says something cruel, I can handle it…I can let the words slide off my back…but you jump in and you fight for me and…and I like that you do it! I like having you watching over me, but dammit James! I don’t need someone to hold my hand. I need a partner.” It was his turn to grab at James’ shoulders now; his nails digging through the material of James’ tee and into his freckled covered skin. “But tonight…” his voice lowered, and he shifted his gaze downward, “Tonight…I needed you, truly needed you to save me, and it hurt to admit that for once…I couldn’t save myself.”
It hurt to see Thomas upset and looking like, well, a puppy that had been kicked.
But nothing hurt more than hearing how Thomas was talking down on himself. He had always been so confident in himself, his dreams, and his abilities.
James felt a few stray tears slip down his cheeks as he grabbed the back of Thomas’ neck and drew his head forward, their lips meeting in a rush of pain and need.
“I am always going to be here, Thomas. When you need me and when you don’t need me, I will always be here.” James murmured against his lips, “A day without you feels like a life time a part from you. We will get through this. I will take on the entire fucking world for you, Thomas Hamilton. No matter what you ask of me, it is yours.”
Thomas pulled back. His eyes were dark and a look of thoughtfulness was written over his features, but then his eyes lit up and a soft smile pulled onto his lips as his hands cupped the side of James’ head. “I love you, James McGraw.” Those five words spoke volumes on his feelings for the ginger in front of him, and when James said the words back they were spoken just as truly.
They had fought through two years to be together.
They had survived bullies and getting beat up simply for who they loved.
And they would live through the hatred and blindness of Thomas’ father.
As long as they had each other, they were untouchable.
Not even the armies of the world could bring them down.
...did Charles Vane know about James Flint’s history with Thomas Ham? Cause like....he attacked Flint while Flint was looking at the book....how much of Flint’s and Miranda’s conversation did Charles hear?
I need...I need to know his reaction to this....just Vane’s reaction to Flint having a male lover. Cause....would that mean Vane would be the first person outside of Miranda to understand why Flint was fighting against England?
I have feels and actually managed to write something from them...
I’m not even sure I wrote James’ and Thomas’ character well enough in this but... *shrug* I just went with my feels and this happened. I was going to keep it to myself but…maybe someone else will like it?
It’s one of my first Black Sails pieces so...be gentle in the criticism, please <3
Word Count: 1,941
Modern Au – Boarding School Thomas x James
Warning: Feels? Alfred Hamilton being a jackass?
Under a read more because...well...it’s long
Oh, gotta tag @misfitmachina - Love, don’t hate me too much for giving you feels haha
*
It was late and far past his curfew. James had only just returned to his dorm after having a last minute study session for his final exam the next afternoon. He was tired and sore and just wanted to sleep.
His school uniform was removed and folded neatly onto the chest at the end of his bed; even though he had been away at boarding school for the last four years, returning home only on the holidays, the neatness his step father – Admiral Hennessey of the Navy – had instilled in him had yet to be replaced with clutter and mess. Next, James shaved away the “five o’clock” shadow that he had let grow over the past few days, far more busy with trying to pass his finals with top scores, and took a quick shower to wash away the sticky sweat that had washed over him in the four hours he had spent in the small, crowded school library; it seemed, every student in the place had decided tonight was a better time than any to study for whatever exam they had forgotten they had on the morrow.
James had only just pulled on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a plain, white tee when there was a knock on his door. It was urgent and James’ gut clenched. Only two people would be knocking at his door, at this time of night and in such a hurry.
Either, it was someone from the Navy delivering news about Admiral Hennessey; it would only be news of his death or else they would simply call.
Or…or it was Thomas Hamilton.
The thought of his secret, longtime boyfriend had James dropping the hair brush he had only just picked up and rushing the short distance to the door. He yanked it open, barely giving himself time to turn the knob, and his heart broke further at the sight that awaited him.
Standing there in the hall was, indeed, Thomas Hamilton, but it was a far cry from the bubbly, popular, forever smiling older teen that James had fallen in love with two years prior. This Thomas was standing there soaked head to toe from the rain, dressed in a pair of khakis, a mint green button up shirt, sneakers, and a jacket that James recognized as his own. Thomas was shivering but James barely realized it. All he could focus on was the sniffling, the puffy red eyes, and the tears streaming down Thomas’ cheeks.
James didn’t question what had happened. He took Thomas’ hand and pulled him close, wrapping the taller but slender boy in his arms silently promising protection and never ending love.
They remained like that, half in the room and half in the hall, for what could have been hours before James finally led Thomas into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them, and then moving over to the closet. He was grateful, in that moment, that Thomas had talked him into letting the blond teen leave a few pairs of his clothes behind. And James was further grateful toward his foster father for paying more money that allowed James his own dorm. The last thing James needed in that moment was to have a roommate who would be there to see the obvious pain and loss Thomas was suffering from.
They remained silent as James pushed his jacket from Thomas’ shoulders. He didn’t question why the other had pulled it on; it had been far too hot for jackets the past month and a half. Perhaps, he thought, it had more to do with not wanting to leave it at his father’s house than actually needing it. Next, James deftly undid the buttons of Thomas’ dress shirt as James had done a hundred times before. The sneakers were next, and James bit his tongue to stop from commenting on how Thomas wasn’t wearing any socks. The khakis and briefs underneath were last until Thomas stood naked and still shivering before him; his eyes on the wall behind James and distant, and his arms at his sides.
He left Thomas’ wet clothes on the floor.
He would worry about them when he no longer had to worry about the love of his life.
Grabbing a dry towel from the bathroom, James dried Thomas off and tried to rub some warmth back into his limbs. Then he dressed him in the pair of black sweats, the red sweater, and thick wool socks (the socks were James’). Once dressed, James placed a kiss to his cheek and moved Thomas over to the bed, sitting him down and waiting for his boyfriend to come out of whatever shock he was feeling in that moment.
It was an hour later, close to midnight, when Thomas finally let out a ragged breath and leaned forward to tuck his face into James’ neck. He was crying again but softer now to where he wasn’t sniffling or shaking.
James wrapped an arm around Thomas’ back, holding him close while using his free hand to wrap his fingers around Thomas’, trying to comfort him as much as possible.
“He knows…” was all Thomas said and those two words were all James needed to hear to know who and what they were talking about.
James held Thomas a little tighter.
“What happens now?” James questioned, his voice full of emotions.
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what happened to people who messed with Alfred Hamilton. The man was rich and had a lot of connections. And James didn’t want to believe the man would do something to his own son, but then why was Thomas here and so upset? It had to be more than just his father disapproving of his choices? Thomas had already known Alfred would not take kindly to his son dating a member of the same sex.
Thomas shook his head and pulled James down until they were both lying on their sides; Thomas curled into James seeking comfort and unspoken love. “He kicked me out of the house. He disowned me. I have nothing outside this room.” and a horrible sob passed his lips then, pushing him once more over the edge into a state of loud sobs and uncontrollable shaking.
The first emotion James felt was rage.
Of course, they had both know Alfred Hamilton could do something like this, but the fact that he actually did. The fact that he disowned his own son, his only son! And over something so harmless as whom he loved!
But more so, the rage was over the fact that Thomas was so hurt.
Thomas was a good person, a good man even if many didn’t believe he was old enough to be a man yet. He had morals, a kind and gentle heart. He was charitable and intelligent and simply wanted to make the world a good place for everyone; even those people who were cruel to him.
The fact that Alfred Hamilton couldn’t see past his bigotry was more than enough motive for James to march over to the Hamilton estate an hour outside of town and…and…
An hour outside of…
James’ thoughts came to a crashing halt as he began to think of those four words over and over.
He hadn’t felt or heard any keys when he was undressing Thomas so he hadn’t driven himself over here; that is, unless, he left the keys in the ignition but Thomas would never do that. His car was far too expensive, even for a boarding school.
If he had been disowned then Thomas hadn’t been dropped off by his father’s driver.
Then how…how did he get to school?
A sickening thought had his gut clenching tighter than it already was and James couldn’t help but let out a ragged breath of his own.
“Did you walk here?” his voice was hoarse and shaky and it hurt to speak past the lump forming in his throat.
Thomas stops crying and after a few minutes of silence the shaking stops as well. He tilts his head back and meets his blue gaze with James’ green. He watched him for a moment; so many emotions spiraling around in his eyes that James can hardly put a name before five more replace it. Thomas licks his lips which are chapped and the right corner of his top lip is bleeding from where he must have been chewing on it.
Finally, Thomas lets out a shaky breath and lifts a hand to run it through his hair as he says, “Yes.”
“For fucks sake, Thomas, why the hell didn’t you call me?” James had plenty of friends he could have borrowed a car from; hell, he would have burrowed Charles Vane’s deathtrap of a motorcycle if Thomas needed him to!
“I couldn’t. I…I didn’t have my cell phone and…and I…” Thomas rolled over onto his other side facing away from him and James frowned, lifting a hand to grab Thomas’ shoulder. “I was ashamed. I shouldn’t need you to come to my rescue all the time.”
James laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “What are you on about? When do I come to your rescue? You are quite capable of handling things on your…”
Thomas sat up, anger on his face as he glared at him. “You’re always there fighting my battles for me. When someone says something cruel, I can handle it…I can let the words slide off my back…but you jump in and you fight for me and…and I like that you do it! I like having you watching over me, but dammit James! I don’t need someone to hold my hand. I need a partner.” It was his turn to grab at James’ shoulders now; his nails digging through the material of James’ tee and into his freckled covered skin. “But tonight…” his voice lowered, and he shifted his gaze downward, “Tonight…I needed you, truly needed you to save me, and it hurt to admit that for once…I couldn’t save myself.”
It hurt to see Thomas upset and looking like, well, a puppy that had been kicked.
But nothing hurt more than hearing how Thomas was talking down on himself. He had always been so confident in himself, his dreams, and his abilities.
James felt a few stray tears slip down his cheeks as he grabbed the back of Thomas’ neck and drew his head forward, their lips meeting in a rush of pain and need.
“I am always going to be here, Thomas. When you need me and when you don’t need me, I will always be here.” James murmured against his lips, “A day without you feels like a life time a part from you. We will get through this. I will take on the entire fucking world for you, Thomas Hamilton. No matter what you ask of me, it is yours.”
Thomas pulled back. His eyes were dark and a look of thoughtfulness was written over his features, but then his eyes lit up and a soft smile pulled onto his lips as his hands cupped the side of James’ head. “I love you, James McGraw.” Those five words spoke volumes on his feelings for the ginger in front of him, and when James said the words back they were spoken just as truly.
They had fought through two years to be together.
They had survived bullies and getting beat up simply for who they loved.
And they would live through the hatred and blindness of Thomas’ father.
As long as they had each other, they were untouchable.
Not even the armies of the world could bring them down.
