The Ship Wars: Pirate Au
Masterpost
Chapter One
Chapter Ten: Dominance
AN
Took me long enough, eh?
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Warnings: Smut. Mentions of blood.
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Hamilton and crew were at sea once more, the winds in the sails and the mist of the sea on his face. It was during these times that Hamilton was reminded why he lovely what he did. The pure freedom. He could do anything, everything, whenever and with whoever he wanted. The perks of being a pirate. Hamilton wouldn't trade it for the world.
He already had the world.
"Captain," Laurens' voice cut into his thoughts.
"What is it, Master Laurens?"
"Ship off the port bow."
"Finally," Hamilton said, walking sure footedly down the bowsprit and onto the deck again. He seemed to spend most of his time there but who wouldn't? Being able to see the sparkling water speed beneath your feet and be cut apart by his ship was beautiful. Made it seem like he was floating. "Colors?" Hamilton asked.
"French."
The French were always the best to loot, always sailing around with an absurd amount of valuables decorating their cabins. The French always were extravagant. It had been too long since their last run-in with a ship, the last one had been a merchant ship, now it was driftwood. Hamilton and the crew were getting bored from the lack of action and nowhere it was, within range of the mortars.
"Load the mortars and every single cannon we got. I want this ship to be kindling by the time we're done. Heavy shot and then the chain shot. I want to cripple her and steal every gold piece she has before sending her to the depths."
"Yessir," Laurens turned and started shouting orders to the crew as Hamilton stared at the ship, a little blurry blob in the distance, and licked his lips. There'd be a celebration tonight. Rum. Lot's of rum. Hamilton made his way up to the helm, assuming command, ready for the impending battle.
"Laurens, where's my spyglass?" Laurens fished it out of his own pocket and handed it over. "You left it in your room after last night."
"Oh yes, I remember." Hamilton lifted it and studied the ship.
"Ready to fire mortars at your command, sir."
A grin split Hamilton's face, "Wait," he said, lowering his spyglass.
"Sir?" Laurens questioned.
He looked through the spyglass again at the dark blue hull and cream colored sails of the other ship. "Won't be necessary," he said, tossing the spyglass to Laurens so he could look. "An old acquaintance, none other than the Adrienne herself." Hamilton turned to the crew who were still busy loading cannons, "Stand down men, false alarm. Ready the boarding ramp and break out the rum. We're having company," Hamilton said clearly while pulling off his boots.
"Captain, what are you doing?" Morris asked.
"What does it look like?"
"Stripping."
Hamilton laughed, tossing his boots to Morris, soon followed by his heavy coat. "It would seem so."
"Why?"
Hamilton took off the large, billowy shirt revealing his tanned skin and handed it to Morris as well, "I'm going for a swim."
"What?! But there's no land anywhere nearby!"
"There's a ship."
"Captain, that's several miles!"
"Aye," Hamilton smiled, jumping onto the railing.
"You're insane."
"Aye." Hamilton bent his knees and dove perfectly into the water like he'd done it a million times, which in truth, he had. Just never in the middle of the ocean with no nearby land. Laurens rolled his eyes as he watched Hamilton resurface and begin stroking through the water toward the other ship.
"Signal the other ship," Laurens ordered, "Weigh anchor, it'll be a while before we have to worry about boarding." Swimming several miles takes time after all.
***
"The Hurricane is just on the horizon, we need to formulate our strategy," Jefferson said.
"She's not one to be taken lightly. Fast and nimble. After the neutral meeting, you'll have to be quick to cripple her. A task I'm sure you'll easily manage with your skill," Madison replied, tossing a compass back and forth between his hands.
"And then Hamilton will finally hang."
Madison started coughing and he couldn't stop. Normally he could suppress it well enough but today seemed to be a different matter. One, there was blood. That didn't happen often.
Jefferson looked at him pitifully, "Go rest, Jemmy. I'll have Kinloch assist me," he said, smiling softly and taking the compass from Madison's hands.
"It's nothing," Madison insisted after the coughing subsided.
"That's an order."
Madison scowled. Jefferson meant well but Madison hated being reminded about his poor health. Jefferson sending him on a break like a mere child did not make him feel any better. "Send Kinloch up on your way."
Madison found Kinloch easily, "Report to Jefferson-" Madison started hacking again.
Kinloch stepped forward, concern written on his face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fi-" heavy coughing cut him off, making him stumbled slightly, there was nothing to lean on.
Kinloch rushed to support him, "You are definitely not fine."
Madison tried to shrug him off but couldn't. He was too weak. He hated being weak. "I don't need your help."
Kinloch smiled slightly, "No, you definitely don't. But I just can't stay away from you." He helped Madison make his way to his quarters.
"Your flattery doesn't work on me."
"Flattery?" Kinloch scoffed, "Am I so easily seen through?" he said dramatically.
"I'm not letting you manipulate Jefferson into whatever secret agenda you have."
"So you can manipulate him yourself?"
"Everything Jefferson does is of his own pure will."
"Just gotta give him a nudge in the right direction, right?" Kinloch laughed. "Madison, you're too smart to be on a ship like this. Why are you here and not commanding your own vessel?"
"Your tricks don't work on me, Kinloch." They were outside Madison's door and he could support his weight again, so he stepped out of Kinloch's support and opened his door. "Thanks for the help. I'm sure Jefferson is getting agitated by your lateness," Madison grinned slyly.
"Oh you motherfucker," Kinloch swore, realizing what Madison had just done. The door closed in his face. "Motherfucker."
"Kinloch!" Jefferson yelled.
"Shit."
***
Lafayette's ship seemed content to stay where she was, Lafayette seemed to think that Hamilton would have his ship close in to greet them but after a couple hours of no movement on his end, Lafayette began to wonder. Did Hamilton even recognize his ship?
Obviously, or else he'd be under fire right now.
Was Hamilton waiting for Lafayette to sail over?
No idea.
That's when a sopping wet, bare chested, heavily panting mess hoisted himself onto the boat and lay on his deck, staring at the sky with a stupid grin on his face, arms spread from his sides and chest heaving. All the sailors near by went on full alarm as Lafayette just started laughing and told his men that Hamilton wasn't a threat, French rolling off his tongue.
"Fuck you," Hamilton breathed, "I'm the biggest threat on the ocean." Which only caused Lafayette to laugh harder.
"Keep telling yourself that," Lafayette said. Hamilton rolled onto his stomach and slowly pushed himself to his feet. "That's quite the swim. Why?"
"Because I can," Hamilton grinned, still catching his breath.
"Only you," Lafayette shook his head, a smile gracing his lips. "Men, set sail, make for that ship, take it easy. Break out the wine and rum, there'll be a feast tonight." The men cheered. "Do not disturb me," he added as he gestured for Hamilton to follow. Then he addressed Hamilton, "There are some maps that I want you to look at. I have just returned to these waters and have no idea how the British patrols are set up."
Hamilton laughed as they opened a door that would lead to the Captain's cabin that hung off the stern. "Of course you do," he huffed, still breathing heavily. Lafayette closed the door to his quarters and gestured Hamilton over to the maps that were spread out on his desk. "You were serious?"
"Oui, of course I was serious. Knowing where the enemy is at before a battle is everything. I'm still on the hunt for the Monticello as well."
"The Monticello?" Hamilton looked over the maps, water still rolling off his rivulets, trying to avoid ruining them. "I'm not your sniffer dog," Hamilton said.
Lafayette was watching how the seawater glistened on Hamilton's skin. "You want the Monticello at the bottom of the sea just as much as I do."
"Aye."
"Why not help me?" Lafayette asked, stepping closer to Hamilton, and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Because I'm the one who will have the pleasure of putting her there," Hamilton declared, shrugging out of Lafayette's arm and turning to him, "You can find him on your own."
Lafayette laughed slightly, turning Hamilton back toward the maps and pressing against his back, "At least tell me their trade routes."
"I don't owe you anything."
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"You owe me a lot," Lafayette whispered in his ear, hands attaching to Hamilton's hips. "And this," Lafayette slowly licked the seawater from Hamilton's neck, "doesn't count for a thing-"
"Like hell-"
Hamilton's sentence was cut short when Lafayette's hand cupped Hamilton and applied slight pressure, "because you wanted it anyway," Lafayette purred.
Hamilton growled, turning and pushing Lafayette against the wall which only made the Frenchman burst into laughter. "What's so funny?" Hamilton snarled.
Lafayette looked him dead in the eye, "The fact that you think you're the one in charge here," and in one swift motion, Lafayette grabbed Hamilton's wrists, spun them around, slammed Hamilton to the wall, bullied his knee between Hamilton's legs, and pinned Hamilton's hands above his head. A gasp forced itself out of Hamilton, back arching slightly. Lafayette grinned ferally, "This is my ship, Alexandre, you are not in charge here." Hamilton pushed against his restraints, trying his best to reverse the roles again.
He couldn't.
Lafayette only laughed harder at his attempts, adding more pressure to where his knee was placed. Hamilton's eyes screwed shut and his teeth clenched in an effort not to give in. That ended when Lafayette lowered his head to Hamilton's neck and gently bit down on the sensitive muscle there, a small moan escaping his lips. He could feel the lips against his skin curl into a smirk and the grip on his hands shift as Lafayette took both of Hamilton's wrists into one hand so he could work with the other.
"Permettez-moi de vous montrer ce que c'est que d'être baisée, Alexandre(Let me show you what it's like to be fucked, Alexander)," Lafayette purred into his ear, finger running along his jawline. "Premier, je vais vous faire mendier(First, I'll make you beg)." Nails scraped down his skin. Hamilton's breathing hitched. "puis je vais vous faire crier(Then I'll make you scream)."
"Je ne mendie pas(I do not beg)," Hamilton rasped.
"Toi volonté(You will)." Lafayette's hand slipped beneath the hem of Hamilton's breeches and brushed a knuckle against Hamilton's shaft.
"Fuck!" Hamilton swore, biting his lip so he wouldn't say anything else. Lafayette pulled his head away and watched as Hamilton writes as his hand slowly undid his pants and slid them off Hamilton's body, hand trailing along Hamilton's thigh, up and around Hamilton's waist, pulling him away from the wall and guiding him over the bed, pinning his hands against the mattress instead and splaying his legs apart, giving Lafayette full access.
"Isn't that better?" Lafayette asked.
"Je ne mendie pas(I do not beg)," Hamilton repeated.
Lafayette smiled, hand brushing high along Hamilton inner thigh, making his body quiver and Hamilton bit down on his lip again. He rubbed circles high as he could go without brushing against Hamilton again, making him ache for it. Nails dragged up Hamilton's thighs forced a small noise from his throat that turned into a full moan when Lafayette's hand finally curled around him, making Hamilton buck. Lafayette released Hamilton's hands, knowing that Hamilton had finally submitted, now he just needed to get him to beg.
Hamilton jumped on the opportunity of the freedom to maneuver his hands again, immediately palming Lafayette through his clothes and bearing down. Lafayette let out a string of French curses, tightening his grip on Hamilton's cock making him cry out and arch, bucking into Lafayette's hand. Lafayette released his grip, knowing Hamilton wanted it now, needed it, and stood from the bed, removing his clothes and kneeling between Hamilton's legs.
Hamilton had his hand wrapped around his own cock, pumping himself in Lafayette's absence. "Non, Alexandre," Lafayette grabbed Hamilton's wrist and pried it away, making Hamilton whimper slightly, the ache unbearable. He needed release. "Que voulez-vous, Alexandre(What do you need, Alexander)?" Lafayette asked, picking Hamilton's legs up and wrapping them around his waist.
Hamilton grit his teeth, "Je ne mendie pas(I do not beg)." Lafayette slid his fingers along Hamilton's entrance. "Je ne mendie pas," Hamilton repeated. He flicked his thumb over Hamilton's tip. "Je ne mendie pas," Hamilton was saying it for himself now. Lafayette kneaded Hamilton's entrance making him moan and roll his hips, trying to force Lafayette's fingers into him, tightening his legs around his waist.
"De quoi avez-vous besoin, Alexandre(What do you need, Alexander)?"
Hamilton whimpered. Lafayette pinned Hamilton's hips with his free hand, lowered his head and flicked his tongue over Hamilton's slit while applying pressure to his entrance.
Hamilton tried to buck but couldn't, arching his back instead as he cried out, "Toi(You)!"
"Ca c'était quoi(What was that)?"
"J'ai besoin de toi pour me baiser(I need you to fuck me)!"
"Hmmm?" Lafayette hummed.
"Me baiser, s'il vous plaît(Fuck me, please)!" Hamilton pleaded, "Baise-moi déjà! S'il vous plaît! Je t'en supplie(Fuck me already! Please! I beg you)!"
"Le voilà(There it is)." Lafayette pulled his hand away, gripping Hamilton's hips as he lined himself up. "Maintenant, je vous fais crier(Now I make you scream)."
Hamilton's hand gripped the bed as tightly as he could, holding on for dear life, having no idea what to expect but one thing was for sure, he was not going to scream.
Lafayette rested against his entrance, tightening his grip on Hamilton until he was sure his fingertips would leave bruises and slammed into Hamilton with every bit of force he could muster.
A scream ripped from Hamilton's throat right as the door swung open and Jefferson stepped into the room.
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What should happen next?
