send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed | Accepting Selectively
1. The first time they kiss, he turns his head away, a finger raised almost instantly after, pressing against her lips in a gentle not yet gesture. It is not a gesture to force her actions, or suggest there is nothing between them, but merely dissuade her in the moment, for it concerned him it came so close to his aiding her in escaping from beneath James Bonny’s hold. He knows if he gives in, if he lets her lips linger against his, then he will be taking their bond in a new direction, one where she might feel as though exchanging him kisses for actions is the kind of relationship he desires, and it is not. A romantic at heart, he wants meaningful and at the moment they are not ready for that, so instead he leans in and presses lips to her forehead affectionately before rattling on about something that he has no doubt she is already tuning out of. Not yet, darling, I am not him.
2. Eventually he gives in. He is only human after all and she is insistent, telling him in short, sharp words what she wants from him, what he is going to give to her, and he’s not foolish enough to deny her again. He’s seen what she can do with a blade. Beside there’s been bloodshed and fighting and his adrenaline is running high, so it is a lot easier to follow her lead and slip behind the galley. He knows it’s dangerous and could lead to their downfall with their current work, but he’ll risk it, risk anything for her. Their kisses are heated and all-consuming as they talk in a language beyond words, hands scrabbling to tug closer, touch heated skin and just indulge, forming another lay of a bond so fierce
3. When her temper is foul it is less of a kiss and more of a bite that meets his lips, but this time, he can admit, he does deserve it. What had been something of a plan had fallen to utter fucking shambles, and had nearly ended with his bloody demise if it had not been for her quick thinking and nimble blades. He lets her push, and concedes to her will, falling back into the chair as she yanks his hair hard, a yelp escaping him. “Fuck you, Jack...” she growls, but its more, so much more and he smiles at the words, leaning up for another kiss, eager to be a way for her to relieve her frustrations.
4. Waiting for her to recover is the hardest. Seeing her strength depleted, her hands a burden to her rather than the sharp tool they usually were. He knows she is once again friendly with Max, but does not ask further. They’re partners, in every sense of the word, and long past the petty jealousies that had led to his and Max’s friction in the first place. He watches her sleep, guarding her in the only way he knows how, forcing himself to silence the usually never ending chatter to watch her rest. It’s only when Augustus appears at the door that he rises, pressing lips to her forehead in a drawn out gesture of affection, one that he had been using since the beginning. “Keep fighting darling...” he breathes and is gone.
5. It comes not with a shocking conclusion truly, but an inevitable collision when the intoxicated state of he and the crew had become far too fond of in their arrogance. While stepping up to the gallows, his eyes close and he recalls the sight of her face at the bars, the whispered words cursing his cowardice, telling him it was his own fault he was to die like a dog. Never one to hold her tongue... he muses and a faint smile appears on his lips despite the end to his days drawing near. He can still feel her lips against his forehead, the first time truly since their partnership had begun. It had always been the other way around before, and it had felt final. Like a goodbye. A gentle brush of lips to skin speaking for years of time, bidding him a farewell in the only way she knew how. Even with the necklace of rope about his throat he could still feel the press of them there and lost himself to the memory and of all those kisses. Till we meet again, darling...
