Author's notes I: This fic is inspired by the romance novel "The Captain's Lover" by Inka Loreen Minden. If you speak German, go and read it, it's full of shiny and sparkly gaaaaay (Also, a lot cheesier than this story is going to be.) .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・°
Chapter 1: The captive from Bridgetown
Captain Arthur Kirkland tried his best to make his way through the crowd of people, searching for his chief officer. His frigate was perfectly ready to sail if it wasn't for stupid Francis Bonnefoy who once again couldn't be found anywhere. He was probably getting shitfaced or having fun with a whore in some bar here in Bridgetown. Most likely both. Arthur knew Francis long enough to be familiar with the chief officers passion for pretty girls from all over the world. Not that this was not what was to be expected when you chartered a Frenchman.
The merciless heat of Barbados made the captain suffer. He was really looking forward to sailing back to cold and rainy England. It wasn't that he hated heat or people or noise per se, but there was simply too much of it here. On the high seas he would be better. Tasting the salty air on his tongue, not being molested by intrusive merchants, being alone with only his ship and his crew. Good men, all of them, except –
"Bloody hell, Bonnefoy!" Arthur cursed. Where was that guy? Maybe he should whip him. Tie that man to the mast and whip him. The thought of the naked chief officer being tied to the mast fascinated Arthur to an embarrassing degree and he tried his best to push it aside. He'd long known that there was something wrong to him, that the strumpets in the bars did not interest him in the least and that he much preferred to watch men work, to see their topless and sweaty bodies move under the sun.
Sometimes he wondered whether his unhealthy preferences would forever stop him from having a family or even just a normal relationship with someone. He strongly suspected that this would indeed be the case.
Sweat was running down Arthurs forehead. His tricorn and his heavy coat, combined with knee breaches and heavy leather boots did not help fighting the heat at all. He wanted to leave this place!
"Good day, Sir." He heard a deep voice next to him. "Would you follow me? I may have just what you are looking for."
The Captain eyed the man that had approached him suspiciously. He was tall and unkempt and was gesticulating for Arthur to follow him into a side street. Who was he? Did he know Bonnefoy? It wouldn't be the first dubious acquaintance the chief officer had ever made.
Arthur decided to follow the man but remained wary. They reached a big covered wagon and just when Arthur was about to leave because the man obviously was just another merchant trying to make the Captain spend too much money on useless stuff, he caught a glimpse of what exactly was in the wagon.
He shuddered. Inside the stuffy vehicle were women and girls of different skin colors, most of them probably from Africa. They were chained to each other and anxiously looking up to him.
Arthur felt the anger rising within him. How dare that guy! Slavery was prohibited for a few years now and still that man was offering him slaves as if –
At that moment, a head of blonde hair caught the Captain's eye. There was a young man in the back corner of the wagon, whom he wouldn't even have noticed if he had not moved in this exact moment. His golden hair reflected the dim light that shone through the wagon's cover.
The boy was awfully dirty, but Arthur immediately recognized his features. Could it be…? He had seen this face before and after two more seconds of thinking about it, he knew where: It had been printed on wanted posters that had been all over the city of London a few months ago. Obviously that boy had been on a trip to explore the British colonies and gone lost at some point. He was an American, but a part of his family currently resided in London. And a rich part of the family it seemed to be: The reward offered for bringing the boy back had been amazingly high. Arthur was sure he even had one of the wanted posters somewhere on board of his ship. For a sailor it often proved useful to know who was wanted in London for which reasons.
Right now just looking at the boy broke the captain's heart. His skin was sunburned everywhere and already peeling off on his shoulders. The lips were cracked and he seemed close to fainting. Every single rib was visible and it made Arthur wonder how long the slave trader had kept him like this.
The American opened his swollen eyelids for a few seconds and his gaze met Arthur's. The sheer intensity of it made his heart beat faster. The boy's body may have been abused but in his eyes Arthur could see a will of iron. His soul was not broken at all. He was the kind of guy that was going to kill his tormentor one day.
Slowly, Arthur turned to the trader. "How much is the blonde guy?" He tried to make his voice sound calm and put as much authority in it as he could.
"That one? Oh, he's not for sale."
"I can hardly believe that. There's a price for every one of them. Tell me his."
"One hundred Pound and he is yours, Englishman." The merchant grinned, showing his bad teeth. He seemed convinced that the other would not be willing to pay that much for the man in the wagon.
"A hundred Pound for this nearly starved boy?" The captain tried to sound indignant. "That's sheer usury!" He had to bargain, as he did not have such a high amount of money with him. "Where did you get him from, anyways?"
The merchant's eyes went wide and he quickly looked away while scratching the stubble on his chin. "Not sure about that. Bought him from some fishermen, but I don't know where they got him." The man seemed to know about the punishment for slave trading and it was obvious that he now started to feel uneasy about the captain's behavior.
Arthur had to be quick. He had to get the boy out of this, before the trader got a chance to get away, so he changed the subject quickly.
"He looks sick." He continued bargaining. "He's probably going to die soon anyways." The captive really looked far from healthy, but Arthur hoped he'd be better as soon as he got some food, water and rest. However, when he noticed his feet, he felt his heart sink. In order to preserve the American's actually quite pretty body, his cruel master had only whipped the soles of the feet. And how thorough he had been with that. They were striae all over them, scabs and fresh blood being visible as well. Maybe the poor guy would never be able to walk without pain again.
It made Arthur sick and he had to pull himself together so he wouldn't kill the disgusting slave trader at the spot. He would leave it to the local authorities to do that job.
The captain glanced at the other captives in the wagon, who looked just as bad. He would have saved them all, if he only had been able to. Slavery had been abolished in many parts of the world by now, even in the colonies, but there were still people who were sold as cheap workers. They had to drudge on farms and plantations here in order to produce export goods for England. Barbados was famous for its sugar cane and syrups. The trader would be hanged if the officials of this place found out about his business.
"My dear Captain, I can assure you that this fellow is in perfectly good health. " the unkempt man tried to mollify him, but he looked insecure now, his eyes scanning the blonde boy's naked body. The captive now tried to open his eyes and look at them. He probably even attempted to say a few words, but he didn't manage.
"Besides…" the man lowered his voice, so that only Arthur could hear him "he's still untouched. If you want a tight hole…."
"You're gonna hand me a certificate for that or what." Arthur interrupted him harshly. Did he really look as if he wanted the boy for his bed? Well, he'd play along then. If the other man found out about the reward for brining the American back, he'd probably try and pocket the money by himself. "That guy is definitely not worth any more than 50 Pound."
Arthur held his breath, waiting for the slave trader to make a decision. Finally the man nodded, greedily took the money, opened the wagon, dragged the young man out of it and threw him right into the Captains arms.
"There you go, he's yours now. He caused too much trouble anyways. You'll have to be rough with him if you want to be his master." He handed his customer a little bag. "That's an extra just for you, Sir. Put it into his food and he's going to be as meek as a lamb afterwards."
Wordlessly Arthur took it and pulled the poor young man close. He was a bit taller than the Captain himself and there was heat radiating from him. The American had now fixed his eyes on Arthur. They were of a light shade of blue, but there was a dark fire burning in them and the intensive look made the seafarer feel lost. The trader had been right. That one definitely was a troublemaker.
"Can you walk?" Arthur asked. He got a mere nod for an answer. He could still feel the other's glare. The poor boy probably debated whether he should come with this stranger or try and flee.
Now that the captain could see him from such a close perspective he looked even more attractive. His shoulders were broad and even though he was nearly starved right now, there were still a lot of nicely arranged muscles on him. Arthur cursed inwardly – he would have a hard time trying not to shamelessly stare at this handsome body during their journey back to England. Suddenly he had to resist the violent urge to put one of his hands on the boy's well shaped bottom.
"Don't be afraid. I am going to take you back to London." He let the young man know quietly. The trader, who was already busying himself getting his wagon ready for leaving, didn't hear it.
Arthur draped his own coat across the other's shoulders, so that the sun wouldn't continue to burn his skin and his naked body wouldn't be that exposed to others. The boy seemed to be used to being naked though, as he hardly seemed to care. But maybe he was just too numb right now. "Thank … thank y – you." He stuttered. The Captain suddenly felt very hot at that and after nodding towards the disgusting trader one last time he started to make the man walk away immediately.
Nobody paid any attention to them as they made their way through the streets of Bridgetown. Only after a few minutes they were approached by a man with long, wavy blonde hair.
"Bonnefoy! Finally!" Arthur cried, when he spotted his bewildered first officer. "Quick! Make yourself useful and help me with this man!"
While they were making combined efforts helping the American to move through the masses of people around them, Arthur quickly informed Francis about the origins of the boy.
"The American with the wealthy English relatives?" The First Officer seemed to remember him. "What was his name again? Johnson? Jones? Something like that…"
At the sound of his name, the boy lifted his head up a bit and looked at Francis for the first time. "Jones." He managed to confirm in a raspy voice. "May I … drink something?" he continued, now obviously at the limits of his strength.
"Of course." Arthur said quickly and the two seafarers lead the boy behind the houses of the merchants, where a small stream made its way towards the sea. No human being was in sight. It was strange how fast you could go from a lively marketplace to quiet places like this.
They let go of Jones, who immediately shrugged off Arthur's coat in a clumsy way, stumbled into the water and started drinking greedily.
Arthur immediately went after him, not caring about his shoes getting soaked. "Slowly, boy, or otherwise your stomach is going to revolt."
And sure enough the American's body soon seemed to cramp and he sank down on his knees, only his head now above the surface of the water. Arthur immediately grabbed his shoulders, keeping the boy from drowning. He turned towards Francis, who was still standing nearby and watching curiously.
"Bonnefoy, go to the ship and tell everybody that there will be a delay of our departure. Inform our ship's doctor about this patient that's coming his way, so he can prepare. And when you're done, go and inform the authorities about the trader!"
"Aye, Sir." The first officer saluted and was gone right away.
In the meantime, Jones had started to relax again and was now leaning against Arthur, breathing deeply, his eyes closed. The feeling of the young man's body against his own made the Captain's intestines flutter. How fast the boy had come to trust him. Somehow it made him feel embarrassed.
The seafarer put a caring hand on the former slave's forehead. "You're having a fever, boy! But don't worry, my ship's doctor is soon going to take care of you."
The younger one started mumbling again. "Thank… thank you… so much. I… god… thank you… help." The poor guy was obviously very thankful and Arthur wondered, what the hell the cruel trader might have done to him.
"Sush, it's going to be alright." Arthur tried to soothe the boy and suddenly started to wash him. He simply had to touch the other's body, had to run his hands across the reddened shoulders and through the blonde hair, trying to cool down his awfully high temperature.
He put a hand full of water to the boy's mouth. "Drink some more."
Jones obeyed and nuzzled Arthurs hand afterwards. He sighed. "Goooood."
He seemed to love the care the captain took of him. He wondered how long the poor guy had been at the slave trader's mercy. How much abuse he'd had to take, how much he had been humiliated. Arthur tried his best not to think about what might have been done to the poor boy.
"I'm so tired…" Jones mumbled.
Arthur quickly put one of his forearms under his knees while placing the other one on his back. He lifted him up and carried him out of the water bridal style.
He put him down once they had gotten out of the water in order to help him put on the coat again. It was only now, when Jones had finally gotten rid of all the dirt and sweat that had covered his body, that Arthur noticed the complete lack of body hair on him. Someone had shaved the boy thoroughly, even his armpits and crotch were hairless.
The captain had to swallow hard as he shyly admired the young man's penis that had been reddened by the harsh sun as well. Never before he'd had the opportunity to watch another man's member that extensively.
Sometimes, during his shore leaves, Arthur had met up with other men who had similar preferences as himself. However, he'd never gotten to see much of their bodies, as he preferred to do certain things under the cover of darkness. That way, he'd found out about himself not being the only one possessed by those ungodly desires, but they'd never done anything more than use their hands to satisfy each other's needs.
In the mornings after, he'd always consequently avoided having to look at himself in the mirror. His actions made him feel so dirty, so guilty, and he was afraid that his crew could guess what he'd done just by looking at him.
He sighed at the thought and lifted Jones up again, this time placing him over his shoulder like a bag. He took the way alongside the creek to make his way to the harbor. He could move much faster here because no people were in his way. Besides, nobody had to see that exposed young man, on whose naked thigh Arthur had now put one of his hands in order to keep him from falling off his shoulder.
Author's notes II: If I made any grammatical mistakes or if I accidentally made Arthur speak American English please point it out to me. (Same goes for any other mistakes.) Also, I really, really like reviews. Just saying.