Title: Bath Water
AuthorÕs Name: Ebony LaShalter
Notice: Firstly, I send out a warning to homophobic people. This is not a story for you. Also, unless you like those Òheated momentsÓ, donÕt read this. ItÕs pretty much light smut, but it IS smut all the same. And just for kicks, I donÕt own any of these characters. They belong to...... er..... the guy who wrote ÒMaster and CommanderÓ.
A note from the author: Hello everyone! IÕm terribly sorry about not updating my other story (ÔRealization on a WinterÕs EveÕ). IÕve been so busy. IÕm battling through my last year of prep school, helping my parents move back into our old house (We moved back to Kent!), and working late shifts at a coffee house. ItÕs traumatizing! *yanks hair out* I felt bad, but I felt inspired after watching ÔMaster and CommanderÕ to pair up two well-known characters, Will Blakeney and Peter Calamy. So, here, my friends, is a little ficlet just to tide you over. Thanks for all your reviews for my other works! I miss talking to you all!
Delicious love, Ebony L
Lord Blakeney carefully slipped out of the remaining pieces of his sweaty uniform, and placed the articles on the edge of the small porcelain tub. His limbs ached; heÕd spent the last hour hauling water jugs up from the galleys and into his quarters, using only one arm, since it was the only one he had. By his nobility and rank in office, he couldÕve asked for assistance from one of the lesser crewmen, yet he also felt that it would be a weak thing to do -he might be crippled but he still had the strength to take care of himself.
And it had been so painfully worth it. For weeks heÕd longed for a bath. And now, after all his labour, the tub was full of warm water. He climbed into it awkwardly; everything seemed clumsy now that his right arm was nothing but a stump. It repulsed him to look at it. An ordinary man would look upon him and see that only one of his limbs was damaged, but Will felt that his pride was damaged as well. So many times, heÕd had to push away the bitter thoughts of truth, that he would have to stay behind on watch duty while his comrades excitedly went off to fight. It made him feel so ashamed.
He soaked leisurely in the water, letting it run over his pale skin; he sighed gently and closed his eyes.
Peter Calamy had just finished his daily watch, and planned to immediately retire to the room he shared with his friend, and the youngest officer, Will Blakeney. He kept his eyes focused on his cup of hot coffee as he walked, willing himself to not spill it. He was staring so fixedly at his saucer that it wasnÕt until he set it down on the desk in his quarters that he noticed he wasnÕt alone.
And, dear God, he certainly wasnÕt alone! The first thing that came into his line of sight was the off white tub in the corner of the room that had barely been used, since most of the officers were usually too busy with their watch shifts to bathe. But now it was indeed occupied, and PeterÕs breath hitched at the sight of his friendÕs naked upper half stretched out of the water, leaning wantonly against the tubÕs side.
WillÕs body had not fully matured, for he was only fourteen, but his small, cold-hardened nipples showed that the rest of his anatomy must have a great deal of potential. His neck was exposed, and his light, blonde hair clung damply to the sides of his face. In a fan of dark lashes across his pink cheeks, his eyes were closed. His thin mouth had relaxed into the hint of a contented smile.
Peter gawked at his companionÕs beauty for a moment, before he had the mind power to clear his throat and divert his gaze. WillÕs eyes flashed open and lit up at the presence of his older friend. ÒForgive me, Peter. I didnÕt hear you come in.Ó
Peter shrugged off the apology and quickly sipped his coffee, refusing to look at the blonde boy. ÒI shouldnÕt disturb you, Will.Ó
ÒDisturb me?Ó Will threw his head back and chuckled. ÒYou say it like I was in here to fantasize about some girl.Ó
Peter laughed too, though he felt a little uneasy. Indeed, one of us was fantasizing, but it wasnÕt about a girl.
Will slid further into the water so only his head wasnÕt submerged, and called softly, ÒDo you think you could do me a favour?Ó Peter nodded. ÒReach into my trunk and find me a bar of soap.Ó
Peter set down his cup and rummaged through one of the desk drawers until he found a box of thin sticks of soap. ÒYou can use one of mine if youÕd like,Ó he offered, holding one of the pieces out to Blakeney. His friend raised himself out of the tub to reach for the bar with his left hand, his only hand. As he did this, Peter had an even better view of WillÕs body, and the boy did, in fact, have potential. Peter instantly blushed, embarrassed for musing about such things.
Will took the soap and began to clumsily rub it over his skin. It wasnÕt easy doing things like this with your left hand, when you were born right-handed. Peter noticed WillÕs frustration as he battled to clean his back, and quickly suggested, ÒWould you like some assistance?Ó
The younger boy sighed with relief. ÒOh, yes, thank you.Ó
Without another word, Peter shrugged off his jacket and vest, leaving him in only his white shirt so he could move his arms more freely. ItÕs sad, he thought, that if I wish to use my arms, all I must do is remove some clothing, whereas poor, sweet Will wonÕt ever have such an option.
He moved behind Will, taking the soap from him and carefully moving it along the smooth skin of his back. He parted WillÕs hair so he could clean the back of his neck, and his friend arched foreword so Peter could move further down his back. Peter tried not to think as more beautiful skin was exposed to him; tried not to gasp sharply as his fingers accidentally slipped off the soap bar and brushed lightly against WillÕs soft lower back. Little did he know that Will was biting his own, small lips to prevent himself from moaning softly at the feel of his friendÕs fingers on his skin.
Peter tensed, not daring to move his hand, afraid that his fingers might think for themselves, and move much lower. Will seemed to feel PeterÕs discomfort, and broke the tension-filled silence:
ÒHow old are you, Peter?Ó
Peter blinked, startled out of his confusion. ÒEighteen in twelve days.Ó
ÒOh.Ó Will nodded and thought about the answer for a moment. ÒYouÕll be a left-tenant soon, I suspect.Ó
Now that a conversation was going, Peter relaxed and began to clean WillÕs shoulders. He smiled. ÒYes, but imagine that when youÕre my age, youÕll be a captain.Ó
Will sighed. ÒI donÕt think IÕll become anything great with this.Ó He nodded his head toward his right arm, and Peter stopped cleaning again, this time to move around the tub so he was face to face with Will.
Will bit his lip, regretting that heÕd made any reference to his injury. He didnÕt want to sound so weak and childish, especially around Peter. But his older friend smiled and looked into his face sincerely. ÒYou will be greater than men with both their arms, Will.Ó
The blonde boy smiled a little. ÒYou think so?Ó Peter nodded, and started rubbing the soap bar along WillÕs chest. Will closed his eyes and sighed softly, arching further into the hand which lightly traced patterns across his skin with the soap.
Once WillÕs chest carried a soapy sheen, Peter contemplated moving lower, but wasnÕt sure if it would be a good idea for either of them. Will, however made the decision for him, and whispered, ÒDonÕt stop.Ó His oceanic blue gaze met PeterÕs, and Peter felt his mouth go dry in an instant. Never letting go of his friendÕs gaze, he moved his soap-bearing hand below the water line and over WillÕs nearly-flat stomach. He started when he felt WillÕs hand close over his own, pull the soap from his grasp, then replace his hand on WillÕs stomach. Peter subconsciously slid his fingers over the smooth skin, feeling the beginning of a region of soft curls. He realized then that if he were to move his hand an inch lower, his fingers would touch a part of Will that heÕd recently been wondering about quite avidly. He swallowed hard, letting WillÕs eyes bore into his own as he dipped his hand lower and tentatively brushed his fingers over WillÕs moist flesh.
Will gasped sharply and closed his eyes at the feel of his friendÕs hand on his erection. The name escaped his lips: ÒPeter.Ó
The older boy paused at the sound of his own name, watching it form on WillÕs lips. He wanted to smile, for he liked the way Will looked when he said it, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth slack, unlike the usual pout it held. He wrapped his fingers around the skin beneath them and slowly, gently caressed it, watching as WillÕs lips formed other syllables, including ÒOh,Ó and ÒPleaseÓ.
Will panted lightly, feeling himself hardening more by each of PeterÕs touches. HeÕd never felt anything like this before. HeÕd imagined it, of course; he was only human and a teenaged one at that. But this, this was incredible, and he soon found that he could no longer control his body, and he whimpered as he thrust his hips into PeterÕs hand.
Peter was overcome with amazement. He knew what he was doing to the younger boy because heÕd done this to himself so many times in his youth, but heÕd never actually seen the erotic beauty of a head thrown back with flushed cheeks before; heard the breathless gasps and moans of pleasure. All of this was coming from the alluring boy beneath him. His fingers worked faster over WillÕs driving erection, pumping him each time he bucked into PeterÕs fist.
ÒOh, Peter,Ó Will groaned, feeling as though he might burst at any moment. Peter fisted him tightly one last time, and Will cried out as he felt everything inside him gush out violently from his cock and into the bath water.
Peter waited for WillÕs breathing to become steady once again, then attentively reached up to move a strand of Lord BlakeneyÕs hair from his eyes. WillÕs eyelashes fluttered apart and he stared fixedly at Peter for a moment before saying softly, ÒThank you, Peter. That felt wonderful.Ó He paused, and his brow furrowed. ÒBut IÕm deeply sorry. I was not experienced enough to return the favour.Ó
Peter frowned and placed his index finger on WillÕs lips to silence him. ÒThat doesnÕt matter to me. And what I did wasnÕt meant to be simply a service to you.Ó He sighed, and whispered sincerely, ÒI wanted to touch you, Will. You are so beautiful.Ó
WillÕs eyes widened. No person had ever told him something so sweet as that, especially someone as dear to him as Peter. Without a word, he swiftly leaned up to catch PeterÕs lips with his own. Peter paused, astonished that this angelic boy would kiss him. He cradled the back of WillÕs damp head in his hands as he moved his mouth against WillÕs, kissing him repeatedly until they were forced to pull away from each other for breath.
Peter slumped onto the wooden floor beside the tub, breathless. He could hear WillÕs soft breathing beside him, and he smiled to himself.
ÒPeter?Ó
ÒYes?Ó
There was a pause. ÒDo you think you could find me a towel?Ó
AuthorÕs Name: Ebony LaShalter
Notice: Firstly, I send out a warning to homophobic people. This is not a story for you. Also, unless you like those Òheated momentsÓ, donÕt read this. ItÕs pretty much light smut, but it IS smut all the same. And just for kicks, I donÕt own any of these characters. They belong to...... er..... the guy who wrote ÒMaster and CommanderÓ.
A note from the author: Hello everyone! IÕm terribly sorry about not updating my other story (ÔRealization on a WinterÕs EveÕ). IÕve been so busy. IÕm battling through my last year of prep school, helping my parents move back into our old house (We moved back to Kent!), and working late shifts at a coffee house. ItÕs traumatizing! *yanks hair out* I felt bad, but I felt inspired after watching ÔMaster and CommanderÕ to pair up two well-known characters, Will Blakeney and Peter Calamy. So, here, my friends, is a little ficlet just to tide you over. Thanks for all your reviews for my other works! I miss talking to you all!
Delicious love, Ebony L
Lord Blakeney carefully slipped out of the remaining pieces of his sweaty uniform, and placed the articles on the edge of the small porcelain tub. His limbs ached; heÕd spent the last hour hauling water jugs up from the galleys and into his quarters, using only one arm, since it was the only one he had. By his nobility and rank in office, he couldÕve asked for assistance from one of the lesser crewmen, yet he also felt that it would be a weak thing to do -he might be crippled but he still had the strength to take care of himself.
And it had been so painfully worth it. For weeks heÕd longed for a bath. And now, after all his labour, the tub was full of warm water. He climbed into it awkwardly; everything seemed clumsy now that his right arm was nothing but a stump. It repulsed him to look at it. An ordinary man would look upon him and see that only one of his limbs was damaged, but Will felt that his pride was damaged as well. So many times, heÕd had to push away the bitter thoughts of truth, that he would have to stay behind on watch duty while his comrades excitedly went off to fight. It made him feel so ashamed.
He soaked leisurely in the water, letting it run over his pale skin; he sighed gently and closed his eyes.
Peter Calamy had just finished his daily watch, and planned to immediately retire to the room he shared with his friend, and the youngest officer, Will Blakeney. He kept his eyes focused on his cup of hot coffee as he walked, willing himself to not spill it. He was staring so fixedly at his saucer that it wasnÕt until he set it down on the desk in his quarters that he noticed he wasnÕt alone.
And, dear God, he certainly wasnÕt alone! The first thing that came into his line of sight was the off white tub in the corner of the room that had barely been used, since most of the officers were usually too busy with their watch shifts to bathe. But now it was indeed occupied, and PeterÕs breath hitched at the sight of his friendÕs naked upper half stretched out of the water, leaning wantonly against the tubÕs side.
WillÕs body had not fully matured, for he was only fourteen, but his small, cold-hardened nipples showed that the rest of his anatomy must have a great deal of potential. His neck was exposed, and his light, blonde hair clung damply to the sides of his face. In a fan of dark lashes across his pink cheeks, his eyes were closed. His thin mouth had relaxed into the hint of a contented smile.
Peter gawked at his companionÕs beauty for a moment, before he had the mind power to clear his throat and divert his gaze. WillÕs eyes flashed open and lit up at the presence of his older friend. ÒForgive me, Peter. I didnÕt hear you come in.Ó
Peter shrugged off the apology and quickly sipped his coffee, refusing to look at the blonde boy. ÒI shouldnÕt disturb you, Will.Ó
ÒDisturb me?Ó Will threw his head back and chuckled. ÒYou say it like I was in here to fantasize about some girl.Ó
Peter laughed too, though he felt a little uneasy. Indeed, one of us was fantasizing, but it wasnÕt about a girl.
Will slid further into the water so only his head wasnÕt submerged, and called softly, ÒDo you think you could do me a favour?Ó Peter nodded. ÒReach into my trunk and find me a bar of soap.Ó
Peter set down his cup and rummaged through one of the desk drawers until he found a box of thin sticks of soap. ÒYou can use one of mine if youÕd like,Ó he offered, holding one of the pieces out to Blakeney. His friend raised himself out of the tub to reach for the bar with his left hand, his only hand. As he did this, Peter had an even better view of WillÕs body, and the boy did, in fact, have potential. Peter instantly blushed, embarrassed for musing about such things.
Will took the soap and began to clumsily rub it over his skin. It wasnÕt easy doing things like this with your left hand, when you were born right-handed. Peter noticed WillÕs frustration as he battled to clean his back, and quickly suggested, ÒWould you like some assistance?Ó
The younger boy sighed with relief. ÒOh, yes, thank you.Ó
Without another word, Peter shrugged off his jacket and vest, leaving him in only his white shirt so he could move his arms more freely. ItÕs sad, he thought, that if I wish to use my arms, all I must do is remove some clothing, whereas poor, sweet Will wonÕt ever have such an option.
He moved behind Will, taking the soap from him and carefully moving it along the smooth skin of his back. He parted WillÕs hair so he could clean the back of his neck, and his friend arched foreword so Peter could move further down his back. Peter tried not to think as more beautiful skin was exposed to him; tried not to gasp sharply as his fingers accidentally slipped off the soap bar and brushed lightly against WillÕs soft lower back. Little did he know that Will was biting his own, small lips to prevent himself from moaning softly at the feel of his friendÕs fingers on his skin.
Peter tensed, not daring to move his hand, afraid that his fingers might think for themselves, and move much lower. Will seemed to feel PeterÕs discomfort, and broke the tension-filled silence:
ÒHow old are you, Peter?Ó
Peter blinked, startled out of his confusion. ÒEighteen in twelve days.Ó
ÒOh.Ó Will nodded and thought about the answer for a moment. ÒYouÕll be a left-tenant soon, I suspect.Ó
Now that a conversation was going, Peter relaxed and began to clean WillÕs shoulders. He smiled. ÒYes, but imagine that when youÕre my age, youÕll be a captain.Ó
Will sighed. ÒI donÕt think IÕll become anything great with this.Ó He nodded his head toward his right arm, and Peter stopped cleaning again, this time to move around the tub so he was face to face with Will.
Will bit his lip, regretting that heÕd made any reference to his injury. He didnÕt want to sound so weak and childish, especially around Peter. But his older friend smiled and looked into his face sincerely. ÒYou will be greater than men with both their arms, Will.Ó
The blonde boy smiled a little. ÒYou think so?Ó Peter nodded, and started rubbing the soap bar along WillÕs chest. Will closed his eyes and sighed softly, arching further into the hand which lightly traced patterns across his skin with the soap.
Once WillÕs chest carried a soapy sheen, Peter contemplated moving lower, but wasnÕt sure if it would be a good idea for either of them. Will, however made the decision for him, and whispered, ÒDonÕt stop.Ó His oceanic blue gaze met PeterÕs, and Peter felt his mouth go dry in an instant. Never letting go of his friendÕs gaze, he moved his soap-bearing hand below the water line and over WillÕs nearly-flat stomach. He started when he felt WillÕs hand close over his own, pull the soap from his grasp, then replace his hand on WillÕs stomach. Peter subconsciously slid his fingers over the smooth skin, feeling the beginning of a region of soft curls. He realized then that if he were to move his hand an inch lower, his fingers would touch a part of Will that heÕd recently been wondering about quite avidly. He swallowed hard, letting WillÕs eyes bore into his own as he dipped his hand lower and tentatively brushed his fingers over WillÕs moist flesh.
Will gasped sharply and closed his eyes at the feel of his friendÕs hand on his erection. The name escaped his lips: ÒPeter.Ó
The older boy paused at the sound of his own name, watching it form on WillÕs lips. He wanted to smile, for he liked the way Will looked when he said it, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth slack, unlike the usual pout it held. He wrapped his fingers around the skin beneath them and slowly, gently caressed it, watching as WillÕs lips formed other syllables, including ÒOh,Ó and ÒPleaseÓ.
Will panted lightly, feeling himself hardening more by each of PeterÕs touches. HeÕd never felt anything like this before. HeÕd imagined it, of course; he was only human and a teenaged one at that. But this, this was incredible, and he soon found that he could no longer control his body, and he whimpered as he thrust his hips into PeterÕs hand.
Peter was overcome with amazement. He knew what he was doing to the younger boy because heÕd done this to himself so many times in his youth, but heÕd never actually seen the erotic beauty of a head thrown back with flushed cheeks before; heard the breathless gasps and moans of pleasure. All of this was coming from the alluring boy beneath him. His fingers worked faster over WillÕs driving erection, pumping him each time he bucked into PeterÕs fist.
ÒOh, Peter,Ó Will groaned, feeling as though he might burst at any moment. Peter fisted him tightly one last time, and Will cried out as he felt everything inside him gush out violently from his cock and into the bath water.
Peter waited for WillÕs breathing to become steady once again, then attentively reached up to move a strand of Lord BlakeneyÕs hair from his eyes. WillÕs eyelashes fluttered apart and he stared fixedly at Peter for a moment before saying softly, ÒThank you, Peter. That felt wonderful.Ó He paused, and his brow furrowed. ÒBut IÕm deeply sorry. I was not experienced enough to return the favour.Ó
Peter frowned and placed his index finger on WillÕs lips to silence him. ÒThat doesnÕt matter to me. And what I did wasnÕt meant to be simply a service to you.Ó He sighed, and whispered sincerely, ÒI wanted to touch you, Will. You are so beautiful.Ó
WillÕs eyes widened. No person had ever told him something so sweet as that, especially someone as dear to him as Peter. Without a word, he swiftly leaned up to catch PeterÕs lips with his own. Peter paused, astonished that this angelic boy would kiss him. He cradled the back of WillÕs damp head in his hands as he moved his mouth against WillÕs, kissing him repeatedly until they were forced to pull away from each other for breath.
Peter slumped onto the wooden floor beside the tub, breathless. He could hear WillÕs soft breathing beside him, and he smiled to himself.
ÒPeter?Ó
ÒYes?Ó
There was a pause. ÒDo you think you could find me a towel?Ó