Makoto shifted languorously, allowing the faintest gasp of breath to escape him; he knew the effect it had on Rin, the slight widening of his eyes, the answering sigh, muscles tensing in an effort to delay the inevitable. Of all his clients, Mako liked this one best; he focused on his partner in much the same way he did his work, trusting his own needs would be met in turn. Rin was stubborn to the point of virtue, normally straight-laced despite his family's average predilections, and ever willing to accept direction.
With that thought in mind- "Harder." He arched into Rin's near-violent thrust, basking in the savagery of it rather than flinching. The man's demons must be riding him hard today, but Mako was not inclined to complain if this was the result.
He turned his head to catch Rin's wrist, braced on the bed beside him, fingers curling into the sheets for leverage; Rin didn't so much as wince when he bit down, licking along tendons strained with effort.
"Dammit." Rin froze in place, taking a few precious seconds to gather his rapidly scattering discipline. Just now that wasn't much to Mako's taste; it was always a thrill to push this one past his mortal limits- the payoff was without fail greater than the sacrifice.
Twining his legs about Rin's own, he arched, laughing between his labored breaths. Another treat he wasn't often afforded, the ability to treat this as a game rather than the extremely particular hobbies most of his patrons favored. It was his own fault, really, showing off his skills in such questionable directions. Not that he would be averse to teaching Rin how to safely indulge those same hobbies; there were times he wanted nothing so much as to tangle his fingers in that impossibly red hair and-
His breathing stuttered when the clever bastard zeroed in on the soft skin just beneath his ear, whispering praise and pleas that Mako could not ignore. He had been trained far too well to keep his ears pricked in intimate moments, and it was a habit that had not deserted him even now.
He fisted a rough hand in Rin's hair, twisting until he had no choice but to roll. Mako pinned him there despite his breathless curses and threats, taking up a rhythm meant to drive Rin past any sense. Matsuoka's tastes were simple and honest, but Mako had never quite given up his hope that he might one day push the man far enough that he wouldn't care any longer how he achieved his release. He had already resolved this would be the night he taught Rin to be shameless in his pleasure, utterly lewd in that way Mako knew he had it in him to be.
His reactions were too honest, technique too unschooled for him to have much experience besides what his season in the red-light district had taught him, but Mako knew a kindred spirit by sight. If he could surrender his personal qualms long enough, Mako had no doubt Rin would betray a liking for the exotic. And he would be pleased to provide all the tutelage needed.
Rin's hands clamped about his waist, forcing him to slow his movements, pushing him back until Mako rested against Rin's knees, using their support for leverage.
"Fuck. I'm going to come-"
"Promises." Mako bit out, twisting down, running his fingers over Rin's twitching skin. A high-pitched sob was his only warning, Rin's toes curling into the sheets in one last defiant effort- in vain. Mako sighed at the flood of warmth, Rin still fighting to maintain this final connection between them. Slowly he pulled away, savoring Rin's panting breaths, that furrow between his brow that was both satisfaction and disappointment mingled in equal measure.
His eyes flicked open almost immediately as his palm drifted down Makoto's front, keeping already frayed nerves on edge. "Sorry. Let me make it up to you."
Damn, but the man was persistent. Surrender was far too tempting a prospect, but only on his own terms. "I assure you, you will. For the moment, however…" Makoto leaned in, pressing his forehead to Rin's own, feeling hot breath against his lips and seeing the briefest flicker of interest in eyes he knew as well as his own reflection. "I find I'm rather thirsty."
Rin sputtered incredulously and Mako didn't bother hiding his grin, seeing the tinge of color in his cheeks. Denying him was one of life's small pleasures, just another assurance Rin would demand more of him later. He was prepared to offer far more than the man could think to ask.
But only once Rin had confided his troubles.
It had become the pattern between them now; Rin would fall on him as soon as the door was decently closed, provided the day's stresses hadn't already forced him past any consideration for propriety. On those days, Mako was just as likely to find himself ravished in the first convenient corner, not that he was opposed to it, in fact Rin's embarrassment was more than adequate incentive for encouraging those little outbursts.
Once their initial hectic coupling was through, Rin would begin to speak of small matters: the small oddities he had observed along the way, snippets of gossip half-heard. When drink, fatigue and comfort had finally taken their hold the subject often turned to himself, or more accurately, the goings on in his household. Old habits were not swift to leave him, Makoto found himself noting down much of what Rin told him in case he should ever have need of it; who was sharing whose bed, which way the merchanting families were intending to stack their interests in the coming seasons.
Increasingly Rin had begun to criticize his family's investments, business practices, even the blatant nepotism that had for so long ensured its stranglehold on some of the minor shipping lanes off the Southern coast.
All told, it was not an uncommon pastime for merchants' sons, but Rin more often than not had insights Mako would not have expected of one of the pampered rich. No question but that he was an ambitious one; the Matsuoka clan's interests would prosper under his guidance, assuming he was ever given the reins.
"We're set to add a new ship to our roster. The Samenoe. She's beautiful, no expense spared."
As per usual, Rin cut right to the heart of the matter without preamble. Subtlety was not his strength, but if bloody-minded determination were the currency used in the markets, Rin's pockets would ever run deep. With any luck he would take a wife that knew her business in the drawing room: bargains and secrets and which hands to shake; Makoto did not fool himself he could always be the one to hold Rin's ear, though he had no doubt they would have made a stunningly effective partnership in another life.
The sister wouldn't do. She was a child yet, and by all accounts her temperament was already the match to Rin's. No, the family would do far better to marry her to another minor clan as soon as she came of age. Doubtless she would take to the match her own kind of loyalty, something the Matsuoka clan had in short supply since the death of its patriarch so many years ago. It was a blow Mako doubted they would ever fully recoup from.
"And that's precisely the trouble. We're expanding with too little capital, stretching our resources thin before we have even consolidated our own holdings already. What use is a ship without cargo, or cargo without a market? We need to bring the family name back to its former prominence before we can afford these risks."
Mako hummed noncommittally, exerting every shred of his self-control to keep from turning back to pin Rin against the pillows once again. He was strung taut still, though that tended to be his normal state in this man's company.
He needed to put distance between them or risk blowing all his carefully laid plans to hell.
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Rin watched Makoto rise from bed, the smooth interplay of muscle beneath tanned skin holding his gaze. He couldn't help but marvel at how casual and unaffected Mako's movements were: graceful without effort, dangerously practiced and superbly controlled.
He could easily understand how this man had become the singular most sought-after whore in the district. What he couldn't understand was why.
Mako turned to catch his gaze, lifting the bottle of wine he saved for such occasions. "May I pour you a drink?"
"Yes." Rin didn't smile this time, all his false warmth had deserted him the minute passion fled. He was left with a hollow core of fear in his gut. What if Makoto wasn't tempted by his offer? What if he decided it was worth more to sell the information?
Either way, Mako poured the mulled wine quickly and glided smoothly back into the bed, kneeling on the edge with a goblet outstretched in mute offering. He hadn't broken eye contact with Rin once, and there was a smile hovering about his lips now that suggested he knew what was coming. Rin couldn't be sure how much of it was mummery and how much truth; there had been a time Makoto had been accounted one of the greatest intelligence-gatherers the imperial navy had ever employed.
Of course, none of his clients would know that. To them, Mako was no more than a warm, talented body. A criminal waste of talent, Rin called it.
"Is there something more troubling you, young master?" Mako's eyes sparked with teasing mischief, lips curving into a rakish smile that Rin would never confess to envying.
Oh God. Rin could feel his ears burning, a blush spreading down his skin too fast for him to follow. Makoto could make anything sound filthy, and delighted in tormenting his clients with his expertise. Still, he would never have another opportunity like this.
Rin leaned back against the headboard, sipping at his wine to wet his parched throat. "You've been working here a long time."
He caught the flash of surprise in Mako's eyes. It was rare that he ever managed to throw this man off-balance, but he had succeeded now. It was hardly more than a flicker of an eyelid, but Rin thought he could see a shadow of recrimination on Mako's face. Had he taken it for an insult? Damn. For all his lessons in etiquette, Rin knew he had never truly mastered the art of conversation.
Makoto was smiling again, any sign of offense vanished. "A long time for a whore, you mean. Madam does prefer to keep fresh meat on display, but I like to think I have a certain enduring charm." Mako tilted his head back, showing off the elegant line of his throat, the smooth skin of his chest and his toned stomach. "Wouldn't you agree, master Rin?"
"There is something about you." Rin agreed, sensing his moment, "But it's more than a pretty face."
"You flatter me." Mako's gaze sharpened as he took the first drink of his wine, eyes never leaving Rin's own.
"It isn't flattery if it's true."
"What more could I possibly have to offer." It wasn't a question, Rin thought it might even be a veiled threat.
"There's your skills, for one."
Mako's smile returned as though it had never vanished. He crawled up the coverlet, kneeling over Rin's hips and leaning over to set the wine on the bedside table. "I will defer to your expertise." He ground down slowly, undulating his hips until Rin arched thoughtlessly into the pressure, his free arm looping around Mako's waist to hold him steady. It was devilishly hard to remember what he had come for when all his blood was swiftly leaving his head.
"Aside from the obvious." Rin hissed reluctantly. Either this would be his final moment, or triumphant.
All movement ceased for one breath, two, then Makoto was leaping from the bed, every line of his body screaming alertness. "Speak quickly, Matsuoka, or be a dead man. I've no patience for coyness."
Shit. He had miscalculated badly, and now Mako was eyeing him like he was trying to decide where to stick the knife first. His impression probably wasn't far from the truth.
"I know who and what you are."
Mako feigned toward him and Rin scrambled to lay hold of him, exerting every ounce of his strength to hold Makoto in place. "Dammit, listen to me. I don't know how the hell you ended up working a brothel, but I'm offering you a way out." Rin gasped out the final word, reeling from a vicious blow to his gut. He released Mako, sucking in steady breaths past the pain.
Mako didn't move away from him; his face was set in grim lines but he had ceased his struggling. "A way out? I worked very hard to get here, Rin. I am not inclined to leave."
"No? Not even for the sake of that fine ship I mentioned a moment past? I can't believe you don't miss the rocking of a deck beneath your feet. I'm damn well certain you believe you were meant for more than catering to drunken, lecherous boys with more coin than wit. I'm offering you a share of what I intend to take, and my price is no more than the benefit of your experience."
There was far more to it than that, and Rin couldn't help the impulse that made him glance away. It was true he had come here with the intent of seducing Mako; the plan seemed laughable now, looking back. A merchant's son seducing a man who had made his name doing just that? Well, the name he was known by publicly anyway. There were altogether less refined sectors where men swore this man was a demon, a cunning fox whose loyalties were never certain.
Rin had been cured of his foolishness swiftly, but of course he had already fallen neatly into his own trap like so many others before him. The devil of it was, he still couldn't say what drew him to Tachibana Makoto, only that it was something he was loathe to surrender. He wanted this man for a partner in more ways than one.
His head rang when it connected with the headboard, a blow that left his wits scattered and breath coming short with Mako's knee planted firmly atop his breastbone. If he pressed too hard, Rin knew he would be dead; he also knew that had Mako intended it, he wouldn't have lived long enough to worry about his current circumstances.
"We will begin with how you came to know of me. Everything from my name to my occupations. Then you will tell me of your ship, and what exactly it is you intend to take."
The way Mako's lips shaped that final word was nothing short of sinful, Rin couldn't help but realize that if he leaned up the slightest bit, if Mako moved his knee and straddled his chest-
"If I am not satisfied with your answers, I will kill you. I beg you, don't ruin my sheets."
It was that voice, Rin would have sworn, that same artful cadence he used when he knew his partner was on the brink that made Rin's breath catch and his fingertips curl as though reaching just beyond his grasp. Whatever it was, Makoto saw it, and he offered a smile that was equal parts threat and promise.
"Does that thought truly excite you, Rin? Being fucked by a man that can kill you? I've seen it before, far too often if truth be told."
Rin's breath caught at the casually spoken profanity, eyes widening when Mako slowly shifted to straddle him, crawling up his body until his erection rested just below Rin's chin.
"Far be it from me to deny you, though I suggest you show me your best effort. I don't think you would like to disappoint me just now."
Rin licked his lips, offering a sharp smile too cocky by half for his circumstances. "We both know you're going to leave with me." He didn't give Mako a chance to respond, swallowing him as deep as his rebelling muscles would permit until Mako bucked instinctively against him, needy hands twining in Rin's hair.
"Too damn arrogant by half, Matsuoka. I'll train that out of you-" His words cut off into an unintelligible cry when Rin ran his teeth down that hot length, his hands rising to brace Mako through his violent tremors. They both knew how the night was going to end, but if Mako wanted to pretend his mind wasn't made up, Rin was pleased to oblige him.
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Makoto couldn't suppress a stab of disappointment at the dawning recognition he saw reflected in Haruka's eyes. It was good, in a sense; it meant the man hadn't been lying when he asserted he and his ragtag bunch were not permanent residents of the island. All that was left was to determine whether they had a way of communicating with or even returning to the mainland.
It also meant that Haruka had at some point been in a position to learn the name of a man that had made it his life's work to be certain that name never spread any farther than necessary. He had grown careless in his last few months of duty, true, but not so much that every information broker in every corner of the earth would be familiar with it. Rin had sent him here to protect the crew by finding a ship if possible, but much as it shamed him his priorities had shifted with one disbelieving look, half-terrified glance.
It was there and gone again within a second, subsumed beneath that unshakable calm that Makoto was beginning to loathe with every fiber of his being. He understood now why Rin so often tried to provoke his temper; seeing another man so detached was infuriating. He would have taken the fear again or the anger, contempt or pleading as long as it was something more than that perfect front of indifference Haruka was affecting. Here was a man he could not read without the benefit of strong emotion, and that sat ill with him.
His first objective then must be to provoke it.
"These are the questions I want answered, Haruka. I will repeat them at regular intervals to be sure you do not forget." Gently and in measured tones; Rin's anger had not impressed this man, neither Nagisa's vehement threats.
"Most importantly," Who are you? "How do you communicate with the mainland? How many are there in your colony? How many are fighting fit? Whom do you represent? And then to satisfy my own curiosity, who are you?"
"What makes you think I give a single damn about your curiosity or your crew? That vessel will catch up soon and the lot of you will go to hell."
That answered a pressing question though Haru obviously did not know it. He did not have any training in intelligence gathering or he would have known better than to exchange any words at all with his captor. It was easier to keep the mouth moving when it was already accustomed to it. Perhaps this could be resolved with only a modicum of violence after all.
"What will become of you?" Makoto tugged at the ropes binding him, snorting at Haru's muffled hiss of annoyance. He had to be aching but he did not betray it with more than the occasional shift of his weight. "You don't suppose Rin will permit the man who crippled his ship to swim away, do you? He'll slit your throat and use your guts for chum; there are sharks in these waters."
Haruka was silent while he chewed on the inside of his cheek; when he tried to roll his shoulders Mako pinned them in place, stretching his arms until he heard the ropes tighten.
"This whole business is your fault. If you hadn't ambushed us when we came ashore we would have resupplied and been gone with no one the wiser. If you hadn't chased us out into the water you could be swapping tales with your comrades over the fire even now." An hour ago that had been precisely what Makoto had wished the man had chosen to do. He wanted a full night's sleep and a functional ship.
He still craved a full night's sleep, but this brief interlude was a pleasant taste of days past; his only concern was that he might lose himself in the familiarity of it.
The mattress shifted, Haruka attempting to compensate for the pressure on his lungs. Breathing was going to become a complicated affair if this took too long; that had always been Mako's favorite gambit, largely because it was so effective and required minimal effort on his part.
"You would have come too far inland." His eyes shifted to the pearls looped about Mako's wrist, forgotten in the excitement. "You would have taken far more than that."
Mako twisted the bracelet mockingly, "This is only a bauble, and not the only one of its kind. You were wearing it about your wrist before we arrived, weren't you? The skin is paler there."
"I will make another when I have finished with you." Mako could hear the wheeze of labored breathing in Haru's words, but the strain hadn't reached his face yet. He leaned farther in, ignoring a strange spark of awareness where their skin met. Many times he had seen his colleagues become aroused during interrogations, delighting in play they dare not indulge elsewhere. He had mocked them then, and had no intention of permitting the same to happen to him now.
"How much pressure do you suppose it would take to force the last of the air from your lungs, hm? They can collapse, did you know? I couldn't allow both, I need you alive a little longer, but really you only need one." He pressed, ignoring Haru's cut off groan.
"Let's start with something simple: there were children in your encampment, why?"
Haru only snorted, immediately regretting it when that much more air left his lungs. Mako adjusted his weight only slightly, gritting his teeth against the temptation to press Haru's face into the mattress and watch him writhe. He was angry, moreso than he could recall being since the incident that had cost him his commission, but it would do him no good if he killed the man by accident in a fit of pique.
"Were they born there or brought along? Are they orphans perhaps? I know some crews make their earnings transporting the dispossessed for free labor-"
"They're children, not slaves."
"Born to you, then. It's a risky proposition, isn't it? You said we are not the first of our kind you have seen; it doesn't seem fair to me, keeping a child isolated here with nothing but gulls and urchins for company. Or is that your 'ship' is only a product of your fancies? A ruse, perhaps? That would explain why you haven't taken them to the mainland quite nicely."
It would also prove damned inconvenient to explain to Rin. Especially after promising he would have the location from Haru come hell or high water.
Haruka sputtered and Mako gently eased away, allowing him a couple gulps of air before he began to press again, elbows digging viciously into Haruka's ribs.
"We could just as easily make land and damn the consequences. It would mean heavier losses on both sides, and you can be sure Rin would have blood from your folk, but there are only so many places to keep a ship."
He leaned away, waiting for Haruka's response.
"Damned inconvenient if I lied. Suicide."
"Then you don't want us to make land. In the end I suppose that is the only answer I truly need."
"I'd prefer you didn't massacre an entire colony for spite, yes."
"Colony? That is interesting."
Haruka shot him a venomous look, murder written plainly in every line of his too-smooth place. Finally, a reaction. Not as dramatic as Mako had hoped, but sufficient to temper the violence clawing for release just beneath his skin. It had been too long since he had played a man like this, and like a parched survivor he longed to drink deep of fear and surrender. The games he and Rin played had never quite compared to the genuine article.
"Who sponsored your colony, or was it an independent enterprise?" It would mean trouble if they attracted undue attention from the merchant's guild so soon after escaping the navy. The latter would not leave imperial waters, but the former would roam all the world over, making the task of finding a safe harbor doubly difficult.
"For all your vaunted skill it seems to me you have more questions than answers." Haru smiled devilishly, all triumph and open taunting, "Your reputation does you a little too much justice."
That rankled most of all. There was a time the mere mention of his name would have had even the bravest man spouting his secrets inside a minute. A few years of allowing those skills to fall by the wayside and now he couldn't even wrest the truth from a single boy after ten minutes and counting.
He was dancing around torture like some prudish maid around her lover. His instinct was still intact, only he needed to embrace it. Or perhaps put some of his other carefully honed and easily maintained skills to the test.
"You are half right, at least." Slowly he withdrew his boot knife from its protective sheath, watching Haru's eyes widen with understanding when it became visible over the edge of the bed. "I've always thought that damaging precious art ought to be a capital offense. Once reforged, it is never quite what it once was, and I don't hold with those factions that believe the history of the object should be written in its-" He ran the blade down Haru's spine to the unnatural dip- flesh would part so easily beneath it- "Skin."
At last the fear had returned, but mingled with a new expression, one he had seen a time or two in his old days, but not one had expected to see on the face of this prisoner.
Loathing. Terror. Fascination. Desire.
It took some men that way, fear and pain triggering the same response in their bodies as the most practiced of whores.
Well, there was certainly a reason he had been both gifted torturer and talented whore.
When he smiled, Haruka sneered back with such a challenge he had no choice but to meet it.
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Rin glanced up at Nagisa's entry, barely distracted from his work. What pitch he had would not be enough to completely repair the damage, but perhaps enough that the pumps would not have to work overtime to keep them afloat.
"What is it?"
Even Nagisa looked away, eyes fixing on a point just over Rin's shoulder while he spoke. "Mako sent me to find you. He is dealing with the islander in the infirmary. What are my duties?"
Rin shook his head, "I need to know that every weapon is in working order. Check the cannons too. Let me know when Seijuro's ship is in range."
Nagisa blew the flyaway bangs from his eyes, rocking back on his heels guiltily. "They will be in range of us far sooner. We can only return fire, and only if Sei draws close enough to permit it."
"Check the cannons, Nagisa. After you've gone over the armory. Take Rei with you; he can tend to the rapiers while you see to firearms."
"Captain, if I may?"
The fact that he bothered to ask proved more than anything the crew had begun to understand their situation.
"Be brief."
"I don't think we can escape and keep the Samenoe. It's become an either or proposition."
"Then it's a damn good thing I don't keep you around for your brains. Leave."
"Aye, sir."
Nagisa scrambled out of the hold as though spirits dogged his footsteps, taking the stairs three at a time with hardly a stumble. The boy was agile, Rin would concede, but his strength had ever been long-range weaponry.
Rin wiped his hands carelessly on his coat, frowning at the work he had done so far. His cousins had always said it was not meet for a captain to dirty their hands at menial labor; perhaps that held true for merchant vessels, but he had learned quickly that a pirate captain was only captain by the grace of his crew and a good mate. What good-will he had accrued would be squandered if the vessel took much more damage, and Rin could not bring himself to entrust such a critical aspect of her care to someone else.
The truth of the matter was, regardless of what Mako learned he could not leave his ship. The deck had been stained with his blood and sweat, the sails showed spots where he had assisted in patching them back together, there were grooves in his cabin floor that his incessant pacing had worn after years. The Samenoe was his first home and he meant it to be his grave.
Just not today. And neither could it be his prison.
As he worked, Rin thought up and discarded a dozen plans, each more desperate than the last. They could take to a cove behind the island outcropping, garnish the ship Mako believed must be nearby and use it to outfit the Samenoe. Only working that fast would require divine assistance and he did not know the waters well enough to navigate past shoals and sandbars.
They could allow Seijuro to catch up and stage a pitched battle, ferocity and experience against… experience, numbers, and a warship especially designed for taking punishing amounts of damage.
If they made land, the inhabitants would attack. The woman, Miho, had made it plain she would have Haru back or die trying. He could not afford to wage a battle on two fronts.
If they continued on to seek shelter at one of the larger islands, there was every chance Sei would catch them up. His sails were not designed to catch the wind in quite the same way but neither was he taking on water and managing an uncertain tiller.
If Rei could just get that damn tiller working, Rin was willing to chance the water. Six days in their condition, with the added weight throwing off their careful balance. Six days to safe harbor and supply he estimated. That would put Sei six days out of friendly waters. He would never chance it. They were just beyond imperial waters now, and the man was arrogant enough to continue the chase since he had doubtless recognized the ship, but the farther from his territory he roamed the less likely he was to find comrades.
There was no love lost between the Samenoe and the dozens of other ships plying Southern water, but between settling scores amongst themselves or settling a long-standing blood debt with imperial envoys, Rin knew which his kind would choose. Could they last out the day? A day out of range and Sei would become uncomfortable. He was a pragmatic man, and if Rin had learned anything it was that he only took risks when he sure the payoff was sufficient.
Rin's clan was far too frugal to offer more than a frugal reward for his capture, and Sei's superiors would not approve of even the few nautical miles out of bounds he had ventured. No aid would be forthcoming if he found himself cornered. And he had to know it.
Could they bluff, drop anchor in the shallows and wait patiently? What damage they had sustained would not be visible from a distance and Sei might hesitate if they showed no sign of fleeing.
But having spent the last day doing just that, would he call their bluff? Nagisa was right to say their firepower was superior, too close and the Samenoe was sunk. And the eldest son of the Matsuoka with it. No, Sei would not chance that. Once his family had been influential; after a series of poor decisions they were far from solvent and debtors had already been plaguing his father's estate before Rin had set his schemes in motion, but the Matsuoka name still meant a great deal in some circles. Enough that killing the former heir without the benefit of a very public trial would spell the end of a promising career.
A bluff it would have to be then, and a daring one at that. The Samenoe would first have to limp to the shallows, circumnavigate the island and take shelter. All while contending with a dysfunctional tiller, tides and sandbars, not to mention a population hellbent on revenge. At least the tide would hold the Samezuka at bay for a few hours. Long enough to see to the worst of their damage, perhaps arrange a parley if Seijuro was so inclined. Personally, Rin was not. There was nothing to discuss, but misguided man of honor that he was, Sei had always made an effort to proffer the hand of mercy.
A damned contemptuous gesture Rin called it.
An infinitesimal chance of success if Makoto could not secure the cooperation of their captive, but it was all they had. If he could persuade Haru to cooperate, then perhaps they could soldier on for a few days more. Long enough to make definitive plans, long enough that Rin could hope for a change of fate.
It was starting to feel a lot like the good old days.
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"Rei, cap'n says you're with me."
Rei barely paused, too busy threading lines through Nitori's willing hands. Nagisa would have taken a moment to admire the artistry of it if he were not already pressed for time. Upwards of seventy weapons to inspect and ready for combat with only Rei for company. Rin had not looked to be in a mood for disappointment when Nagisa had come upon him in the hold; in fact he had looked something like the devil he had once been rumored to be.
This past year had not been kind to their crew; one disaster after another had dulled Rin's edge for a time, too consumed with worry to notice how lenient he had become. This latest setback had brought him roaring back to life, and Nagisa found himself wary of testing just how deep those particular waters were.
"Rei-"
"Wait, Nagisa." Nitori's voice carried to him in the hush, steady and certain of obedience. Not today.
He marched to Rei's side, prying the line from him with a hectic burst of energy, completely ignoring a barely muffled shriek of dismay. "Armory, now. Rin's orders."
"Dammit. How many twinings was that, Nitori?"
"I think we'll have to undo at least the last two."
Both slanted equally malevolent gazes in Nagisa's direction; Rei cast the line aside disgustedly, muttering what sounded like highly uncomplimentary imprecations under his breath. The shock of it was enough to make Nagisa hesitate, though not for long. How long had it been since he had personally experienced Rei's anger? Too long ago to remember, that was certain. The trouble with Rei was he could never simply throw a tantrum and have it done with. First came the shouting, then the wrathful telling off, then the silence that warned Nagisa he felt both guilty and justified. In the end, his personal vindication always won out and Nagisa was left to make the apologies.
Perfect. Another chore to add to an already impressive list. He rocked back on his heels, radiating offense. "Fine. Stay and work with Nitori. Don't blame me when Rin kicks your ass for disregarding orders, no skin off my teeth."
"I think you had better go with him. He'll never be silent, otherwise." Nitori muttered, untangling the mess Nagisa had made of their line; his voice was deceptively mild and all the confirmation Nagisa needed that they would have to have a reckoning sooner rather than later.
"Can you manage on your own? I think the captain would agree the tiller line takes precedence over inventory."
"Obviously not or he wouldn't be sending you with me." Nagisa twined a firm hand in Rei's coat, attempting to drag him toward the door and not succeeding in moving him even an inch.
"I will manage. Go."
Then Rei was good enough to shift his stubborn feet, striding off at such a rapid clip that Nagisa was the one left trailing behind.
It was infuriating, seeing how far Rei and Nitori had come even in a few hours of working together. Now they were speaking as equals, and temporary though he knew it to be, Nagisa found it rankled. Always Rei had belonged to him first. He had been the one to convince Rei that he could be a gentleman and a pirate, he had been the first to take his meals together with the quiet man who had spent nearly a month aboard ship without befriending his peers. He had been the first to recommend Rei as navigator when he had seen how capable the man was with a sextant and the first one Rei had turned to when his conscience was afflicting him.
Months it had taken him to court Rei, patience he hadn't realized he possessed and more than a little luck. Now it felt as though he was losing him to Nitori. What's worse, looking back he could see it had begun from the first moment Nitori had set foot aboard ship. Both men came from the same rarefied culture Nagisa had never been a part of, never even aspired to partake of, both still kept something of their gentle mannerisms even after so long with a crew of ruffians.
They were a better match. And clearly he himself was showing a pattern, falling first for a minor aristocrat and getting caught up in a web of fascination with one entirely too mysterious surgeon. Hell, he hadn't protested too much when Nitori had pinned him to the door and fucking ravished him.
Of course, part of his acquiescence had something to do with that pesky question of what it was Nitori wanted from him and whether he intended to dispose of Nagisa once he had it.
In a burst of desperation, Nagisa reached out and fisted a hand in the back of Rei's coat, "You should stay away from him."
"Who?" Rei mumbled, far more subdued than he had been a moment ago. Had it only been a fit of pique then? They were all on edge; maybe for a moment Rei had simply reached the end of his tether.
"Nitori Aiichirou. Ship's surgeon, sometime madman. We don't know much about him, and apparently everything we did know is a lie."
"We know it will go ill for him if the imperial navy takes us, the same goes for every man aboard; I don't need to know any more."
"He kissed me." Nagisa blurted out in desperation; he nearly stumbled into Rei's suddenly stationary back.
"What?" At last Rei was looking at him. Genuine confusion pulled the corners of his lips down, brows gathering in a frown of concern. Shit. They needed to be in the armory, but Nagisa knew just from looking they were not going so much as another pace without an acceptable answer to that very valid question.
"In the infirmary when I went to apologize. He kissed me. I-" Nagisa took a breath, gathering all his courage for one final admission: "Kissed him back." He couldn't breath, his throat was closing and Rei was just looking at him in such perfect disbelief and he could feel his skin reddening beneath that dedicated study and-
"Please, Rei, stay away from him." Please don't abandon me, he wanted to say, but he didn't have the right. He loved Rei, truly; he had since the first time Rei had casually brushed his pistol aside and stared him down, all the while surrounded by hostiles. He had wanted him fiercely and put everything he had into the pursuit of that goal, and now he had jeopardized that for the sake of a single, stolen moment. What was worse, he was fairly sure he would repeat the mistake if it happened again.
Conclusion, as Rei would say, he was not deserving of the loyalty he had.
"I can't promise that." Rei said at last, still looking at Nagisa like he was one of those beloved puzzles Rei hoarded for his free days. "We have to talk, he and I. I want to know what it is he wants. I need to know what you want too."
"You-"
Rei clamped a solid hand on his shoulder, shaking his head slowly. "We need to sort out the weapons situation, then we can come back and sort this out. Then I need your honest thoughts." He nodded as though reassuring himself of his priorities and let go. "Honest, Nagisa. No creative truths."
That… that hadn't gone as expected. Nagisa stood rooted to the deck, gaping after what had to be the singular most unpredictable man on the high seas. Rei was the one to bring him back as always, turning around not half a dozen paces away to chivvy him along.
"Captain's orders, Nagisa, on the double."
He bolted after, mind aswirl with new questions and possibilities.
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Haruka stiffened at the cold bite of the blade lingering a moment too long at his back. The tip was perilously close to his kidneys and he was all too aware that a single jab could dispatch him. Makoto could not afford to kill him, he assured himself. No matter which way he looked at it, this crew would require his cooperation if they hoped to stay free and clear of imperial influence. It was aid he was not inclined to provide.
Unfortunately he had also become keenly aware of the growing ache in his ribs and shoulder blades, his deprived lungs making their protests felt each time Mako forced his weight down… and a curious excitement every time he hovered on the dangerous brink of consciousness.
Mako's voice was low and soothing, perfectly amicable and entirely at odds with their situation. That only made it worse. He was perverse, that much was plain because hardly had it been twenty minutes and he was already considering seeing if he could not win his freedom by seducing the man into a false sense of security. Seducing in whatever way was necessary. It had hardly escaped his notice how Makoto's breath caught when he pressed them skin to skin, and angry as he was he still watched as Mako unconsciously mimicked the minute shifts of his body.
The man was watching him so closely, looking for any sign of weakness but also unwillingly drawn. He was a handsome enough man, Haruka knew, and it was plain there was already something between captain and first mate. Would it be that much harder to shift his attention for a minute or three? Just long enough to get his hands free and preferably on that knife Mako was menacing him with.
Then, for the sheer pleasure of it, maybe he could push Mako into taking his relief. He would be dismayed, ashamed at how swiftly the tables had turned against him… and Haru would be free. With that thought in mind, he shifted again, a languorous movement that both stretched out the burning muscles in his back and showed them off to best advantage. It had to be tempting, having an enemy at his mercy and entirely alone.
Makoto's rumbling laughter had the hairs prickling on his neck and heat pooling uncomfortably in his gut. "I see we are in accord at least."
Before Haruka could ask him what the hell they were supposed to be in agreement on, his legs had been cut loose. Gratefully he stretched out even further, waiting for blood to return with agonizing slowness. Mako caught his arms, drawing them down his back as he began to massage pained shoulders.
"It is rather difficult to keep my mind on the matter at hand. Though…" Haru gasped and flinched when Mako reached under him, knowing fingers finding the evidence of his own betrayal.
"I am clearly not the only one."
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Whew. I completely forgot to upload this one. But hey, shorter wait for next chapter! :)
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Felnore: I'm so glad you're enjoying this Makoto! I figure there has to be a reason he's the 'killer whale' of the bunch; they really only look cute. :) Umm, sorry about the wait but I literally forgot I hadn't posted this one until I started editing chapter 13. So that should be up soon too! And while Haru might be a little rattled, I promise he won't break this easy. *Evil laughter*
Takara Yume: LOL. Not too far off the mark actually. Of all of them Nagisa and Rei are arguably the most sane at least. And really, for Rei to take up piracy, he's on the howling brink of madness. Wait 'til you see what else Mako can get up to with a smile ;)