by Aiden Bates
He parts his lips to speak, heard Jason catch his breath.
“Jason, take me to bed.”
Luke took Jason’s hand in his and leads him over the scrubbed surface of the deck, shining slick with moonlight, toward the stair Jason at the back of the ship, back the way they came so many hours earlier but now with their positions reserved, Luke leading, Jason following soundlessly behind, and Luke reflects just how much had changed in the short space of time. When he walked this way earlier, he did not know the feel of Jason Watson’s hands in his hair, the taste of his mouth, how he looked just before he kissed Luke, and Luke pities this former version of himself for all he did not know, how naïve, how inexperienced was this self from just a few hours ago.
It felt as though they were moving through a dream, Luke thinks, as they pass the lights of the party in the captain’s stateroom, still glowing bright, the loud clamor of voices and laughter rippling out over the open sea. The time that he spent in that room earlier this evening felt like lifetimes ago, or as if it were a dream and only now had Luke woken up. It was as if he and Jason occupy a different reality entirely, as though those people laughing behind the lit-up windows were the dream, and only he and Jason were in the real world.
The walk from their hidden spot behind the foremast down to Luke’s cabin was brief, but it does not feel brief to Luke; it felt heavy and slow, weighted with meaning, each step bringing him closer to something he had dreamed of ever since the first day he laid eyes on Jason.
Luke’s body felt strange, distant, dreamy, his own heartbeat loud and heavy in his ears, and it was only when he and Jason come to a halt outside the door of his cabin that Jason turns to him, his eyes dark in the shadows, to ask him, “Are you all right?”
Luke nods in the darkness and Jason squeezes Luke’s fingers between his own.
Jason’s low voice was a ribbon of heat between them. “Remember we don’t have to do this. We could do whatever you like, and if that was nothing at all—”
Luke lifts his fingers to Jason’s mouth and settles them against Jason’s lips.
Jason fell silent.
Jason’s lips were soft under Luke’s fingers; Luke could feel the gentle rhythm of his breath coming in and out, the warmth of it. It makes Luke want to replace his fingers with his mouth, right here, in the corridor outside his room where anyone could see them. Instead, Luke licks his lips before bending forward to put his mouth to Jason’s ear.
His voice was heavy and slow, like he felt. “I want everything. Everything you’ll let me have, everything you’re willing to give me. I want it, however long that took. I’m not going to change my mind.”
Luke heard the sudden exhalation of Jason’s breath, as though he had been punched in the sternum. He tips his head back, eyes closed, whispers, “Oh my god.”
Luke watched him, curious. “That was the second time you’ve done that.”
Jason drops his head back and opened his eyes. “Let’s got into your room, before someone comes.”
Luke nods. He pushes the door open.
The room was as black as pitch within. Jason waits in the doorway, presumably for Luke to light the lantern by his bed before losing all the light from the hallway, but before Luke had time to do so the sound of approaching voices echoes down from the top of the stairs, followed shortly by the sound of footsteps descending from the upper deck.
Jason steps with haste into the room and Luke lunges behind him to pull the door shut, plunging them into total darkness.
They stand still, listening to the sound of the women’s voices speaking in fervent whispers as they pass by Luke’s room and continue down the corridor. The words of their conversation were indistinguishable but the murmur of their voices continues for several moments more until they bid one another good night and the creak of a cabin door signals the end of their conversation.
Luke let out the breath he was holding, heard Jason do the same, and realizes suddenly how close together they were standing in the dark.
All at once Luke was nervous, the dreamy heaviness of his mood evaporating in the space of a heartbeat, transforming to a torrent of nameless anxiety.
Jason was with him, here with him, in his room, with the intent of…
Luke swallows.
He knew not all of what Jason’s intentions were.
He was not nervous about what Jason would or would not do—he meant it when he told Jason he wanted everything—but rather of his own responses to these things, whether he would know to do them well, or right. He felt suddenly vastly unprepared for what was about to take place, and Luke hates feeling unprepared, unpracticed, lacking knowledge.
A thousand anxieties swell to the surface of Luke’s mind, quenching his desire as effectively as water to a flame. What if Jason found his ignorance, his lack of experience childish, unappealing? What if Jason decides Luke was hideous without his clothes on? What if Luke does something to offend him? What if Jason found him foolish, awkward, and clumsy?
Luke felt a hot flare of panic burst open in his chest.
Luke knew the details of a coupling between a man and a woman, of course he does. But he does not know quite all the details of how desire was expressed between two men. He had heard the vulgar things that people say about two men together, what they do, but he had not sure precisely what they mean, or even how they would be possible. Of course, he had had his own imaginings about the things he would like, the things he would do if he and Jason were alone together, but he had no idea whether these were things that Jason would also be amenable to.
Jason must sense his anxiety even through the dark because Jason’s voice suddenly speaks into the silence, soft and careful. “Luke? Should I light the lantern?”
Luke felt conflicted. He was both grateful and distraught by the current atmospheric circumstances. He was grateful as the darkness means his sudden panic may remain invisible to Jason, but he was distraught by the fact that it means he cannot see Jason.
“It was alright if you want it to be dark but…” Jason’s hand reaches out for his and Luke gasps at the sudden brush of Jason’s fingers. “I’d like to see you.”
Luke felt Jason lift the hand that was holding Luke’s up to his mouth. Luke felt the touch of Jason’s breath before his lips descend and the feeling was so charged with intimacy that Luke shivered from the roots of his hair down to the tips of his toes.
Jason kissed his knuckles lightly, and then lifts his mouth away to continue speaking. His voice was so soft, so full of heat Luke could almost feel its weight against his skin in the dark.
“I want to see the curls in your hair as they catch the light, the shape of your mouth when I kiss it, the color rising in your cheeks as I kiss you here,” Jason pushes back the fabric at Luke’s wrist to kiss the bone, “And here…” Jason straightens up and leaned in to press a kiss to Luke’s jaw, “And here.”
His mouth descends to the skin just below Luke’s ear and Luke’s sharp intake of breath was as loud as a gunshot in the dark.
“You see,” Jason said, and his voice was a low murmur against the skin of Luke’s neck. “I’ve spent a long time imagining just how you would look when I do this to you, and although hearing you and tasting you were probably more than enough, I’m greedy.”
Jason’s mouth slides down the side of Luke’s neck and Luke tips his head back, his mouth falling open at the sensation of Jason’s warm mouth moving over his skin.
“Luke Holmes, you’ve given me a thirst I cannot quench.”
In the wake of the heat of Jason’s mouth against his skin, the issue of whether or not to light the lantern had fled from Luke’s mind to make room for much more pressing concerns, such as where Jason’s mouth would go next.
“J—Jason?”
Jason’s mouth lifts off of his neck and Luke almost cries out at the loss. “Yes, my love?”
“Would you… kiss me again? On the mouth?”
Jason’s answer was a sigh of heat against Luke’s lips an
d then Jason’s mouth was sliding in against his and Luke parts his lips in a gasp of pleasure as Jason’s hands settle in his hair.
Jason kissed him sweetly, lightly, but Luke was having none of that.
Luke decides right then and there that open-mouthed kissing was far superior to kissing with mouths closed. Honestly, what a waste of time.
He opened his mouth wider and pushes his tongue with gentle curiosity into the wet heat of Jason’s mouth.
Oh, Luke thinks, as Jason’s tongue comes forward to meet his own, Jason’s hands sliding from his hair to cup his face. This was what all the fuss was about, what all the poets and playwrights were sighing over.
Luke had always found poetry desperately overrated, but as Jason’s tongue slipped in against his own, Jason’s moan pouring out like a song from his throat, Luke began to understand why so much ink had been spilled over this endeavor.
Luke had never kissed anyone in his life before tonight, and if you had asked him an hour ago whether he was nervous about his lack of expertise in this area he would have blushed and glared at you, while thinking secretly, ‘Yes of course I’m nervous! I don’t know a thing about it!’ But Luke was realizing, as Jason began licking into his mouth, Luke’s own tongue rising with enthusiasm to meet Jason’s, it was perhaps not something one needed much practice at.
Luke pushes his body forward against Jason’s, his nervousness all but forgotten, and he had so adamant about kissing Jason, about getting his body as close to Jason’s as possible that he had entirely forgotten where they were until he felt Jason stumble against the edge of his bunk.
Jason breaks away, breathing hard, Luke’s hands holding his hips.
“I want…” Luke kissed him between words, missing Jason’s mouth in the dark, kissing his chin instead, not caring as he drops his hands to the fabric at his throat. “I want… to feel you…without anything in the way. These clothes…!”
Luke was shuddering hard now, like a horse that has just run a race. He wanted the layers of fabric between him and Jason gone as soon as possible but his shaking fingers make it difficult for him to make any headway.
He tugs with frustration at his neck cloth and then felt Jason’s hands reaching up to hold his own, the sound of his chuckle against Luke’s cheek momentarily pausing his frenzy.
“Easy, easy there. This was why the lantern may be of some use. It was much easier to do this with a bit of light.”
Luke nods, breathless, before he remembered Jason couldn’t see him and then gasps, “On the stand beside the bed, there were matches.”
Jason reaches for them, and it was only a second or two before Jason’s nimble fingers find a match and were dragging it to life against the tinder.
He lights the candle on top of Luke’s desk and then leaned over to light the one in the lantern above Luke’s bed, kneeling on Luke’s bed to reach it.
Luke thinks about Jason Watson’s knee pressing into his mattress and felt heat climbing up his throat.
Jason shook out the smoking match, sets it on the desk beside the candle, and then comes toward Luke, the ghost of a smile of his face.
Jason Watson by candlelight was arguably no lovelier than Jason Watson in the sunshine, his hair shining like a flame, no more breathtaking than Jason Watson on a misty morning halfway up the rigging, or Jason Watson in a storm, his face streaming with rain. Luke thinks that there was no version of Jason Watson that he could ever take issue with, but right now, in this moment, it was his conviction that Jason Watson by candlelight coming towards him with a smile on his face, his eyes blue-black with wanting Luke, was by far the best Jason he had ever known.
“Come here,” Jason said, stepping up against Luke, settling his fingers over Luke’s fingers where he had still struggling to pull apart the fabric at his neck. “I’d like to do the honors, if that was alright with you.”
Jason’s grin was so sudden and full of mischievous intent that it was all Luke could do to nod his assent. He lifts his chin to give Jason more room.
“Yes, that was lovely,” Jason murmurs as he pulled the strip of cloth free, baring Luke’s throat. “Oh god, yes.”
He folded the length of silk with several deft movements before settling it with care on top of Luke’s desk. Then he leaned in, lifting himself up on his toes to press his mouth to the long white expanse of neck that he had uncovered. He kissed Luke where his pulse was throbbing, hot and insistent, underneath his jaw, his mouth so warm, so wet that Luke makes a whimpering sound, his hands coming up to clutch Jason by the shoulders.
Jason mouths his way down to the groove between Luke’s collarbones, pulling wide the collar of Luke’s linen shirt, his hands slipping around beneath Luke’s jacket, over the ivory and gold stripes of his waistcoat to hold his waist.
“God, how I’ve dreamed of doing this,” Jason said in a burst of heat against Luke’s collarbone.
“You—you have?” Luke manages, his mouth falling open as Jason’s mouth returns to his neck to suck on the sensitive skin. This time, Luke cries out, loud and keening, and Jason’s fingers fly up to Luke’s mouth to stop the sound, his laugh a breathless rush of air against Luke’s cheek.
“Shh.” He kissed Luke as his fingers begin working apart the gleaming buttons on his waistcoat. “I’m sorry. I should have given you fair warning before doing that.”
Jason grins at Luke, the white of his teeth a flare of brightness in the dark.
“But your neck had been driving me wild for the past few weeks.”
“It had?” Luke asked, half-curious, half-completely distracted by Jason’s clever fingers already halfway through the endless line of buttons on his waistcoat. He felt strangely breathless watching Jason’s hands on his buttons, working them apart. Even through two layers of fabric the feel of Jason’s fingers against his belly makes him feel light-headed, shivery with want.
“Oh, I’ve spent hours…” Jason said, his voice wistful, as he pulled the last button free. “Hours and hours thinking of how I would kiss this lovely neck of yours, how it would taste—the corner of your jaw, the shadow here—could it possibly taste as sweet as it looked? There was only way to be certain.”
Jason pressed his mouth in just below Luke’s ear and licks.
Luke makes a keening sound, his knees buckling beneath him, hands reaching helplessly for Jason’s arms as he began to sink towards the floor.
“Woah, woah, woah. Easy now!”
Jason grabs Luke by the arms and spins him around, pushing gently until Luke was sitting on the bed.
Luke sits, shuddering hard, gripping the edges of the bed with white-knuckled fists, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of desire that felt like a live thing trying to tear its way out of his breast.
“Easy, easy,” Jason sighed, like gentling a spooked horse. “Let’s go slowly all right? It was a lot to take in.”
Jason kneels in front of Luke, settles his warm hands over Luke’s knees before running his palms up Luke’s thighs, his face tipped up toward Luke’s with attentive focus, the curves in his face made soft by lantern light.
“There was no need to rush.”
Luke imagines the touch was meant to be soothing but the feel of Jason’s callused palms stroking so deliberately up his thighs, sets Luke’s entire body to quivering as though he were a harp string Jason had just plucked.
“Jason—” Luke’s voice, full of desperation, caught on the single syllable, like a fish caught in a hook.
“I know,” Jason said, his voice low, soothing, as he runs his hands back down Luke’s legs to pull off his boots.
Somehow, even the act of Jason tugging his boots off—an act that Luke performs himself every evening with no aplomb—was loaded with erotic force simply because Jason’s hands were holding his calf as he does so, Jason’s eyes focused with reverent intent upon the curve of Luke’s ankle as he frees it from his boot.
It didn’t help that as soon as Jason had set the boot aside, his hands cradling Luke’s heel as
though it were made of crystal, his mouth was descending to kiss the instep of Luke’s long pale foot, his lips so soft that Luke gasps in shocked delight.
Jason strokes his hand over the underside of Luke’s foot and Luke jerks at the touch, gripping the bed so hard he could feel the edge of it leaving marks in his palms.
Jason moves his attention to Luke’s other leg, pulling off his other boot with equal tenderness, this time running his hands up over Luke’s calf, his mouth following in the wake of his hands, not touching, just hovering over the muscle until his mouth found Luke’s ankle where he pressed a kiss to the bone, his thumbs rubbing into the bottom of Luke’s foot.
Luke cannot stop himself from crying out again and he puts his hand up to his mouth to stifle the sound, fingers pressing hard against his lips.
“I know,” Jason murmurs again, his voice full of sympathy. “I know. I feel it too. Truth be told, I want to devour you.”
He looked up at Luke then and Luke could see how wide his pupils have grown, the black swallowing up the blue of his irises until they were nearly invisible.
Jason runs his hands back up over Luke’s knees, up this thighs, up, up, until his palms were framing the bulge in Luke’s breeches, and he leaned in close, his breath hot against Luke’s inner thighs, even through the fabric. Luke could feel it and he had to close his eyes for fear he would ruin himself before Jason had even started.
Jason holds his mouth there, his breath coming out in warm, unsteady plumes as he continues speaking. “I want to eat you up.”
Luke cannot bear it. The hunger in Jason’s voice sends a bolt of feeling straight to his cock, and before he could stop himself, Luke’s hands were reaching down and fisting in the material of Jason’s shirt, dragging him up on one knee to pull Jason’s mouth against his, lips parting immediately to allow Jason’s tongue into his mouth.
Jason kissed him back greedily, his mouth open against Luke’s, tongue plunging in to stroke the length of his tongue, climbing to his feet without moving his mouth from Luke’s and putting his hands on Luke’s shoulders to direct him backwards on the bed.