If someone had told Bucky yesterday that he'd be hauling treasure from Vice Admiral Walker's summer villa in a dinghy back to the ship he'd have said 'Great, I hate that asshole.'
If someone had told him said treasure included an omega about his age that smells like saltwater and home, wrapped in a damask curtain like a gift, well... That part would've given him some pause.
Not like he's ever. Done much. With an omega before.
It's not like Bucky doesn't know what Walker is like. What he's capable of. So finding the omega, Sam, bolted the the floor in a room that also contained a bed, a fireplace, a chamber pot, and no clothes wasn't exactly startling. Walker's plans probably got interrupted by the pirates landing ashore, Bucky included.
And, well. When your mother is a witch and your father is a shapeshifting creature of the deep, you put more truck in fate than pure coincidence.
The city is burning behind him as he rows in the night; occasionally he can see flashes of fire reflected in Sam's eyes. When they reach the ship Bucky's ears inform him that most of the crew made landfall. They'll steal from the officers and landowners and spend a good third of their plunder at the brothel next town over, knowing them. But that'll only be some of them. The rest will be back before dawn, and if Sam is found, ripe and unmated? It's gonna be a shit show.
Bucky would rather avoid that. Not that it won't be a shit show anyway, once they realize what he's done, but. A mate goes unbothered for the most part. Unmated omegas are an easy form of stress relief for the entire contingent of alpha pirates aboard.
James Buchanan Barnes is pretty stressed, generally, but he does not like to share.
He lets Sam walk ahead of him, pointing out where to turn in order to fund Bucky's cabin. As navigator it's not a very big room; it's got a bed, a table, couple of chairs, and several trunks. But the door locks. No one touches his stuff. Bucky points at one of the chests.
"You can have any clothes you like from in there. But," he continues once Sam moves to reach for it, exposing a shoulder with bruised ringed around his arm, making the omega fall still, "probably won't need 'em tonight. Maybe in the morning."
He procures a heavy glass decanter of spiced rum, pour two mugs to the top, sets one down in front of Sam. Takes the hand not currently keeping the curtain around him, slides it into the front of his loose pants. So Sam has done warning about what is going to happen, here. "You should drink."
It would be just his luck, Sam thinks, to stumble from an alpha intent on capturing and using him, into being freed by another alpha who intends to capture and use him. He's been mostly silent on the way to the ship, fully aware he's in dangeorus company and without any way to escape or means to defend himself. He's barely decent.
Sam thinks his mother would weep for him, may she rest in peace. But his father prepared him for the uncomfortable likelihood of a fate such as this. A practical man, his father, who knew that unmated omegas were basically free game to anyone interested. Not that there are no rules. Polite society doesn't condone what Walker did.
Which is why it happens behind closed doors. Naturally.
Had Sam's father lived long enough, he would have worked hard to secure Sam as safe a match as possible. Paul Wilson had never intended to see his children climb social ranks through matings, but he would have found Sam someone decent with the means to keep him in comfort and keep him safe, above all else. When he passed while his children were too young to provide for themselves, that plan went out the window.
Sam's status as an unmated omega virgin is still a currency to this day - just one he cannot leverage on his own, because that's not how the world works. Plenty brothels offering to pay good money for the right to sell his virginity to the highest bidder, which might sound callous, but Sam recognized for the safety net it was. The local prostitues look out for people in danger, and there is no more danger to be in than for someone like Sam.
He should have taken the offer, truth be told. Perhaps John Walker would not have dragged him kicking and screaming, leaving bruises harsh enough to show up on even Sam's rich skin. His thighs are still dry. He's not been used. It was a close call. Ironic, that the pirates would save him from that fate only for one of theirs to take him instead. Sam's situation hasn't improved so much as side-stapped to a parallel path going in the same direction.
He feels protrusions and ridges. He feels it grow, and realizes it to be big.
Sam swallows.
"Will you let me go, if I'm good to you? Before your crew returns."
Because he knows damn well what will happen otherwise, to an unmated omega only recently decanted like fine wine for the first time. He would be made a feast for the ship, and either kept for that, or thrown away. None of that appeals. But like his father, Sam can be practical. He can try to be good, he can try to be compliant, if it will ensure at least partial safety.
This? He knows he cannot prevent. Which is why he does not remove his hand, but pulls the pirate out of his pants instead.
Only to sit back, let go, stare. And then take a deep sip of that offered rum.
Bucky takes his own sip, shaking his head. His cock? Super interested in these shenanigans. Growing harder and slicker even without Sam's touch.
The rest of him is worried that his mate is gonna hate him for the whole thing.
"Nah. But. It's not gonna be how you think." His father courted his mother with prizes from the deep, items from shipwrecks lost to time, civilizations long beneath the waves.
Bucky has some of those things with him. Not all of them; some things would be too risky to keep on a ship full of professional thieves, even with most of them unwilling to piss off their navigator with a short temper.
But there's one thing he has on him: a necklace of sea glass and pearl, with a storm gem inside. The sort of thing of legends, with stories ranging from summoning storms to keeping the wearer from drowning on the high seas. Bucky unclasps it and sets it on the table.
"Ain't got time for a proper courtship," and if he sounds resigned to it, well. He's been an active thron in the side of the Royal Navy since he was sixteen, and he's twenty-one now. Not a lot of opportunities to meet hot single omegas on your area.
"But I don't share." Another drink of the rum. "You gonna hate me for this?"
"I don't know," Sam admits, because he believes in being honest.
The fact that they're having a polite conversation about it should surely feel much more strange to him. Instead he finds himself contemplative, as if he's not just been informed that his virginity will be taken by this pirate with a member like he is a demigod. Takes another sip of rum as well. Lets his eyes track from the pirate's face to the necklace on the table, to the way he can see that cock fill with more blood, grow bigger in every since of the word, ridges glistening with dribbles of slick. He doesn't know everything about sex - he was too young when his parents died, and did not fool around enough to find out. But he knows the basics. Knows that alpha dick isn't supposed to get wet, but imagines it helps the way his own slick does.
He looks back to the necklace. That, too, is extraordinary. Does not compare to the silver and gold on fine ladies, nor even to the precious pearls some favor.
"I am to be your mate." Sam says it like a question, a little. Perplexed, clearly. Reaches up and rubs at the bruising on his arm a little. Doesn't notice that the hastily draped curtain slips a bit, revealing the dark circle of a nipple on one side of his chest. "So you would court me, if you had the time. But I do not get a choice?" He poses the question carefully. Almost conversationally, like they're not drawing the line around Sam's freedom and future here. The fact is that something like this was bound to happen, sooner or later, and he knows it. Nods to the necklace - but doesn't pick it up. Not yet, at least, because to pick it up would be to accept a proposition he needs to understand better first. "Tell me what this is. Is it your payment for my virginity and compliance? Is it a courtship I am to accept so you can have me with consent? Is it a mating gift because you won't just have me, you intend to keep me?"
Even as he speaks, Sam leans forwards a little. Helps open Bucky's loose pants further so that his cock isn't constrained, can jut up from his crotch more freely. He doesn't touch Bucky now - but treats the display of alpha arousal without fear.
"Will you hurt me?"
Because there are bruises on his skin, and there would have been worse if Walker could have had his way.
"It's complicated." Obviously that. Bucky stares at Sam's chest, nostrils flaring a little before he looks away and takes another drink. "I heard you moving around, in Walker's house, but mostly i followed the smell." Which actually explains very little, Bucky, use your words.
"So. It's like this." He opens his hand on the table and tries very hard to ignore everything else happening with his body right now. The rum helps and hinders this project. "Walker, the man whose house you were in? He and I have a bad history. He'd kill you ar once he knew I'd even talked to you, much less wanted you for a mate and kidnapped you out from under him. And the men on this ship, they wouldn't leave you alone unless you were mated to me.
So we could leave. This ship. They'd follow for a while but I can outrun 'em. But I... I don't really know how far we'd get before... I forget what it's like to be around people. How to ask for things first. And that would be dangerous, for you."
Another drink. "But if I let you go, he'd definitely hunt you down for the sport of it. Even if I took you to Pearl's." The head of the brothel the next town over. "And the Navy would let it happen, you know. Given him medals for worse."
"All of this is dangerous for me," Sam points out, calm as anything. Perhaps it's the shock. Perhaps Walker broke something in him that's supposed to keep feeling fear. Sam fought like like hell and still ended up naked, chained, about to be used and then either kept chained in that room, or discarded if he couldn't please.
"Here's the thing. I don't want to stay here. I don't want to be mated only as a thin layer of protection from a horde of men used to pillage and plunder as they please. And you're one of them. You have to know that it will not end well for me in the long run. So you can keep me here and I will serve you in your bed, and you will have to wait for the day your crew's desires and boredoms outweigh their fear of your retribution. Keep me here and I'm sure I will please you, and perhaps I will not hate you, but know you will be dooming me to becoming crew property eventually. You will have to live waiting for that day to come, or wondering when I will sleep your grasp enough to find the only way to freedom left when caged and waiting to become plunder."
Sam takes another deep drink. Lets the words hang in he hair. He's grown up practical like this. He knows what Bucky thinks he can prevent will happen, inevitable as the tide. No matter who or what Bucky is, eventually the fear of consequences will no longer stall someone, anyone. And once the first man falls, it is like flood gates opening. Sam has seen this happen. There is no place worse for it than a ship one cannot escape, trapped without the comfort of a soft, slick hole for months on end, bored between raids.
"You can use me, and if you are not cruel I will try to be good to you, and learn what I can in a single night to please you, and then you can send me away. My fate does not need to concern you. You can sail away with your crew, and know I do not resent you for choosing this ship and the people on it over taking care of me. I am a stranger, and you might not have stolen me by accident, but you are not as of yet obligated to me in any fashion. You don't need to feel shame about abandoning me to the whims of the rest of the world once you are done, as you have made no promises yet. And trust me - I do know what those whims are."
The curtain slides to the floor. In the light of the caibin's oil lantern, Sam's dark skin gleams. Bruised dark in places. But oh, he is beautiful.
"You can take me far away, and I will make every effort so I will learn to adore and perhaps even to love you. I will be yours and yours alone, and you can court me as you know an omega should be courted, if you wish to do more than get your dick wet inside of them. You can mate me and you can be free. Because this..." He gestures to the small cabin. "This is not freedom, just because it is your choice."
Bucky can't help but stare at Sam's body as he considers the weight of the possibilities the omega sets out for him, eyes roaming across skin, between his legs, up again toward his face. He's beautiful, even bruised as he is.
He hadn't considered that the men would turn eventually, despite the fact that it seems obvious now that Sam has stated it as a possibility. Also, the vague allusion to Sam possibly drowning just to escape settles uneasy in the pit of his stomach.
"We'll leave, then." He glances around the room, considering the things he'll need to bring with them. "The men won't be happy about it. And I'll need to break into the Captain's quarters, for something of mine."
He finishes his rum and glances down at himself. What are they going to do about the state he's in, though?
A soft breath of relief. And showing his gratitude, Sam slides into Bucky's lap. Tentatively runs his fingers over him. Begins exploring him. It's obvious he's never handled cock before in any capacity. It's also obvious he's happy to learn on the job. That is what they'll do about Bucky's state.
"I don't know what you are. But between this and the jewel you offered, I find it obvious you are something mighty from the depths."
Squeezes Bucky's dick, careful at first, and then a little more enthusiastically. has to use both hands, because Bucky is too big for one.
"How are they keeping you confined to quarters unworthy of you, and keeping away what belongs to you?" Sam looks into Bucky's eyes. Remembers stories of the beasts of the sea. Of the things that can slither between your legs and leave you gifts. Of the things inside the floods. He knows how to pay tithe to the sea for safety. He knows how to respect entities such as this. He scoots closer, so Bucky's cock can rest in the space between Sam's own currently soft dick and his thigh. "Do they not pay tribute to your needs? Do they not see that you wish to court a mate and cannot, kept like a fish in a glass bowl? Do they do for you what you do for them"?
A breath that shudders out of Bucky as Sam touches him, talks to him. Recognizes him aloud as something that belongs to the fathoms. He knows now why Sam smells like home, to him.
Sam's people knew. They understood.
His eyes are blue, when Sam looks into them, but there are also lightning storms on the horizon. The vastness of the ocean in his eyes.
"You don't understand," Bucky responds, and it may be then that Sam realizes that while Bucky has power? He's young. "Without them I'd be... mad. Uncontrollable." He touches Sam's arm, runs his hand across soft skin. "They don't really believe. But. They're helping me be more human."
Gentle, patient while Sam continues to pleasure Bucky's cock. Gets it nice and wet si the cabin fills with the sound of his hand moving on wet flesh.
"I come from fishermen who hold the old faith. I grew up learning to fight if an alpha touches me. But I also grew up learning that if something rises from the tide and wants to slither between my legs, I should feel no fear and let it happen. I don't fear the flood - I've paid tithe to the waves."
He reaches between his legs, gathers slick and adds to the wetness of Bucky's cock.
"You're not meant to be controlled. Youre meant to be wild and free - that does not make you mad. Nor are you meant to serve." He gently draws Bucky in, let's him mouth at Sam's pecs and nipples. Taste the sea salt on his skin. "You don't need to be more human, deep one. I'm sorry they chained you like this."
Bucky shudders at Sam's words, his touch. Leans in and presses his tongue, which also feels not at all like a human's, against Sam's skin. Sighs. "I don't want to hurt anyone on accident again." He bites Sam's nipple, gently, before pulling away far enough to pull his shirt off over his head.
There are scars, bright and feesh-looking, all over his left shoulder and down his arm. Like something from a fire, but a normal fire would not affect a creature like him in this way. The more likely culprit is acid.
He lets Sam get a good look at them before he kisses Sam on the lips. Gentle and shy, before he moves his mouth down Sam's chest.
"There is a spearhead in my shoulder. I can't force it out without the bracelet the Captain has from me. Someone shot me, burned me... I don't remember the rest." He did as any wounded creature would do; he fought back. "But there were children on the water. They didn't make it and it was my fault.
He said he was going to help me. So that I would never hurt someone on accident again."
Was it an accident, though? From Bucky's perspective, certainly. Pain and shock have clouded his memory. But from the captain of a pirate ship?
Sam moves his hands then. Shifts so Bucky can just grind bis erection against Sam's thigh and abdomen while Sam cradles his head close, kisses his temple and let's Bucky kiss and lick and nip to his own delight. His hands meanwhile, still slick from both of them, gently and carefully brush over the scar tissue. Keeps the touch light so as not to aggravate the wound. But embraces all that Bucky is in his current shape.
Shudders at the serendipity of it all. Because perhaps it was not chance that brought them together tonight at all.
"I remember that," he murmurs into Bucky's hair. "I remember you. A vast shadow in the depths, beyond the shallows. You passed by our coast line a few times every year. We celebrated you as a good omen. The fishing grounds were always bountiful after you passed. We swam in the waters without a worry for anything. We gave tithe to you in blood and treasures of the island. Newlyweds made love in the shallows to give tithe to you with their lust. Children were born in the shallows so you would know their cries."
Sam whimpers softly, wet and light headed with knowing who and what has found him.
"I was born in the same waters you come from. I washed my first heat ofd my thighs in them. I remember that year your rage destroyed our town. My best friend drowned, too. I found your gifts on the beach and helped the elders place them upon the graves. And we cursed not you, but the pirates who had been plundering and pillaging our shore for weeks. Who had forged weaponry to use on you. We thought they'd sought to kill you. Now I wonder if they sought to tame you all along, to whip you into a rage and use your guilt as chains."
Sam rises up a little, maneuvers himself to straddle that large cock so Bucky can rub it between the cheeks of Sam's ass.
"Some of us moved away. Some stayed to rebuild. But it was never you we blamed. You're a force of nature, not a malicious creature."
With the wet, slick slide of Buckys cock, Sam lifts Bucky's head, looks into those blue eyes.
Bucky's expression collapses in grief, in guilt, underscored by the building arousal nearing a peak. He doesn't drop his head but he does close his eyes, breathes in the scent of the home waters he has avoided for six years now.
He remembers playing human, wandering the markets with his mother. The old people always knew; his eyes gave him away. The children his age didn't question his presence. There were feasts and festivals.
That year had been his first, to go alone as a young man.
Sam's body feels safe and warm and whole in a way Bucky has not felt in nearly a decade. The scent of his slick calms Bucky's rage and sadness, though they still exist, waves churning in his blood, under the surface. People died so he could be captured and kept like a pet? People he knew and cared for?
He can't drown the boat at the moment but the desire is there. Breathing in tandem with him.
"I will court you. On the shores of islands like your home. It will be done the old way. But I wish to keep you. To make you my mate." He nods a little. "Do you wish this? Do I have your permission?"
Sam shares his fury. To bind a creature of the fathoms like this. To harm and hold. Unthinkable. Unimaginable. His town destroyed only to harness a leviathan that had coexisted in peace, as all.things are meant to be. Sam's people respected the old creatures. This was never meant to happen.
The question is answered easily:
"You have my permission. I wish for your courtship. I wish to say yes to you a thousand times and more, on the shores of countless islands. I will respect you and adore you and love you, and I will become your mate. I shall never fear you. And I shall have you as you are, nothing less."
He whines and whimpers softly, wants Bucky to cum and mark him.
"I want you wild and uncontrollable as the sea. I want you large and dangerous as the waves during a storm. I want you to be you, and you shall be beloved, leviathan."
Bucky shudders and sighs through his orgasm, as Sam's agreement, his promises, are sealed in his heart. Bucky reaches towards Sam's ass and gathers some of the combined slick and cum, putting it on his tongue. Holding the taste of it for a moment before kissing Sam, pressing the fluids into his open mouth, chasing it with his tongue. He does this several times until there is very little left, which he massages into Sam's skin while continuing to kiss him.
So it begins.
"I need to get my bracelet back," he tells Sam. "And then we can leave this ship." Reaching for the necklace Bucky places it in Sam's hands. "This will protect you and keep you safe. Please wear it with my blessings; it will never leave you."
He kisses Sam again on the lips, the nose, the brow. Lifts him and sets him down on the little table. "You should dress." Opening the small chest of clothes. Handing Sam a seaglass handled dagger, also. "The captain's quarters are right above this room; I'm going to climb in through the porthole. If anyone comes in, cut them with this. I'll be right back, okay?"
Sam can only nod and watch his leviathan disappear. He shakes himself out of the daze in order to grab the necklace first. It sinks into his skin, becomes white patterns like a tattoo. Sam touches it, traces the pattern on his dark skin. Feels himself leak more slick with a small groan.
He knows he's drunk on the mixture of slick and cum he greedily licked off his deep one's tongue. Knows it's only the beginning - that to be courted and mated, he will be drugged, changed and trained in order to be able to take a creature of the depths for a mate. And serpents like the leviathans are big. Sam cannot believe that after all he has lost and his increasingly gloomy prospects for a future, he is here now. Has been put in position to free a young creature of the sea and help being him back to the old ways he was kept from for too long. Cant believe he has been chosen not just as companion but as future mate.
He picks clothes that will survive the journey while putting the new markings on his skin on display, and making sure there will be easy access to all parts of him for his future mate. Hope's his leviathan will mark him further as time goes on, too.
And then he waits, head swimming with it all. Gripping the dagger tight, waiting. Prepared to do what he can to help his serpent reclaim his glory and Sam's body alike.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unclesam) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
templeofthought2022-12-23 05:50 am
no subject
If someone had told him said treasure included an omega about his age that smells like saltwater and home, wrapped in a damask curtain like a gift, well... That part would've given him some pause.
Not like he's ever. Done much. With an omega before.
It's not like Bucky doesn't know what Walker is like. What he's capable of. So finding the omega, Sam, bolted the the floor in a room that also contained a bed, a fireplace, a chamber pot, and no clothes wasn't exactly startling. Walker's plans probably got interrupted by the pirates landing ashore, Bucky included.
And, well. When your mother is a witch and your father is a shapeshifting creature of the deep, you put more truck in fate than pure coincidence.
The city is burning behind him as he rows in the night; occasionally he can see flashes of fire reflected in Sam's eyes. When they reach the ship Bucky's ears inform him that most of the crew made landfall. They'll steal from the officers and landowners and spend a good third of their plunder at the brothel next town over, knowing them. But that'll only be some of them. The rest will be back before dawn, and if Sam is found, ripe and unmated? It's gonna be a shit show.
Bucky would rather avoid that. Not that it won't be a shit show anyway, once they realize what he's done, but. A mate goes unbothered for the most part. Unmated omegas are an easy form of stress relief for the entire contingent of alpha pirates aboard.
James Buchanan Barnes is pretty stressed, generally, but he does not like to share.
He lets Sam walk ahead of him, pointing out where to turn in order to fund Bucky's cabin. As navigator it's not a very big room; it's got a bed, a table, couple of chairs, and several trunks. But the door locks. No one touches his stuff. Bucky points at one of the chests.
"You can have any clothes you like from in there. But," he continues once Sam moves to reach for it, exposing a shoulder with bruised ringed around his arm, making the omega fall still, "probably won't need 'em tonight. Maybe in the morning."
He procures a heavy glass decanter of spiced rum, pour two mugs to the top, sets one down in front of Sam. Takes the hand not currently keeping the curtain around him, slides it into the front of his loose pants. So Sam has done warning about what is going to happen, here. "You should drink."
no subject
Sam thinks his mother would weep for him, may she rest in peace. But his father prepared him for the uncomfortable likelihood of a fate such as this. A practical man, his father, who knew that unmated omegas were basically free game to anyone interested. Not that there are no rules. Polite society doesn't condone what Walker did.
Which is why it happens behind closed doors. Naturally.
Had Sam's father lived long enough, he would have worked hard to secure Sam as safe a match as possible. Paul Wilson had never intended to see his children climb social ranks through matings, but he would have found Sam someone decent with the means to keep him in comfort and keep him safe, above all else. When he passed while his children were too young to provide for themselves, that plan went out the window.
Sam's status as an unmated omega virgin is still a currency to this day - just one he cannot leverage on his own, because that's not how the world works. Plenty brothels offering to pay good money for the right to sell his virginity to the highest bidder, which might sound callous, but Sam recognized for the safety net it was. The local prostitues look out for people in danger, and there is no more danger to be in than for someone like Sam.
He should have taken the offer, truth be told. Perhaps John Walker would not have dragged him kicking and screaming, leaving bruises harsh enough to show up on even Sam's rich skin. His thighs are still dry. He's not been used. It was a close call. Ironic, that the pirates would save him from that fate only for one of theirs to take him instead. Sam's situation hasn't improved so much as side-stapped to a parallel path going in the same direction.
He feels protrusions and ridges. He feels it grow, and realizes it to be big.
Sam swallows.
"Will you let me go, if I'm good to you? Before your crew returns."
Because he knows damn well what will happen otherwise, to an unmated omega only recently decanted like fine wine for the first time. He would be made a feast for the ship, and either kept for that, or thrown away. None of that appeals. But like his father, Sam can be practical. He can try to be good, he can try to be compliant, if it will ensure at least partial safety.
This? He knows he cannot prevent. Which is why he does not remove his hand, but pulls the pirate out of his pants instead.
Only to sit back, let go, stare. And then take a deep sip of that offered rum.
no subject
The rest of him is worried that his mate is gonna hate him for the whole thing.
"Nah. But. It's not gonna be how you think." His father courted his mother with prizes from the deep, items from shipwrecks lost to time, civilizations long beneath the waves.
Bucky has some of those things with him. Not all of them; some things would be too risky to keep on a ship full of professional thieves, even with most of them unwilling to piss off their navigator with a short temper.
But there's one thing he has on him: a necklace of sea glass and pearl, with a storm gem inside. The sort of thing of legends, with stories ranging from summoning storms to keeping the wearer from drowning on the high seas. Bucky unclasps it and sets it on the table.
"Ain't got time for a proper courtship," and if he sounds resigned to it, well. He's been an active thron in the side of the Royal Navy since he was sixteen, and he's twenty-one now. Not a lot of opportunities to meet hot single omegas on your area.
"But I don't share." Another drink of the rum. "You gonna hate me for this?"
no subject
The fact that they're having a polite conversation about it should surely feel much more strange to him. Instead he finds himself contemplative, as if he's not just been informed that his virginity will be taken by this pirate with a member like he is a demigod. Takes another sip of rum as well. Lets his eyes track from the pirate's face to the necklace on the table, to the way he can see that cock fill with more blood, grow bigger in every since of the word, ridges glistening with dribbles of slick. He doesn't know everything about sex - he was too young when his parents died, and did not fool around enough to find out. But he knows the basics. Knows that alpha dick isn't supposed to get wet, but imagines it helps the way his own slick does.
He looks back to the necklace. That, too, is extraordinary. Does not compare to the silver and gold on fine ladies, nor even to the precious pearls some favor.
"I am to be your mate." Sam says it like a question, a little. Perplexed, clearly. Reaches up and rubs at the bruising on his arm a little. Doesn't notice that the hastily draped curtain slips a bit, revealing the dark circle of a nipple on one side of his chest. "So you would court me, if you had the time. But I do not get a choice?" He poses the question carefully. Almost conversationally, like they're not drawing the line around Sam's freedom and future here. The fact is that something like this was bound to happen, sooner or later, and he knows it. Nods to the necklace - but doesn't pick it up. Not yet, at least, because to pick it up would be to accept a proposition he needs to understand better first. "Tell me what this is. Is it your payment for my virginity and compliance? Is it a courtship I am to accept so you can have me with consent? Is it a mating gift because you won't just have me, you intend to keep me?"
Even as he speaks, Sam leans forwards a little. Helps open Bucky's loose pants further so that his cock isn't constrained, can jut up from his crotch more freely. He doesn't touch Bucky now - but treats the display of alpha arousal without fear.
"Will you hurt me?"
Because there are bruises on his skin, and there would have been worse if Walker could have had his way.
no subject
"So. It's like this." He opens his hand on the table and tries very hard to ignore everything else happening with his body right now. The rum helps and hinders this project. "Walker, the man whose house you were in? He and I have a bad history. He'd kill you ar once he knew I'd even talked to you, much less wanted you for a mate and kidnapped you out from under him. And the men on this ship, they wouldn't leave you alone unless you were mated to me.
So we could leave. This ship. They'd follow for a while but I can outrun 'em. But I... I don't really know how far we'd get before... I forget what it's like to be around people. How to ask for things first. And that would be dangerous, for you."
Another drink. "But if I let you go, he'd definitely hunt you down for the sport of it. Even if I took you to Pearl's." The head of the brothel the next town over. "And the Navy would let it happen, you know. Given him medals for worse."
no subject
"Here's the thing. I don't want to stay here. I don't want to be mated only as a thin layer of protection from a horde of men used to pillage and plunder as they please. And you're one of them. You have to know that it will not end well for me in the long run. So you can keep me here and I will serve you in your bed, and you will have to wait for the day your crew's desires and boredoms outweigh their fear of your retribution. Keep me here and I'm sure I will please you, and perhaps I will not hate you, but know you will be dooming me to becoming crew property eventually. You will have to live waiting for that day to come, or wondering when I will sleep your grasp enough to find the only way to freedom left when caged and waiting to become plunder."
Sam takes another deep drink. Lets the words hang in he hair. He's grown up practical like this. He knows what Bucky thinks he can prevent will happen, inevitable as the tide. No matter who or what Bucky is, eventually the fear of consequences will no longer stall someone, anyone. And once the first man falls, it is like flood gates opening. Sam has seen this happen. There is no place worse for it than a ship one cannot escape, trapped without the comfort of a soft, slick hole for months on end, bored between raids.
"You can use me, and if you are not cruel I will try to be good to you, and learn what I can in a single night to please you, and then you can send me away. My fate does not need to concern you. You can sail away with your crew, and know I do not resent you for choosing this ship and the people on it over taking care of me. I am a stranger, and you might not have stolen me by accident, but you are not as of yet obligated to me in any fashion. You don't need to feel shame about abandoning me to the whims of the rest of the world once you are done, as you have made no promises yet. And trust me - I do know what those whims are."
The curtain slides to the floor. In the light of the caibin's oil lantern, Sam's dark skin gleams. Bruised dark in places. But oh, he is beautiful.
"You can take me far away, and I will make every effort so I will learn to adore and perhaps even to love you. I will be yours and yours alone, and you can court me as you know an omega should be courted, if you wish to do more than get your dick wet inside of them. You can mate me and you can be free. Because this..." He gestures to the small cabin. "This is not freedom, just because it is your choice."
no subject
He hadn't considered that the men would turn eventually, despite the fact that it seems obvious now that Sam has stated it as a possibility. Also, the vague allusion to Sam possibly drowning just to escape settles uneasy in the pit of his stomach.
"We'll leave, then." He glances around the room, considering the things he'll need to bring with them. "The men won't be happy about it. And I'll need to break into the Captain's quarters, for something of mine."
He finishes his rum and glances down at himself. What are they going to do about the state he's in, though?
no subject
"I don't know what you are. But between this and the jewel you offered, I find it obvious you are something mighty from the depths."
Squeezes Bucky's dick, careful at first, and then a little more enthusiastically. has to use both hands, because Bucky is too big for one.
"How are they keeping you confined to quarters unworthy of you, and keeping away what belongs to you?" Sam looks into Bucky's eyes. Remembers stories of the beasts of the sea. Of the things that can slither between your legs and leave you gifts. Of the things inside the floods. He knows how to pay tithe to the sea for safety. He knows how to respect entities such as this. He scoots closer, so Bucky's cock can rest in the space between Sam's own currently soft dick and his thigh. "Do they not pay tribute to your needs? Do they not see that you wish to court a mate and cannot, kept like a fish in a glass bowl? Do they do for you what you do for them"?
no subject
Sam's people knew. They understood.
His eyes are blue, when Sam looks into them, but there are also lightning storms on the horizon. The vastness of the ocean in his eyes.
"You don't understand," Bucky responds, and it may be then that Sam realizes that while Bucky has power? He's young. "Without them I'd be... mad. Uncontrollable." He touches Sam's arm, runs his hand across soft skin. "They don't really believe. But. They're helping me be more human."
no subject
Gentle, patient while Sam continues to pleasure Bucky's cock. Gets it nice and wet si the cabin fills with the sound of his hand moving on wet flesh.
"I come from fishermen who hold the old faith. I grew up learning to fight if an alpha touches me. But I also grew up learning that if something rises from the tide and wants to slither between my legs, I should feel no fear and let it happen. I don't fear the flood - I've paid tithe to the waves."
He reaches between his legs, gathers slick and adds to the wetness of Bucky's cock.
"You're not meant to be controlled. Youre meant to be wild and free - that does not make you mad. Nor are you meant to serve." He gently draws Bucky in, let's him mouth at Sam's pecs and nipples. Taste the sea salt on his skin. "You don't need to be more human, deep one. I'm sorry they chained you like this."
no subject
There are scars, bright and feesh-looking, all over his left shoulder and down his arm. Like something from a fire, but a normal fire would not affect a creature like him in this way. The more likely culprit is acid.
He lets Sam get a good look at them before he kisses Sam on the lips. Gentle and shy, before he moves his mouth down Sam's chest.
"There is a spearhead in my shoulder. I can't force it out without the bracelet the Captain has from me. Someone shot me, burned me... I don't remember the rest." He did as any wounded creature would do; he fought back. "But there were children on the water. They didn't make it and it was my fault.
He said he was going to help me. So that I would never hurt someone on accident again."
Was it an accident, though? From Bucky's perspective, certainly. Pain and shock have clouded his memory. But from the captain of a pirate ship?
Seems doubtful.
no subject
Shudders at the serendipity of it all. Because perhaps it was not chance that brought them together tonight at all.
"I remember that," he murmurs into Bucky's hair. "I remember you. A vast shadow in the depths, beyond the shallows. You passed by our coast line a few times every year. We celebrated you as a good omen. The fishing grounds were always bountiful after you passed. We swam in the waters without a worry for anything. We gave tithe to you in blood and treasures of the island. Newlyweds made love in the shallows to give tithe to you with their lust. Children were born in the shallows so you would know their cries."
Sam whimpers softly, wet and light headed with knowing who and what has found him.
"I was born in the same waters you come from. I washed my first heat ofd my thighs in them. I remember that year your rage destroyed our town. My best friend drowned, too. I found your gifts on the beach and helped the elders place them upon the graves. And we cursed not you, but the pirates who had been plundering and pillaging our shore for weeks. Who had forged weaponry to use on you. We thought they'd sought to kill you. Now I wonder if they sought to tame you all along, to whip you into a rage and use your guilt as chains."
Sam rises up a little, maneuvers himself to straddle that large cock so Bucky can rub it between the cheeks of Sam's ass.
"Some of us moved away. Some stayed to rebuild. But it was never you we blamed. You're a force of nature, not a malicious creature."
With the wet, slick slide of Buckys cock, Sam lifts Bucky's head, looks into those blue eyes.
"I know you, leviathan. And I never feared you."
no subject
He remembers playing human, wandering the markets with his mother. The old people always knew; his eyes gave him away. The children his age didn't question his presence. There were feasts and festivals.
That year had been his first, to go alone as a young man.
Sam's body feels safe and warm and whole in a way Bucky has not felt in nearly a decade. The scent of his slick calms Bucky's rage and sadness, though they still exist, waves churning in his blood, under the surface. People died so he could be captured and kept like a pet? People he knew and cared for?
He can't drown the boat at the moment but the desire is there. Breathing in tandem with him.
"I will court you. On the shores of islands like your home. It will be done the old way. But I wish to keep you. To make you my mate." He nods a little. "Do you wish this? Do I have your permission?"
no subject
The question is answered easily:
"You have my permission. I wish for your courtship. I wish to say yes to you a thousand times and more, on the shores of countless islands. I will respect you and adore you and love you, and I will become your mate. I shall never fear you. And I shall have you as you are, nothing less."
He whines and whimpers softly, wants Bucky to cum and mark him.
"I want you wild and uncontrollable as the sea. I want you large and dangerous as the waves during a storm. I want you to be you, and you shall be beloved, leviathan."
no subject
So it begins.
"I need to get my bracelet back," he tells Sam. "And then we can leave this ship." Reaching for the necklace Bucky places it in Sam's hands. "This will protect you and keep you safe. Please wear it with my blessings; it will never leave you."
He kisses Sam again on the lips, the nose, the brow. Lifts him and sets him down on the little table. "You should dress." Opening the small chest of clothes. Handing Sam a seaglass handled dagger, also. "The captain's quarters are right above this room; I'm going to climb in through the porthole. If anyone comes in, cut them with this. I'll be right back, okay?"
no subject
He knows he's drunk on the mixture of slick and cum he greedily licked off his deep one's tongue. Knows it's only the beginning - that to be courted and mated, he will be drugged, changed and trained in order to be able to take a creature of the depths for a mate. And serpents like the leviathans are big. Sam cannot believe that after all he has lost and his increasingly gloomy prospects for a future, he is here now. Has been put in position to free a young creature of the sea and help being him back to the old ways he was kept from for too long. Cant believe he has been chosen not just as companion but as future mate.
He picks clothes that will survive the journey while putting the new markings on his skin on display, and making sure there will be easy access to all parts of him for his future mate. Hope's his leviathan will mark him further as time goes on, too.
And then he waits, head swimming with it all. Gripping the dagger tight, waiting. Prepared to do what he can to help his serpent reclaim his glory and Sam's body alike.