Chapter Text
Charles sits on the edge of his bunk, numb and exhausted. Even moving to lay down feels like too much effort. The control panel explosion still echoes in his ears, the frantic look in Oscar’s still eyes haunts him, and the phantom blood still stains his hands.
Oscar blinked drowsily from his bunk, words slurring together. “Sounds like I’llive… goo’news, reckon.”
A thick swallow worked Charles’ throat as he gazed down at the younger man. The heavy bandage wrapped around his upper thigh already showed signs of blood saturation despite the limb’s uncomfortably elevated angle. He nodded uneasily. “That’s what the medic said, yes.”
“M’not… don’wan…” Oscar’s head lolled against the pillow as his eyes dropped closed. “Can’feel my legs…”
“Probably a good thing.” Charles crossed his arms uneasily in front of his chest. “Once the morphine wears off, you’ll probably want more.”
“N-no… nomorphine.” Oscar thrashed feebly against the mattress. “Hate it from las’time… wan’it, need it… hateit.”
Charles stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Oscar’s shoulder, rewarded when the younger man settled down. Tears burned his eye as he imparted a gentle squeeze. “We won’t let you have too much. But it does help.”
Oscar turned his head in a poor, vulnerable attempt to nuzzle into Charles’ touch. “It doesn’hur… feelslike ‘m… ‘m floating.”
The cabin door hinge squeaked open before closing. “Dios mio.” Carlos drew up softly along Charles’ side. “He doesn’t look good.”
Charles shook his head. “No, he doesn’t. We should consider putting into port.”
“Don’fuckin’ doit. Not cause’o me…”
Carlos blinked down at his navigation officer before looking up at Charles in mild alarm. “How much morphine was he given?”
“I didn’t see the dose, but it’s… it just hits him hard.” He didn’t need to tell Carlos about Oscar’s previous healing journey from yet another leg wound. Despite their friendship, he didn’t have full details, but Lando had talked about Oscar’s insatiable craving for morphine once released from hospital. He didn’t know how the Aussie worked to clear himself of that addiction, but having it re-introduced to his body again couldn’t be good.
Charles sighed, hoping to redirect the conversation. “How’s the ship holding up?”
Exhaustion etched deep around Carlos’ eyes, and the toll of responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders. He blinked as he nodded slowly. “We’re holding together. The major leaks have been repaired, and the rigging reinforced – the crew have run themselves to the limit. But they can all rest easy now - Ricky tells me that the ship is airworthy, and everyone has earned an eight hour sleep shift. We’ll hold position for 24 hours and resume the hunt tomorrow.”
Relief and disappointment collided in Charles’ chest. As much as the idea of losing the Dutch Lion sickened him, the men did indeed need a chance to rest.
Carlos continued softly. “We were right about Monza, so we will find him again.”
“Jus’don…” Oscar mumbled slowly as his body succumbed to the powerful drugs. “Don’put me ashore…”
Overwhelming guilt clenches Charles’ stomach as he gasps for breath. It should be him. He needs to be the one laying in his bunk, fighting for survival against a leg wound that threatens to bleed him dry. If he had just stayed at his post, if the Dutch Lion hadn’t attacked from absolutely fucking nowhere -
Tears sting his eye, and he furiously rubs at it. Injuries come in the line of SAD service duty, and Charles has seen far too fucking many at the hands of the Dutch Lion. He lost 16 of 27 men in the attack that cost him his eyesight, and the longer he sits, the smells of burning flesh and the rotting odor of death clog his nostrils as agonized screams reverberate in his ears.
And now? Now, the Dutch Lion has added two more deaths and five injured souls to his cursed name.
He lowers his head to his hands, running his fingers through his oily hair. A deep exhale punches from his chest as he squeezes his eye shut. He wants to forget every last fucking thing, he wants to cut the Dutch Lion’s throat, he wants –
He wants.
Rising from his bunk, he slides the goggles off his head and pulls a leather eyepatch from his locker. He confirms the fit of the patch and loosens the laces of his boots before stepping out onto the walkway. A quiet, sullen air hangs over the central corridor as men rest in their bunks while the skeleton crew keeps the wounded ship on her course.
He knocks on Carlos’ cabin without overthinking it.
“Yes?”
His heart lodges in his throat as he opens the door and steps inside. Carlos sits on the edge of his bunk in sock feet, forearms braced against his knees. His uniform jacket and gold scarf lay forgotten on the desktop next to a picture frame, and the collar of his shirt gaps open with several undone buttons. The lean strength of his shoulders and chest are on full display, and Charles burns to have the full force of it bearing down on him.
Charles looks behind him, reaching for the door lock and turning it closed.
“So this is one of those conversations.” Carlos’ voice sounds thick and heavy as Charles turns back towards him. The Spaniard’s dark eyes study his face for a long moment. “If you’re going to tell me that it should have been you instead of Oscar, I don’t want to hear it.”
Charles bites his bottom lip as a pang of frustration shoots through him. “No… I mean, yes, it should have been me, but that’s not….”
Carlos sits up, straightening his spine as he continues to stare up at Charles. “Then, why are you here?”
A thick swallow works down Charles’ throat. He blinks back towards Carlos’ desk, lingering on the picture frame. An elegant woman poses in a fashionable, respectable gown. The fairness of her skin speaks to a life of luxury, and her natural beauty shines in her demure smile. He nods towards it. “She’s beautiful.”
Carlos darts his gaze across the cabin, also landing on the picture frame. “Yes, she is.” His tongue wets his top lip. “I’m very lucky to have her.”
Charles’ stomach twists and because he’s a glutton for punishment, he doesn’t stop himself. “I hear congratulations are in order… for your soon-to-be engagement.”
Carlos shrugs indifferently. “Our family names both carry a lot of weight and… expectations.” He sighs heavily, and the gravity of it draws Charles’ gaze back to him. “But I know what she likes… and she knows what I like.”
Tension arcs in the air as fire licks down Charles’ spine. He doesn’t have any energy left to pretend, so he doesn’t. Every raw feeling floods through him as he meets Carlos’ eyes, hoping that the older man sees everything that he wants. Understands how Charles wants him to take him apart and silence his mind, to make him remember every inch of tonight with each step that he takes tomorrow.
A visible swallow works down Carlos’ throat as his eyes darken, pupils blowing wide. His lips part to draw a shallow inhale and his voice drops to a low, velvety register. “I can’t make you any promises.”
Charles shakes his head slowly. “I don’t want any promises.” He glances down at his feet, toeing out of his boots and padding across the cabin on sock feet. His pulse quickens as he approaches the bunk, watching Carlos’ head tilt back. He nudges one of Carlos’ knees, dizzy with arousal as the Spaniard spreads his thighs apart. Stepping into the newly created space, Charles reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it overhead. Dark eyes sweep across the newly revealed expanse of skin with molten hunger, and Charles's cock strains against his trousers.
He draws a trembling breath as Carlos’ gaze finds his again. Raising a leg, he plants his knee on the outside of Carlos’ hip before lifting the other. His weight settles on solid thighs as strong hands grip the globes of his ass, stoking the flames higher. Carlos angles his head, crushing their mouths together.
The force of the kiss rips the breath from Charles’ lungs and steals the blood from his brain. Their lips move with bruising pressure, teeth and tongues scraping as liquid fire runs down his spine. Carlos’ fingers dig firmly into the firm skin of his backside, dragging him closer in one harsh, powerful move.
Ragged groans tear from them both as the hard, hot ridges of their cocks connect. The primal sound tightens the tension in Charles's belly, increasing his desperation for Carlos to utterly wreck him beyond comprehension. He drowns in Carlos’ devouring kiss, blindly rolling his hips forward and clawing at the hem of Carlos’ shirt.
The older man lifts his arms, breaking the kiss just long enough for the garment to fall away, and Charles hungrily drinks in the delicious tableau of solid muscles and dark chest chair. His fingers drag through the coarse hair, scraping a blunt nail across a nipple. A hiss passes Carlos’ teeth as he latches on to Charles's skin, sucking on the junction between his neck and shoulder. God, it feels good - fucking perfect - and he needs more.
A pleading whimper crawls up his throat as he claws against Carlos’ back. The older man bites down hard, gripping Charles' hips with bruising force and rolling them onto the bed. Air rushes from Charles’ lungs as his back slams against the mattress, and the intoxicating weight of Carlos bearing down on him makes his head swim. Their mouths reconnect for a harsh, hungry kiss that turns sloppy as their hips grind together.
“What do you need?” Carlos pants into his mouth. “Tell me.”
Charles arches up against him. “Need you in me. Need you to fuck me.”
A primal growl rumbles Carlos’ chest as he thrusts down hard. It holds delicious, dizzying promise, and Charles wants to rip the last of their clothing to shreds. Carlos reaches a hand towards the bedside table, fumbling the top drawer open before dropping a small metal tin on the bedcovers. Lifting his hips, he pushes at his trousers as Charles rushes to follow him.
They kick away the last layers of fabric, and Charles can just see the thick, heavy weight of Carlos’ cock, his mouth watering in anticipation. The lid of the metal tin lifts free, and Charles’ breathing stutters as slick fingers circle his entrance. The first breech burns, and he fights the instinctive urge to tense up.
“Easy, easy.” Carlos breathes against his ear. “Still sure you want this?”
“Fuck.” Charles groans, scraping blunt nails across Carlos’ back as he pushes his hips to take Carlos’ finger deeper. “You just need to fuck me already.”
“You're so fucking tight.” A gasping sigh passes Carlos’ lips. “I don't want to hurt you.”
“I want it to hurt.” Charles scrapes his teeth against Carlos’ shoulder, biting off a cry as Carlos plunges two fingers into him.
“You need to be quiet for me, cariño.” Carlos purrs, sucking an earlobe between his teeth. “No one else is allowed to hear you like this. Just me.”
The words rush to Charles' head, and his spine melts as those long fingers make him lose his mind. He tastes copper as he bites his lip and chokes off whimpers in the back of his throat, rocking blindly into Carlos’ touch.
Carlos pulls his fingers free without warning, and Charles spreads his legs wider as their hips align, the blunt weight of Carlos’ cock pressed against him. Charles’ eyes roll back in his head, burning as the thick, steady slide of Carlos splits him in half. He inhales through clenched teeth before Carlos’ mouth covers his, messily devouring each other in the moment of overwhelming connection.
With slow movements, Carlos withdraws and pushes forward, making Charles see stars. The sheer fullness of Carlos inside him steals his breath as their bodies come together. Each thrust pushes Charles to the edge, raking his nails across Carlos’ back and moaning as Carlos strikes his white hot center.
“There we go.” Carlos groans, snapping his hips at the newly discovered angle. “Fuck, you're perfect like this.”
Charles’ body spins out of control as Carlos drives him against the mattress, pleasure arcing through him with each powerful thrust. His orgasm erupts with blinding force, and Charles cries into the wet heat of Carlos’ mouth as he comes untouched across his belly. Carlos follows him over the edge with a groan, wet heat spreading through Charles with intoxicating bliss.
His mind floats somewhere above his body as Carlos slumps against, both gulping for breath. The cool air stings his sweat-damp, overheated skin as he presses mindless kisses along Carlos’ equally slick neck. He sinks his teeth into the muscle connecting Carlos’ neck and shoulder, rewarded when the older man hisses and his softening cock twitches where it's still buried inside him. A moan passes Charles' lips as he hooks a leg around Carlos’ backside, holding him closer.
Carlos groans a dizzying sound as he nuzzles Charles’ ear. “You want to keep my cock warm, cariño?”
Somehow, the thought of Carlos leaving him opens a chasm in Charles' chest. He sighs with drunken satisfaction. “If I could have you inside of me all night, I would.”
“Fuck, I would keep you so full. Filling you with my seed over and over, watching it drip down your thighs in the morning.”
Charles whimpers, nodding dazedly and clenching around Carlos with eager desire. Another groan tears from the Spaniard as he tries to withdraw his hips. “Dios mio…”
Again, Charles flexes his muscles, squeezing tight as Carlos grips his hip. He repeats the motion, holding the older man inside him as heat reignites his blood. A thrill runs down his spine, drunk as he begins to feel Carlos thicken and pulse where he's still buried deep. He arches into the sensation, letting his body spiral as his own cock infuses with blood. The powerful realization that Carlos hardens inside of him because of him makes his head spin.
Carlos’ fingers tighten around his thigh as his breathing turns harsh. “You are so fucking-”
Charles clenches harder, ignoring the twinge of already sore muscles and starts to rock under Carlos. The shallow movements lick fire down his spine, re-torquing the coils of pleasure in his belly. A needy whimper escapes him as he fucks himself and indulges the heady sensation of Carlos’ cock filling him.
Carlos’ teeth scrape against his neck, and he hopes that Carlos’ hand will leave bruises on his thigh. His cock aches between his legs as though Carlos hasn't just fucked him to the edge of insanity - but fuck, he needs this man again. “Come on,” Charles whispers, breath stuttering as Carlos’ cock drags against his spot of mindless bliss. “I can feel how much you want it.”
A helpless groan passes Carlos’ lips before he snaps his hips forward. Pleasure sings in Charles’ veins as control shifts and Carlos pumps his renewed need into him. Bitten-off cries sound in Charles' throat as his body surrenders to the push and pull of Carlos’ rhythm.
“You're so naughty, cariño. And greedy.” Carlos grunts against his neck. “Taking my cock so well. Inviting me to absolutely ruin you.”
Charles’ heart seizes. “Yes, Carlos… fuck, yes!”
Carlos groans his pleasure, slamming his hips deep and fusing their mouths together. Every nerve-ending burns, overstimulated and alive and desperate. Carlos nips his bottom lip, sucking it between his own. “Say it again.” He pants. “Say it.”
“Want you, Carlos. Please - fuck me. Want you, need you.” The words spill blindly from Charles' lips as blood pounds in his ears. “Make me come.”
“Fuck, cariño.” He wraps a hand around Charles' cock, and Charles arches off the bed. “Come for me, come on.” The harsh pace of his hand matches the punishing rhythm of his hips. “Let me hear how gorgeous you sound wrecked on my cock.”
Charles ceases to exist as every muscle tenses with blinding euphoria. Waves of blissful relief roll through him, dragging Carlos under with a harsh groan as more wet heat floods into Charles. A fuzzy haze fills his mind… and finally, he finds peace.
He doesn't stop Carlos when he pulls away and drops onto his belly next to Charles in the narrow bunk. Their ragged breathing fills the cabin, and Carlos’ cheeks hold a delicious flush as his dark eyes roam Charles's face. “You…” He pauses to draw a deep breath. “You will be the death of me, I swear.”
Charles can only summon a weak nod as he tries to recover the use of his limbs. His muscles tremble from overuse, a pleasant ache suffusing his body, and - well, sleep shouldn’t be a problem now.
He just needs to make it back to his cabin.