August 2003
| Making Peace
by coreopsis and jennywren Rating: NC-17 Notes: "The Dread Pirate Carter" is, obviously, Disclaimer: This is clearly a work of fiction, since neither Nick Carter, Kevin Richardson, nor any of the other Backstreet Boys have ever sailed the Spanish Main. As far as we know. |
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Nick propped a booted foot on the rail and stared at the merchant vessel his ship was fast approaching. One hand rested on the hilt of the sword at his waist. The fingers of his other hand stroked rhythmically over the thin strip of leather tied around his neck in a habit that went back to the day he became cabin boy for the previous captain of this ship, who had laughed uproariously upon learning that Nick's last name really was Carter. The man that Nick knew as the Dread Pirate Carter confessed his name was actually Kirkpatrick and that the fates had surely sent Nick to be his successor. He had trained Nick accordingly, and Nick had taken over when Kirkpatrick finally had enough wealth to retire as a gentleman. "She's ridin' low," murmured a voice at Nick's side. He didn't bother looking at Howie, just nodded. "Think this'll be the one?" Nick glanced at up at Aaron, manning the wheel under Brian's watchful eye. The future Dread Pirate Carter had recently had a growth spurt but he was still very much a boy in Nick's estimation. "Not yet. He's not ready." "Cap'n! Ship off the port stern. She's comin' in fast!" The shout came from the crow's nest. "It's the Sea Rose!" Nick glanced at Howie then crossed the deck and started to climb the rigging so he could get a better view. He caught the spyglass that Howie tossed him, raised it to his eye, and let loose with a quiet string of profanity. Just when he'd thought he'd shaken the man for good, Richardson turned up like a bad penny. If it was a fight he wanted, Nick would be glad to give it to him. He could catch up with the merchant later. Nick yelled down at the quarter deck, "Brian, take the wheel, get us into position. Men, we're gonna take care of the great southern pansy once and for all." A ragged cheer went up from the crew as they went about preparing for battle. They were as sick of being dogged by the privateer as Nick was. With all the vastness of the seas of the world at their disposal, there was no reason for all this competition. Now if only he could make Richardson see that without steel and blood and cannonballs. The Blue Dolphin, Nick's schooner, could have reached the merchant ship much quicker than Richardson's brigantine, but there would still be a fight, so Nick preferred to get it over with first so he could do his pillaging in peace. Nick stuck the spyglass in his sash and climbed quickly back down to take his place on the quarter deck next to Brian. He ordered Aaron to take down the white pursuit flag and send up the battle flag of crossed swords on a black background. He'd taken off the laughing skull of Kirkpatrick's flag because he'd never been comfortable with the sight of death laughing at him from above. The Sea Rose was flying a flag of red and black, indicating that perhaps Richardson was sick of the competition as well, but had a rather bloody end in mind. Richardson was standing on the deck of his ship, close enough now that Nick could see him smile and tip his hat. Nick sneered and pulled a pistol from his sash, but decided to give reason a try before firing, just for a refreshing change of pace. "I saw her first! There's plenty of sea for you and your--" Nick dropped his voice too low for the other captain to hear and muttered "band of merry idiots" then raised it again "--your fine crew. Perhaps a bit further to the west you could find a nice fat Spanish galleon." Richardson didn't reply at first, just stood watching Nick with his hand on the hilt of his sword, then finally shouted, "Permission to come aboard?" Nick threw back his head and laughed until tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He pointed to the flag high over Richardson's head and replied, "No mercy? Hah!" Without taking his eyes off Nick, Richardson spoke to the heavily tattooed man beside him who scurried away and took the flag down. "Just to talk." Nick blinked and glanced down at Howie who shrugged, apparently sharing Nick's bafflement. While it was very rare that Nick actually killed anyone, the threat was very real when he raised his pistol and nodded. "Just you." Howie tugged at his sleeve and motioned hopefully. "And him," added Nick pointing at the tattooed man. "No weapons." Richardson motioned to his crewman and they both began removing their weapons. After several moments, a sizeable pile of pistols and daggers was topped with a pair of cutlasses, and two men began preparing to board. Watching it all through narrowed eyes, Nick wondered what the man was up to and kept wondering even when he was standing on the main deck facing Richardson from three feet away, closer than they'd ever been before. Richardson was every inch the dandy in his fancy frock coat, crisp white shirt, and highly polished boots. He swept his hat off and sketched a bow, glancing up at Nick through a veil of long black hair. He didn't smile, but his eyes said he wanted to. Having no hat to tip, Nick merely inclined his head and held his hands out to each side to show they were free of weapons. "To what lunacy do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company?" Richardson's mouth quirked and he said simply, "Peace. Not a very lunatic concept surely?" "Peace? It could be." Nick stepped forward and motioned to the stairs under the poop deck. "Why don't we get out of the sun and discuss this in my quarters?" It was an order phrased as a question and Howie immediately jumped to attention, leading the two guests below deck, while Nick looked pensively back over at the Sea Rose. After a moment he removed his sash and all his weapons, gave Brian leave to sink the other ship if anyone made the slightest hostile move, and then went below. Nick opened the door to his quarters to find Richardson sitting at the table, drink in hand. His hat hung on one of the numerous pegs on the wall and his hair had been swept behind his ears. He was a handsome devil with fine strong features, but Nick's suspicious nature wouldn't allow him to appreciate this fact as much as he would under other circumstances. "At the risk of repeating myself, what brings you here, Captain Richardson?" "This is some mighty fine brandy." Richardson lifted his tankard for another sip, then licked his lips clean. "And please, call me Kevin." "Why?" Nick raised an eyebrow and remained standing. "I'm trying to make peace here. Would it not be easier were we less formal, more...personal? Your man took AJ away to the galley with a particularly personal look in his eye." Nick rolled that thought around for a moment. If the man were sincere, Nick's life would certainly become much easier. If he weren't, well, Nick still had the upper hand and could kill him at any time. "And what shall I call you, Captain Carter?" Richardson's eyes twinkled as if he found the whole thing amusing in some secret way that made Nick's hand itch to strike him. Or do something to him, anyway. Walking slowly around the table, Nick stopped just behind Richardson and leaned down next to him. "The name's Nicholas, but you can call me Nick." "Not the superstitious sort, eh?" Richardson turned his head slightly to make eye contact. "I'm surprised you don't have a woman on board then." "It would distract the crew." "But not you?" "I'm more...focused." "I like that in a man. Lack of superstition shows strength of character." "Does it? Hmm." Nick straightened and stepped directly behind Richardson, just to see what he would do. "Brian says I'm asking for trouble with such a name." "A cautious man, your first mate." Nick raised an eyebrow at the familiarity with his crew but said nothing. "I've been asking questions, collecting stories about you and your crew." Nick hummed and took a step to one side, so that Richardson would be able to see him from the corner of his eye. "And what, pray tell, have you heard?" "You're widely feared, yet have been known to show mercy on a few notable occasions." Richardson took a sip of his brandy and smiled. "Some even say you're a reasonable man." Nick walked around until he faced Richardson again. "And that's what brings you here today? You're in need of some mercy and reason?" "Well, not quite. But a man known for such qualities might be more willing to talk and listen instead of killing me outright." "If I were going to kill you outright," Nick placed his hands on the table and leaned over until his face was mere inches from Richardson's, "you'd already be feeding the sharks at the bottom of the sea. Kevin." Kevin set his tankard aside and stood up. "Aren't you tired of this rivalry? Wouldn't you like to stop?" Surprised to hear his earlier thought coming from his apparent enemy, Nick straightened abruptly and stepped back. "What are you playing at?" Kevin circled the table and approached Nick with apparent caution. "Just what I said. We should declare a truce." "You could have done that by, oh I don't know, leaving me the hell alone while I took that merchant," Nick snapped, hands clenching into fists as many odd and conflicting feelings sleeted through him. The most surprising among them was arousal. Kevin stepped closer, his tall lean body moving into Nick's personal space. Nick could see the sweat glistening on the tan column of his neck, and his mouth watered. He shook his head and stood his ground. "What do you really want?" "A truce, just as I said. You promise to leave the Sea Rose alone and I'll stop cutting in on the Blue Dolphin's captures." Kevin looked Nick up and down and smiled. "Simple enough, don't you think?" Nick ignored the tingle racing down his spine and nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, very simple, so forgive me if I'm still looking for your angle." "No angle. I'm just tired of competing. The sea is more than big enough for the two of us." "I've often thought so." Nick finally smiled back and asked, "And the flag?" "Merely a habit. We struck the joli rouge the moment you objected. This is all in good faith, you see." "Your accent is good." "Half my crew is French." "But you're not. You smell too good." "Thank you for noticing." "It's hard not to." And truly, at this point, the two men were almost touching. Kevin's breath fluttered lightly against his face. "I don't trust anybody, least of all southern pansies." "You--" Kevin snapped his mouth shut, then tilted his head. "You're trying to provoke me because you're uncomfortable." "I could kill you where you stand." Nick could feel the heat of Kevin's body, the bottom edge of his coat brushing against the front of Nick's pants, the air between them charged as if the second before a lightning strike. "But..." Kevin licked his lips and spoke in a near whisper, "But?" "You're unarmed." Nick swallowed hard and forced his voice to steady. "It wouldn't be honorable." Kevin quirked a brow and chuckled. "Honor among pirates? That's a good one. Nobody told me you had such a wonderful sense of humor." Nick raised a hand, unsure of what he was going to do with it until it landed lightly on Kevin's chest. He twisted his fingers in the prissy folds of cotton and said, "Maybe I should kill you after all. Then I'd have less competition and my reputation would remain intact." "Your reputation is in no danger from me." Kevin glanced down at Nick's hand and then back up to Nick's eyes. "My valet will be very unhappy with you for that." "Your valet can kiss my ass." Nick removed his hand, resisting the urge to smooth the fabric over Kevin's hard chest. He'd already gone too far, putting his hands on the man. There was no need to take this into the sort of territory that captains didn't sail together. But a wicked little voice in the back of his mind told him to do it anyway. What use was propriety between pirates anyway? Staring into Kevin's eyes, Nick could practically see similar thoughts swirling through his mind. He pressed his lips together and then let out a silent breath. "So...we should seal this truce somehow." "Yes," murmured Kevin, leaning forward and even before Nick had fully acknowledged his decision he was falling into Kevin's kiss, which was excitingly strange and yet like coming home at the same time. Their mouths met and clung, parted and met again. Myriad sensations--the heat of Kevin's lips, the flavor of his breath, the iron grip of his hands on Nick's shoulders--wound through Nick, tightening his stomach and making his cock twitch. With one last flick of his tongue against Kevin's, he pulled away to catch his breath. He loosened his hold on Kevin's hips, hardly remembering when he'd put his hands there. "So this is a truce, is it?" Nick rubbed a hand over his still tingling lips, wondering how long he'd feel Kevin's imprint. "It can be," said Kevin with a tiny sigh, as he reached down and adjusted himself delicately through his breeches. "I'm utterly sincere." Nick had nothing to say to that, so he reached out for Kevin again, pulling him closer. When he was pressed against Kevin's long, firm body, he licked Kevin's throat and whispered, "Let's call another truce" against the damp skin. Kevin tilted his head back and moaned, which Nick took as a yes. He tugged Kevin's coat off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it drop to the floor. When Kevin made no comment about his valet's delicate feelings, Nick tangled his fingers in Kevin's silky hair and kissed him again, hot and deep, sinking into Kevin like it was the most natural thing in the world. When Kevin pushed Nick back against the table, Nick went willingly, clutching at Kevin with eager hands and lifting his legs to circle Kevin's hips, needing him closer, so much closer. Kevin's weight bore Nick onto the table, licking inside Nick's mouth and biting at his lips. Nick's fingers clumsily scrabbled at Kevin's shirt, knuckles slipping over buttons and underneath fabric, feeling hard muscle flutter against his palms with every breath Kevin took. Nick growled into Kevin's mouth, frustrated at not being able to get purchase with Kevin kissing him like that. Nick tugged at the fabric until it tore open, breaking away from Kevin's lips to look at the man. Stare was more like it, Nick watched his own dark tanned fingers run up and down over the paler skin of Kevin's chest, dipping lower and lower with each stroke until his fingers were running along the waistline of Kevin's breeches. Kevin plucked Nick's hands away, moving to hold them above Nick's head with one hand as he leaned forward, meticulously licking over Nick's neck and collarbone. Kevin rocked against Nick's cock slowly until Nick was panting and hard and how could Kevin call this a truce when he was teasing like this? Nick moved his legs from around Kevin's waist, planting his boots down flat on the table with a thud. He wrapped his arms around Kevin's back and pulled Kevin to him, then used his body weight to turn them over with a grunt. The unsteady table shook, and Nick startled when the tankard Kevin had been drinking from earlier hit the floor with a metallic crash. Kevin chuckled, and before Nick had regained his wits about him to retort, Kevin's left hand had somehow gotten all of the laces apart on Nick's breeches, fingers sliding smoothly inside. Nick bit his lip and decided to keep all comments to himself--that felt so good--but then Kevin's thumb flicked the head of Nick's cock and a moan escaped his lips before he could help himself. He looked up to see Kevin smirk at him, sexy and knowing, and Nick growled again, yanking his shirt off over his head and tossing it across the room. He pulled his breeches down over his hips before climbing on top of the table, one hand yanking on Kevin's pants while the other tugged tightly on his hair, pulling Kevin's mouth up to meet his in a hungry kiss. A few tugs and shifts later, Nick was stroking Kevin's long, slender cock and biting along the shell of Kevin's earlobe, licking around golden earrings while trying not to shudder from what Kevin was doing to him. He was a smart man, Kevin, somehow finding Nick's weak spot at the base of his neck and sucking so hard Nick thought it would leave a mark. The prospect of Kevin's mark on him made him shudder more, his body thrusting forward into Kevin's hand, knees and elbows digging into the wood grain of the table as he moved. Kevin's breath hitched at the movement and Nick changed his pattern, stroking fast-fast-slow-fast and moving his mouth from Kevin's neck and ears back over to his mouth, tongue delving inside and tasting him again, still sweet with brandy, still new and yet somehow familiar, too. Nick could feel his release stirring but he wanted to hold off, wanted this to last, wanted to keep touching and kissing and stroking. He was enjoying the lust that was written across Kevin's face as his back arched up from the table underneath them every time Nick would move his hand up slowly to drag it out. Kevin's arms reached behind Nick and cupped his ass, fingers brushing along the cleft before sliding Nick's body even closer to him. Nick's cock twitched from the harder friction against it. A deep moan from Kevin's lips rumbled through Nick's own mouth before he felt wetness spreading over his fingers, felt Kevin's body shudder against his. Nick's cock was aching now. Kevin moved and wrapped his left leg around Nick's back, then tightened his grip on Nick's cock while the other hand reached lower and cupped him, squeezing slightly until Nick couldn't take it anymore, feeling himself let go, too. Nick lay his forehead against Kevin's, eyes closed and not looking, but he could feel that famously intense gaze on him. He stayed still, wanting to catch his breath, not knowing what the next move was. Murmuring Nick's name, Kevin pushed at his shoulders until Nick lowered his feet to the floor. Kevin prodded him gently, encouraging him off the table and across the room to the bed tucked into the corner. When Nick was sprawled out on the bed, Kevin removed Nick's boots and skinned his breeches all the way off. Then he stared down at Nick's body with a wicked grin. As his body started to respond again--already--Nick looked up at Kevin with drowsy surprise. At this rate, they could make peace well into the night. He rather hoped the dawn didn't come. The end. Back |