Rating: NC-17

In the loft, Jim became aware that his roommate was no longer watching the movie -- oh no, HE was watching Jim. "What?"

Blair was sitting crossed-legged on the couch facing his partner. "I was just thinking," he began.

"Uh oh."

"I WAS just thinking," he continued, giving his partner a glare, "about what you would look like in a film like that." Blair's eyes were half closed and he had that cat-about-to-get-the-cream look about him.

Jim smiled, unable to resist teasing his friend. "You casting yourself as the damsel-in-distress, Chief?"

Blair sighed in exasperation. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of you as the British Commander come to capture the dashing and dangerous 'Captain Blair'!"

"Dangerous? I'd soon have you locked in irons and be shivering your timbers." Jim moved them both so he was lying atop his lover on the couch.

Blair wiggled slightly to get more comfortable, causing the larger man to give a soft sigh. "Tough Guy, you can swash my buckle any time. But I'd soon have that British officer eating out of my hands, convince him that life as Pirate Blair's first mate would be much more... profitable!" He grinned lecherously and his hand moved down to Jim's ass in an effort to pull Jim's body closer, but his lover pulled slightly away.

"FIRST mate?" Jim frowned.

"Well, I guess you would be my only mate, but you'll have to persuade me that you'll be worth it. Your elevation from captive to first mate may upset the rest of my crew."

Blair's eyes twinkled and Jim couldn't resist moving his body back down to gently rub his groin against his partner's. "Oh, I think I could persuade you of the error of your ways," Jim whispered as he lowered his head to kiss those inviting lips.

"Yes," Blair breathed as they pulled back, just a little, for air. "Splice my main brace and all hands on dick!" and he pulled Jim down again to kiss his man senseless thwarting Jim's attempt at laughter and giving his mouth something better to do.

Later that night

Blair lay back on the bed, sated and relaxed. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, a contented smile on his face....

The Wolf

The battle was lost when Commander Ellison fell to his knees, his hands clamped over his ears, lost in some sort of a daze. His men were quickly routed and disarmed, their spirits broken once their commanding officer was incapacitated. They were escorted below decks and a skeleton crew from 'The Sea Wolf' was placed aboard Ellison's frigate, 'The Sovereign'.

James Ellison was helped below to the captain's cabin and left, almost unconscious, in a chair, the room secured from the outside. After a while, he recovered his wits and took in what had happened. He'd endangered his men, lost his command, and damned near gotten himself killed, not to mention that they were now at the mercy of one of the most wanted pirates of them all, and all because of these cursed senses of his!

He walked over to the window and slammed the flat of his hand on the wooden surface beside it, disgusted with himself. Damn and blast! He remembered the scream of pain coming so sharply right next to him which had broken his concentration, and suddenly the clash of weapons, the moans and shouts of injured men, even the sound of the churning sea, had all come roaring into his head, overloading his system and rendering him helpless.

James looked down at his hands, now clenched into fists, and slowly released them, breathing out his tension. He had to stay focused. His ship was probably more or less seaworthy; he hadn't heard any sounds that would indicate otherwise, like it being blown out of the water. He wanted... needed... to know about his crew. If they were alive and well, there was a chance of recovering their vessel and escaping to fight another day. However, at present, he was trapped with no weapons and no visible means of escape. He would have to rely on information, information that could only come via his captor.

The man puzzled James. This pirate known as The Wolf had had the perfect opportunity to kill him, yet here James was with barely a scratch on him. It made no sense and James hated leaving puzzles unsolved.

James had a long time to ponder The Wolf's motives. Finally, the door was unlocked and swung open to admit the young captain, who was carrying a tray of food. James pulled himself up straight and stood to attention.

"Commander Ellison, please sit, join me. Be comfortable." An open smile graced the man's face.

James clasped his hands behind his back and stood stiffly.

The younger man chose to ignore the stance. "I'm sorry I had to leave you here alone for so long. I was checking on the condition of the injured men and of both our ships -- or rather of both my ships." He took an apple and bit into it as he sat and put his feet on the table. The crunch seemed loud in the room. "Mmmm, fresh fruit... we don't get it very often, but I make sure my crew gets some as often as possible. Helps to beat the scurvy." He tossed the half-eaten apple to James, who automatically caught it. "Good catch!"

Ellison blushed, setting the fruit down and quashing the unexpected flush of pleasure at the compliment. "How are my men?" he asked.

Blair 'The Wolf' Sandburg straightened and sat up. He broke off a chunk of bread, dipping it in a bowl of broth before answering. "To a large extent, they're well. Most of the injuries have been patched up thanks to our excellent surgeon, Mr. McKay. Your crew is surprisingly loyal to you, despite the fact that the British are known to not to pay their 'recruits'." He spoke around a mouthful of food. "Are you sure you won't join me? Our cook has excelled himself."

The commander shook his head. "When can I see them?"

"Soon. I'd offer you officer's quarters to rest in, but we don't really have that kind of room, and as I'm sure you'll understand, I'd prefer to keep you on board this ship."

Blair wiped his hands on a piece of cloth by the tray. "Indeed, you could share my own cabin, but I don't think you'd like my terms. You see, I only have the one hammock, the floor's hard, and my bunk is covered with maps and books, so you'd have to sleep with me." He wiped his mouth and gazed at James over the top of the cloth, his bright blue eyes twinkling.

James cleared his throat and resisted the urge to loosen his collar a little. "I prefer to bunk down with my men, thank you." He groaned inwardly at his own words. This man confused him. He thought he knew what the conversation was all about, but he wasn't sure. It felt as if he was being played with and that he didn't like.

He focused on the lantern that swung gently over the table.

James came to at the touch of a hand gently rubbing his arm, and he stumbled forward, groaning as he realized what had happened.

"Hey... hey, it's all right. I've got you. You're safe."

The commander scoffed, "You have a strange idea of the word 'safe', Captain Sandburg."

"Blair. Please call me Blair. And you're right, you're my captive -- for the moment. But I hope you will find me a more hospitable captor than your superiors would be towards me." He shuddered. "I have no desire to hang from a gallows nor to be drawn and quartered, thank you."

James turned to look at the man maneuvering him into a chair.

"Now tell me, what brings these black spells on? Is it sound, bright flashes of light... that kind of thing?" Blair was asking.

James answered reluctantly. "Yes... and smells, sometimes taste."

"And touch...? Do your clothes itch? Do you feel as though your skin's crawling? Does the sensation drive you mad?"

"YES! YES! What do you know about this? What are you... some form of witch?" James finally lost what control he had and grabbed the smaller man, propelling him against the cabin bulkhead, causing objects to roll and the walls to tremble.

The door flew open and three of Blair's men stood in the doorway, knives drawn to defend their captain.

"It's all right." Blair calmly held up his hand. "Commander Ellison knows he has nowhere to go. He was just showing me a little hand-to-hand." He could see the fear and frustration beneath Ellison's rage.

Two of the men snickered. The third asked, "You sure, Captain?"

James let Blair down and turned away.

The captain straightened and turned to face his men. "Yes, I'm sure. The men been fed?"

"Yes, sir. We're just settling the ship for the night."

"Good. I'll be on deck shortly. And Brown? Please wait outside. Mr. Ellison will be joining his men."

"Aye, sir."

The door closed and Blair turned. "Commander, I'm no witch, nor are you bewitched. I've heard of something similar. But... it's late and we're both tired. I have duties to perform. We'll talk in the morning."

James wanted to force the issue, but recognizing that he was exhausted himself, he allowed Brown to escort him below decks with barely a murmur.

With accustomed grace, the commander bowed his head before entering the hold. The door had a heavy padlock on it, a necessary precaution given that this was where ship's stores were kept. James gazed around, his eyes adjusting to the level of darkness quickly. Bundles and barrels, the food and drink The Wolf had stolen from James' own vessel and the Sea Wolf's own stores. These were the most valuable things on board. To steal or contaminate them would be foolish and leave both crews with no provisions to survive the peculiarities of the sea. In amongst them were bales of silk and canvas, plus barrels of rum and chests of tools -- plunder from other ships.

"Sir, we thought you were dead!" The voice of his first mate carried across the room and drew James over to where the man half lay against the hull.

"I'm sorry we lost the ship." Joel Taggart sounded guilty, as though he held himself responsible for the loss of the Sovereign.

"Joel, it's all right, everyone did their best." Except me, James thought. He bent to check the bandages that covered the man's head and arm. "How is it?" he asked quietly, indicating his first mate's injuries.

"Not so bad, sir. Their 'saw-bones' is pretty good. Trained in the east by what he said. Fixed me and most of the men well and good."

"How many did we lose, Joel?" James looked around, trying to gauge how many he could see. Most were lying up against the walls and bales. All looked about as weary as he felt and some wore cloth bandages the same as Taggart. All eyes were looking his way.

"About seven," Joel answered softly. "Morris, Cooper, Clark, young Shaun; we don't know what happened to Mr. Davies, Sarris, and Smithson."

James closed his eyes and sighed. Shaun was the youngest of his crew and the one with the least fighting experience.

He raised his voice to carry around the room, "What about the rest of you? Have you been well treated, fed, your needs seen to?"

A chorus of "Aye, sir" rang out.

"Apparently the Sea Wolf took on fresh supplies just before we found her," Joel piped up. "We've been well fed." He patted his belly with his good hand and James smiled.

He slumped down beside his first mate. "Has anyone told you what's to be done with us?"

Joel's eyes narrowed. "There was talk amongst the crew of slavery, but the young captain gave us a choice. We can either join him as part of his crew or he'll put us down near British territory and we can try to find a ship that will take us home."

"That's the option I want," a small voice came from near the back. "My wife had just had our first child when I was press-ganged. I'd like to see then both again. If this pirate can be trusted to keep his word." Men shifted and murmured at his words.

"If Captain Sandburg says you'll be allowed your freedom, then he meant it," Ellison barked, surprising himself with the conviction behind his words. "He may be the scourge of our ships, but I've heard nothing to indicate he's not a man of his word. You've all got full bellies and been tended to, right? We just have to bide our time. If we get a chance to take back The Sovereign, then we take it. Until then we take advantage of our host's hospitality." That brought some chuckles from his crew, but it had taken a lot out of Ellison and he slumped back, suddenly realizing how tired he was.

"What about you, sir? Did The Wolf offer you the same choice?" Joel asked after a moment.

"Not exactly." James smiled and turned to his friend. "Try to sleep, Joel, we all need our rest."

But rest didn't come to James Ellison. His mind was full of the young captain who slept a deck above, the sound of his heartbeat and the small movements he made in his sleep drowning out all other sounds and filling the captured man's body with longing.

Breakfast the next morning was a thin porridge and watered-down ale, drawn from the Sovereign's supplies James assumed by the taste. After he'd eaten, he was again taken to the captain's cabin.

"Good morning, Commander. Sleep well?"

"I was comfortable, thank you."

"Good, good. I've found a small island, a British protectorate, where you and your men should be safe." Blair pointed to a part of the map covering the table.

"You're allowing us to leave?" Despite his words to his crew, James still had his doubts.

"Contrary to the opinion of your superiors, I do not kill unless necessary. I gave your men a choice and I intend to stand by that. I, too, lost some of my crew yesterday, and would welcome more hands. However, my supplies are, of course, limited and I don't need extra mouths to feed. As for your ship.... " He moved to perch on the edge of the table, away from the edge of the map. "I did think of renaming her The Panther. She's sleek and fast, but then she would be a draw on resources, so I could either destroy her or sell her. What do you think I should do?" He watched James bristle at the mention of the fate of his ship. "Anyway, I was thinking that you might not wish to return home... nor care what happens to your vessel." Blair put down the divider he'd been toying with.

"What? You would have me join you!" James roared, incredulously. "Why wouldn't I wish to return home?"

"Your senses... they're all enhanced, aren't they? You can see, hear... " Blair moved up to James, who tried not to move back, "... feel more than any other man you've ever known. Am I correct?"

Ellison nodded sharply. "How do you know this?"

The young captain moved away, leaving James suddenly much colder. "We 'liberated' a slaver, returned the slaves to the North African coast. One of them, Simon, joined my crew. He learned English and French, told me a story about a couple that never made it to the slaver. The man was a warrior, the tribe's 'Watchman', with five heightened senses, his role was to watch for approaching enemies, change in the weather, the movement of game, to protect the tribe from danger. Sadly, this time, he failed. His wife was his guide. She anchored him, brought him out of any of the black voids an overload of his senses could cause. She died on the beach, protecting him as he tried to protect the tribe. He followed her, lost in a void, cradling her body and silently screaming." Blair stared out of the window.

"You think I could be one of these 'Watchmen'?"

"'Sentinel' would be a more apt word, but yes."

"I don't have a wife."

"Well, good." Blair grinned.

"And I want to get rid of them."

"Why? They're a gift. You have no idea what you could be capable of, once someone helps you gain control of them."

"They're a curse!" James barked, then his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I'm guessing you have someone in mind to help me with them?"

The Wolf leaned back against the table and crossed his legs at the ankles. "Now that you mention it, I did bring you out of the void, and... " his voice became deeper, more seductive as his eyes pinned James down, "... can you really tell me that you're not drawn to my voice, to me?"

"No! I'm not!" James denied vehemently.

"Pity," Blair sighed. "I could have helped you. I learned a lot when returning those slaves. And you would have been very useful on my ship."

"What as? Your sensual plaything?"

Blair chuckled. "I wouldn't say that the idea is unattractive, but I could use a good man with an eye like yours and with your skills in fighting... well, you are a match for me."

Again James shook his head, trying to clear it of the spell the young captain seemed to spin. "I... just... want... to get rid of them!" he said as forcefully as he could through clenched teeth.

"I don't know how to help you get rid of them! But I could help you to control them."

"And what would you get out of this?"

"The opportunity to convince you to stay with me... on board this ship."

"And if I decline?"

"Then, with some regret, I will put you off on the nearest friendly island where you can find a ship bound for England. Give me... Give me one week, Commander. If, after that one week, you haven't noticed some improvement in what you can do, then you'll be free to leave. How does that sound?"

James nodded slowly. "One week, Captain Sandburg, just one week."

It was the single most difficult, frustrating, intoxicating week Commander Ellison had ever experienced. Over half of his men had opted to be put ashore: some to work their way home, others to start fresh lives. Of those who signed on to become part of the Sea Wolf's crew, a large number, including Midshipman Rafe and Joel Taggart, stayed because their commanding officer was staying.

Blair managed to offload the Sovereign on to the British, through one of their agents and at a good price. And the conjoined crew quickly learned that it was in their own best interest to move out of the way when the commander came storming out of the captain's quarters, and to avoid both men till they had calmed down. Blair's second officer, Simon Banks, was the only one who knew about James Ellison's senses, and he, Taggart, Rafe and Brown watched the two men dance around each other, breaking away, then moving together again, each needing the other.

James fumed and resisted. The tests Blair came up with were not helping; they were too complicated, too irrelevant. He just wanted control and he wanted it now. Blair would encourage, cajole, and when that didn't work, he tried sarcasm and shouting. It seemed at times to be a battle for supremacy, both men having to concede a little in order to gain a lot.

But it was Blair's proximity that really caused James to zone and to curse. The light touches on James' skin that could promise so much or so little, giving both encouragement and comfort. Blair's voice could bring James out of a black zone, its tone both commanding and compelling. The scent of the man, warm and masculine, and his appearance... God, the glimpses James got of Blair's body... the shirt, loose and open, allowing a hint of chest hair to peek through, his breeches... by all the saints, how tempting they were! While walking up the steps, bending to pick something up... Blair always seemed to be teasing the commander's senses... tormenting him, driving James crazy.

Even eating with the captain proved a dangerous threat to James' equilibrium. Blair would eat with his fingers, licking, sucking the juice from his fingers, all the while keeping those shining blue eyes on James. It was enough to make a grown man whimper -- at least this one grown man. Yet the exercises the pirate guided the officer through began to help, and when something Blair suggested worked, his face would light up and James would be caught up in the glow. Gradually, by degrees, James was able to regulate his senses, and he began to use them to focus primarily on Blair.

There was a feeling of tranquility standing on the deck after dark, James decided. He could hear the boat creaking, the waves lapping, the sonorous sounds of men asleep, and above it all, over-riding it, were the sounds of the man who was becoming more familiar to him, more necessary, than any other person in his life.

James gazed out across the darkened sea that was lit only by the stars. A breeze penetrated his clothing, sending tiny pinpricks of pleasure over his skin. In only a few days, he'd found he could enjoy these sensations without always being lost in that emptiness that plagued him, and the small amount of control he'd gained was thanks to the same man whom he'd been sent to capture and bring to justice for looting British ships.

He hadn't wanted the assignment. There was so much unrest at home and after reading the reports about The Wolf, the commander couldn't really understand why his superiors were in such an all-fired hurry to clap the pirate in irons. Blair raided British ships, yes, but for the most part, the crews were left unharmed. Their cargos were taken, but the men left with enough food and water for the ships to make it to the nearest port. It seemed to James that The Wolf had been carrying on his 'work' for a while, and nothing had been done till recently, when a new admiral had been appointed.

He sighed. If The Sovereign hadn't been ordered to attack, if his men had had more experience, if they'd had a good reason to put their lives on the line, if he hadn't frozen... then James would not have meet the enigmatic, energetic Blair Sandburg.

The air around him shifted and James closed his eyes again, feeling the heat, hearing the heartbeat, scenting his... what? guide? teacher?... coming towards him as if drawn by James' thoughts.

"Peaceful, isn't it?"

"Up to a point," James answered dryly, opening his eyes.

"Sorry. I'll leave you to it." Blair started to turn away.

"No, don't. I meant that even at night, the air's full of sounds, just not as many as during the day. That's all."

Blair leaned back, resting his arms on the rail and, for a moment, the two men stood in peace, just enjoying each other's company.

"Tell me, Commander, am I helping you or am I just an annoying necessity?"

"You're helping."

The young captain almost bounced back on his heels, his eyes shining with pleasure. "You really think so?"

James smiled. "Yes, I really think so."

"Good, good." Blair placed his hand on James' shoulder and squeezed just a little before his hand fell away. Still feeling the residual heat, James wished he had the courage to take that hand and return it to his shoulder. Instead, he reached out and ruffled the younger man's hair, taking care not to catch the silver hoop that gleamed in one ear.

"Hey, don't mess with the hair, my friend. It's my own, no wig required." But Blair's smile belied his indignant words.

"Are you making fun of my hair, Sandburg?"

"More the lack of it, Ellison."

For a long moment, the two men looked at each other, taking in the friendship that seemed to be growing between them, then James turned away. "Well, I'll bid you good night, Captain."

"Good night, Commander. If you find sleep eludes you, you know the way to my cabin."

James laughed and shook his head. But sleep didn't come. He heard the young man climb into his hammock. Heard the sounds of shifting clothes and skin touching skin, Blair's hand moving over his own chest, stroking, pinching his nipples, down lower to his navel, circling it before continuing its journey to Blair's cock. James groaned softly as, cabins away, he could hear Blair jack off, finally coming with a muted, breathy cry of "James!" on his lips. The commander couldn't help himself and joined Blair in his own orgasm. He cleaned himself off as best he could and then drifted off to sleep.

The following day, James zoned badly during a mock sword fight with one of the crew. The blade had caught the light as it sliced through the air, and if Blair hadn't knocked him out of the way, Ellison could easily have lost an ear. James stood and stormed off to the captain's cabin, his face full of rage -- at himself, at the world in general and willing to take it out on anyone who dared to talk to him.

Blair, however, followed, closing the door behind them as James spun round. "What do you want from me, Sandburg? Why do you constantly try to seduce me into your bed? You can have any man on board this ship, why me? Tell me, why me?!"

Blair sighed, pushing down his own fear and anger at what happened on deck. He went to pour himself a drink of wine from the decanter. "Do you really think I haven't asked myself the same question?" he began quietly. "You may have the body of a Greek god, but you nevertheless have the attitude of a... of a mule!" He drained the glass. "You are an arrogant, self destructive cretin! Every time I think I've gotten through that thick skull of yours, you throw up another barrier."

Blair's ire rose within him and he slammed the glass down. "Apart from the lust you provoke in me -- and believe me, I could manipulate your senses until you want nothing more than to beg me to ram into your willing body -- there must be something else going on here. You know what I think that is, Ellison? It really pisses me off, but I think I'm in love with you!" He threw the glass across the cabin wall, only to watch it roll, unsatisfactorily across the floor without breaking.

A silence hung over the room and then James started laughing.

Blair turned to stare at him, and then he too began to laugh at the absurdity of it. "Oh, James, my friend, whatever shall I do with you?" Blair asked, his eyes wet with tears of laughter.

The older man moved forward and stroked his thumbs over the young captain's face to catch the salty liquid under Blair's eyes. "Anything you wish, as long as you ask clearly and distinctly," he said quietly, bringing his hands down to rest on the other man's shoulders, his head down to rub his nose over Blair's.

"I can do that," The Wolf whispered. "Kiss me, James. Please kiss me."

******

Blair chuckled in his sleep and moved to spoon up behind Jim.

******

Visions of a battle at sea played through his head. The clash of cutlasses, the roar of cannon, the smell of smoke and, most of all, the sight of James Ellison, now ex-British Navy. The areas of flesh that Blair could see exposed between bits of ripped and slashed cloth were gleaming with sweat. Dirt smeared over his face like tribal markings. The man looked... well, magnificent, and Blair felt his cock grow and harden.

Not an uncommon phenomenon, an odd area of his brain supplied. The adrenaline rush of life or death situations, the urge to fight or flee... it all led to a surge of arousal.

And 'The Wolf' was known throughout the seven seas for his skill at fighting. His strategic maneuvers, his skill at avoiding capture... all were well known. But it was his mastery of hand-to-hand combat that made his name. However, this man... this James Ellison, made him appreciate a different form of hand-to-hand, and he'd had to come up with a whole new form of maneuvers.

The scene playing in Blair's head shifted to the darkness of a cabin, the only source of light being the moonlight that came through the heavy leaded window. It caught the slight rocking of an occupied hammock. Captain Blair was naked; the moonlight kissing his skin as he walked over to the swaying canvas.

"You know," he whispered, "there's an art to making love in one of these."

The occupant stirred. "And you've studied this well?" the other voice asked just as softly.

Blair reached across and grasped each side of the hammock as he carefully moved to lie atop his mate. "That would be telling and you know so many of my secrets already."

James Ellison moaned as Blair very gently rocked his groin against the supine man. "Never know all your secrets. Never get enough of you," he breathed.

Blair was nipping at his jaw line. "Want you. Want you so much."

"You have me."

"Turn over." Blair eased up to give James enough room to maneuver around. Now The Wolf was rubbing his cock in the crease of Ellison's ass, and oh, it felt so good. Blair reached round to slip his hand between the hammock and James' body, grasping his cock and stroking it in time with his rocking. "No fucking tonight, man o' mine. The oil is too far away and the hammock too unstable. But this... "

"This," James groaned out, "is perfect."

"Yes. Come for me. Let me feel your body let go."

The ropes groaned and creaked. The two men moaned and gasped. There was a long moment of silence before the world began again.

******

Blair woke and found his hand wet from where it had been wrapped round Jim's cock and Jim's ass wet with cum from Blair's. "Oh. Er, sorry, Jim. I guess I got carried away in my sleep."

Jim shifted slightly. "No problem. I got carried away myself." He reached for the towel they kept by the bed for just such a situation. "So, good dream, Chief?"

"Oh man, you better believe it." Blair smiled and then laughed. "In real life, the hammock would have given way and we'd both have splinters in our backsides!"

A puzzled Jim shook his head. "You are going to explain that to me, aren't you?"

Blair turned towards his man. "Well, you see, it was like this. We were...."