Work Text:
It takes significantly longer than anticipated to drag Monty back up to bed. He’s wobblier on his feet than normal because of the blood loss— Christ , disaster seems to follow us around—and clings to me like a lifeline. Despite his protestations, I’m starting to think he’s not in a state suitable for any commandment-shattering. He damn near collapses on the bed after we’ve made it up the stairs, and in the mid-morning light, I can see how washed-out he is.
He’s not deterred though, and begins to wriggle out of his shirt. “You alright, darling?”
“ Monty .”
“What?” He props himself up on his hands to give me a look, shirt still tangled around his shoulders. A sly smile creeps across his face. “If I recall correctly, this was your idea.”
“Yes, it was, I just—are you certain you’re fine?”
“Smashing. Even though I’ve recently split my head open.”
I flop down on the bed by his side, then roll so I can face him, reaching out to poke at his ribs. “Is it because of me?”
He flushes and rolls over, pressing his forehead to mine. “Obviously. Why else?”
“Scipio didn’t seem angry.”
“Ah. Yes. Well.” Monty’s eyes flit to the place my fingers are curled around his waist. “There’s apparently quite a few sodomites amongst the crew. He’s rather desensitized to it all.”
“Imagine if we really had run away to become pirates as children. Do you think we’d still be like this?”
His brow creases. “In love?”
“No, hiding. I can’t imagine any version of us that doesn’t involve me being moony for you.”
“I think there’s always going to be a certain level of shame beat into it.”
I pull him closer to me, letting him bury his face in my neck as I run my fingers through his hair. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
There’s a muffled “Alright,” and he presses a kiss to my jaw. “How do you move past it? The shame.”
“I’ve never done this . I don’t know how. I wasn’t ashamed before it all went rather disastrously. I am now , but only because we’ve probably scarred your sister for life. Not because we’re both lads.”
Monty huffs out a little laugh. “I wasn’t either. I was just thinking about—well, obviously, about how incredibly attractive you are, but also about how much I love you. And how incredibly lucky I am that you love me back.”
His honesty catches me in the chest and knocks something loose, sending a lump rising in my throat. “Well. Then think about how I love you. Think about how I love you for your bravery, and your stubbornness, and the way you smile right before you say something clever, and how you’ve always cared.”
I’m expecting him to protest, to say he doesn’t deserve it. To say that he doesn’t deserve me. But instead, he kisses me, soft and slow and sure. It might not be an acceptance of my words, but it’s an answer, and it feels like the start that I envisioned.
“I love you,” Monty says.
And then his lips move to my neck, and none of it is slow anymore.
Somewhere in the midst of it all, I manage to get out a “ Darling ,” in between labored breaths, and Monty stills to look up at me like it’s the rapture.
“This is alright?”
“Christ, yes.”
“Lovely,” he says, his voice shaking a bit. “Excellent.”
I laugh as I shimmy out of my breeches. “You’re an absolute goose.”
“But you love me.” He kisses my hip and smirks. God, he’s so beautiful.
“That I do.”