Work Text:
"All hands hoay!" a loud voice booms.
Seamen of all ages scramble to the deck, staring at their captain. They watch the young man's pacing figure, curious as to what he's about to say.
"Aye, Captain Kirkland?"
He ignores their questions, staring towards his boots as he walks, back and forth, back and forth. They stand nervously, thoughts wandering. Has someone committed a crime? Who might be walking the plank? Has there been talk of mutiny?
After nearly seven minutes, a new voice sounds. "Aye, sorry I'm late, Kirkland."
Emerald eyes shoot up, staring straight at the tall first mate. People near him shrink at the caustic gaze, but he grins none the less.
Finally, after a minute of gazing intensely at his first mate, the captain speaks. "There be a storm brewing, from the east. Prepare the ship." He sees his crew nod. "You're all dismissed, except you, Jones. I need to speak with you in my quarters."
Seemingly clueless, the first mate bounds after the captain.
"Poor Jones," one crewman whispers to another. "Doesn't know Kirkland's gonna lash out at 'im."
Kirkland closes the door behind the two, facing the first mate. The tall, blue eyed lad looks right back, a grin on his face. "Yes, Artie?"
"Hold on." He turns, facing the door, and opens it, startling a few crewmen behind it. "Oi! Get to work! Next time I see you off task, you'll become a Swabbie!" They scatter off.
Arthur closes the door, turning back to his first mate. "You need to start getting to places on time."
"But I was just finishing a carving!"
"I don't care. What if you just don't show up? Do you understand what that leads me to believe?"
"No?"
"It makes me think you fell overboard, or someone killed you. I can't have that happening. It worried me."
"You're worried about me, Arthur?" Alfred coos.
"Of course I am, you heathen. You know that."
Alfred cups the captain's face between his tan hands, smiling sweetly at the other. "Love you, Artie," he murmurs.
"Love you, too, Alfred."
Alfred slowly leans down his eyes flicking between emerald irises and pink lips. Their eyes flutter closed, but as soon as their lips meet, someone yells from outside. "Aye, Captain Kirkland! The storm's almost here!"
Arthur groans, looking up at Alfred. They kiss briefly, before opening the door. "And if I don't see you working, I'll punish ye myself!" Arthur yells, looking angered with his secret lover.
"Aye, Captain."
Alfred scatters off to his post, helping the men close hatches. They seal them with long, metal poles, until only one remains open. The sails are lowered, so the wind can't toss them about. Finally, all but a handful of crewmen, including Alfred, and the captain crowd into below deck.
All of this is done just in time, because lightning strikes towards the east. It's not long before it begins to rain, and Arthur is shouting commands from behind the wheel. "You! Secure the ropes!"
Large, choppy waves greet them, throwing a few men down onto the deck. Thunderous explosions sound in their ears, scaring Alfred at first. He quickly recovers, climbing the mast. Skillfully, he ties the sails the wooden post, all while not falling.
Arthur looks up from behind the wheel, breath catching in his throat. He watches the crazy young man make his way to the next spot. The captain chokes, when a sudden wave crashes into the ship, throwing Alfred off the beam. Luckily, the first mate catches onto the wood, and hangs for a moment.
"Alfred-!"
Carefully, the blue eyed man drops onto the deck, crouching as he lands. Arthur sighs visibly. Alfred looks to him, grinning. "Don't worry, Ar-" Alfred cuts himself off, watching the weights from the sails swinging. "Ar-Arthur! Look out!"
"Huh?" Arthur breathes, turning. Upon facing the other direction, he is met with a weight slamming into him. He is thrown back, over the railing and onto the main deck. Nearly slipping, Alfred sprints over.
"Arthur!"
The captain doesn't respond. His eyes are closed, and Alfred can't tell if he's even breathing. The first mate's heart stops for a moment, as he falls to his knees next to Arthur. "No, no, no, no!" he chants. He shakes the slightly older man, to no use. "Please, be okay..." Alfred lies his head on Arthur's chest, letting out a breath when he hears the familiar heartbeat.
In one quick motion, he's picked up the captain, and carries him to his cabin. He gently lays him down, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, before running back out and up the steps. Alfred grabs the spinning wheel, steering it away from the storm. "Come... on!" he grunts, the wheel becoming harder and harder to turn. His muscles burn as he grips the wood. Knuckles turn ghostly white and rain pelts down on his back. Alfred ignores the booming thunder in his ears. All he can think about is getting out of the storm, because he needs to save Arthur.
Arthur. His captain. His best friend. His lover. The two had known each other since childhood, when they were cabin boys on the same ship. And now, they go everywhere together. If Alfred loses him to this storm... Alfred can't even bear to think about the consequences.
Instead he puts all his focus in this. In saving his crew. In saving Arthur.
He lets out a cry at his straining muscles, and gives the wheel one final turn. Luckily, the ship now faces north, and is rapidly approaching sunlight. It's not long before the ship is on even water, the sun beginning to wane in the sky.
Alfred and the few crew members on deck go around, unfastening the hatches. The rest of the crew comes back up. "Aye! I have an announcement!" The seamen gather. "Captain Kirkland was injured during the storm. I will go look over him. In the mean time, I place the second mate in charge. Please continue with you duties."
Alfred turns on his heel, entering the captain's quarters. Thanks to the railing Alfred had installed, Arthur is still on his bed. The first mate sighs, settling on the bolted down barrel next to the bed. He scrunches up so that his feet are also on the top, back pressed against the wall. Alfred gazes over at the other man, wishing, and, for the first time in a long time, praying that Arthur will be alright.
He doesn't know how long he sits there; he only knows that it's been a while. His bum is starting to ache, as are his legs. He stands to stretch, closing his eyes. What he misses is emerald green eyes peeking open.
The first thing Arthur notices is the blonde in front of him. The second, immense pain. He lets out a quiet groan, and blue eyes snap over to him. The younger nearly trips, getting next to Arthur. "Arthur!"
The captain goes to sit up, wincing immediately. Alfred helps him lay back down, moving the railing to sit on the eye of the bed.
"What happened?"
Alfred explains everything that happened. The captain holds his aching head, barely able to comprehend everything. His overexcitable, never-serious first mate and lover saved the ship. He almost thinks he's joking, but the grave face the other holds is too worn. His expression does not even begin to resemble that of the one he holds during his practical jokes.
"I was so afraid I was going to lose you," Alfred's voice cracks at the end, eyes intensely gazing at Arthur.
In that moment, you could hear a pin drop in the cabin. Arthur sucks in his breath, manages to sit up, and meets eyes with the younger man. They stare at each other. Their chests don't even seem to be rising and falling, with the stillness of the room. The two stare at each other for an eternity before Arthur cracks a smile. But not one of his menacing or victorious smirks.
It's a sincere, loving smile, one reserved for Alfred and Alfred alone. The one that Alfred himself rarely gets to see due to their occupations and Arthur's hardened exterior.
"Well, I'm here now."
Alfred stares at him, blinking as he takes in the other's words. As it sinks in, his chest bubbles. It almost feels as if his heart were exploding, and he has to restrain himself from hugging the life out of his injured lover. Instead, he cups Arthur's lightly bruised cheeks.
Their lips meet in the middle. Arthur's sore arms refuse to do much, however, he does manage to hold onto his lover's shoulders. Alfred runs his warm thumbs over Arthur's cool cheeks, feeling the other's hair between his fingers. Once their need of oxygen becomes too great, they pull away, but only far enough that they can look into each other's eyes.
"I love you so much, Arthur."
"As I love you, Alfred."
