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There really ought to be warnings about the effects of alcohol. Phillip was not usually one to enjoy parties and festivities, much preferring to read in solitude, but even he could not help but enjoy the bustling atmosphere on the Doris that evening. Which was absurd. It was clearly the alcohol at work. He'd definitely had a bit too much of it, in any case. The rest of the crew did not share the same reticence, just about all of them jumping at the opportunity to relax and enjoy themselves. The rhythmic sounds of feet against the wooden deck of the ship filled the humid air, mingling with the noises of cheerful conversation and music as the men danced around. Those that weren't dancing were eagerly downing as much booze as their bodies could take, passing the bottles around like a sacred treasure.
Phillip might not have taken the alcohol when it ended up with him, if not for the man at the centre of the bash. To his absolute horror, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off him the entire night. He could hardly be blamed, of course. A pirate happily dancing, striking his claves together, on a British navy ship that was on course to deliver him to his execution? A sober man would certainly raise an eyebrow at the peculiarity of it. But that was not why Phillip was staring.
Thing was, Rome wasn't just dancing in the way the others were; clumsy and stiff. No, his movements could only be described as hypnotizing. The way his heels clicked against the wood at the same time he clashed those claves together. How Rome was even managing to stay upright on those heels was beyond him. The way he spun around, letting his stupidly gorgeous long hair flow behind him. How he occasionally looked over to where Phillip was sitting, and threw a wide, cocky grin his way. It made something in Phillip's chest tighten, and he hated it. This was all clearly the alcohol's fault. So, naturally, like any wise man would do, he downed the entire remainder of the bottle in one big gulp. Surely it couldn't get much worse.
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Though Phillip was unsure if his current situation was better or worse, the tight feeling in his chest had certainly grown stronger. Though the several now-empty bottles of liquor had certainly played a part in amplifying that feeling, it was mostly due to Rome, life-ruining twat as he were. Through some spurt of divine inspiration, the pirate had decided now would be the best time to invite Phillip to dance. Whatever semblance of coherent thought remained in Phillip's mind was lost when Rome entered his space with a confident grin on his face, voice slurring when he spoke.
"Hey handsome, come dance with me!"
Phillip didn't even get a chance to reply before Rome was pulling him from where he was resting against the edge of the ship and dragging him into the centre of the crowd. If Phillip had been sober, he might have pulled away and explained that he wasn't a dancer. Though now, he felt lightheaded, and he quite liked the way Rome was smiling at him right now. He couldn't bear to tell him no.
Dancing with Rome was... surprisingly nice. Phillip had expected to be a bumbling mess, but he quite quickly managed to slip into the rhythm Rome created. His usually too-loud brain was quiet for a change, leaving only the sounds of the music, his rapidly beating heart, and the warm feeling that sparked inside him every time Rome smiled. Something in the back of Phillip's mind was screaming at him that what he was doing was not something most navy captains would do with pirates they captured. This specific pirate happened to be extremely handsome, though, so he was a little foggy on the details.
When Rome removed his hat to deposit it on Phillip's head, he couldn't help himself anymore; he burst into a fit of laughter. It was all so absurd, and it all felt so warm and fuzzy right now. He could feel Rome's warm hands settling on his cheeks, although he couldn't quite make at what he was saying, still laughing like a maniac. He was shaken out of that very quickly when Rome leaned forward, grabbing his chin with two fingers. Phillip could feel his heart skip a beat, a shiver running down his spine despite the warmth in the air, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. Rome was so close; he could practically count his eyelashes. And his smell. Something familiar, like...
Rome didn't give him the chance to gather his thoughts. He pushed his hat down to cover Phillip's eyes, sending him right into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. It was so strangely comforting to let go like this, to not focus on the feeling of dread that filled his stomach when he thought about their destination. Here, adrift at sea, it didn't feel so bad to let loose a little.
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Somewhat inevitably, the noise got to him at some point. He'd wanted to talk to Rome, to listen to the way his accent curled around certain letters, but the loud chatter of the crew wouldn't allow for that. It was Rome that took his hand and lead him to the stern of the ship when he mentioned his discomfort with the noise. He liked the way Rome's hand felt curled around his own. He'd almost said that out loud, he realized, though it hardly mattered to him now. Rome's hand was warm, and his hair was pretty, and Phillip felt the overwhelming urge to, once again, inform Rome of just how handsome he was. Also, he might throw up. It was probably unrelated.
Once they were a good bit away from the bustling crowd, they quite easily slipped back into conversation. Phillip probably wouldn't remember half of what he said tomorrow, though it hardly mattered when Rome smiled at him, almost pouted when the topic of marriage came up. He'd look good in white; Phillip's drunken mind supplied.
It was the sensation of Rome's fingers twirling around a lock of loose hair that pulled his mind back to earth. Right. His mother. He was here for a reason, after all. Though he had no idea why he was mentioning all this to Rome.
"Will you get a reward for delivering me to the king?" Rome's voice reached him through the haze.
His speech was slurred by the alcohol, though still maintaining its charming accent. Phillip nodded.
"Yeah. I will, if I bring both you and Oscar to him."
Maybe his sight was going blurry too, but Phillip could have sworn he saw a hint of sadness behind those chestnut brown eyes. That... didn't feel right.
"Wow. How romantic." Rome's voice was softer now.
Something in the way he spoke those words, and how his eyes met Phillips's own, compelled him to reach out. He let his hand cup Rome's cheek, feeling the cool weight of the man's earing against his skin. He exhaled shakily when Rome leaned into the touch, the warm lantern light from the party behind him making him look absolutely radiant. The knot in his chest tightened.
"It is, you see?" He whispered.
They were so close; their noses were almost touching. Everything around them became to blur, only Rome's perfectly handsome face and slight smile remaining clear. There was a gentleness to his expression as he looked at Phillip. For what might be the first time in his life, he felt truly, genuinely seen.
That expression was the final push he needed to send him tumbling over the edge. He carefully pulled Rome's face closer, heartrate only increasing when the pirate let him. Their lips were so close, they were practically breathing the same air. For one, infinitely long second, Phillip hesitated. The weight of his actions, his responsibility, pulled at him from the back of his mind. He shouldn't be doing this, he knew he shouldn't. But Rome was right in front of him, eyes closed, and lips slightly parted. He smelled like...
Ah. Thats what it was. That comforting, familiar smell flushed out the last shreds of doubt from Phillip's mind. He breathed in his scent, before carefully pressing his lips to Rome's. Oh, and it was everything. Rome's lips were pleasantly soft, yet with a firmness behind it that made Phillip's legs feel shaky. It was all he could do to return the favour, fuelled by that desperate longing he'd tried so hard to suppress until now. Rome's fingers tangled in his hair, and it was almost enough to make tears well up in his eyes. The kiss was tender, careful, as if to gauge each other's reaction, though a deeply rooted desperation lingered just below the surface
It was only their biological need to breathe that forced them apart, leaving both of them gasping for air. Rome's expression hovered between contentment and absolute bewilderment. Phillip imagined he looked somewhat similar. He'd really gone and done it this time. He should have known better, should have kept it together. But Rome's scent, it had just been...
"You smell like the sea." He blurted helplessly.
Rome's expression shifted into a confused frown. Seemingly instinctively, his hand reached up to touch his braided hair.
"Oh." He spoke hesitantly, not meeting Phillips's gaze.
Shit. That had not been his intention. He wanted that charming smile back.
"No, no. I mean. In a good way." He almost tripped over his words in his rush. "You smell like... freedom. Like a sea breeze, going where you want, not caring about what others think. The kind that comforts you, wherever or whoever you might be. It's... With you, I don't feel like I have to keep up a persona, or act a certain way. I can just... be."
Absolutely nothing of what he saying made sense, but he needed Rome to hear this. He watched the pirate's expression shift through a multitude of emotions that his intoxicated mind was incapable of describing. But despite that, he could tell; Rome wanted to slip away.
No. Phillip reached out, clutching onto Rome's wrist with near desperation.
"Rome." He started, but the man cut him off.
"This doesn't change anything, Phillip. You know that."
The edge of rawness to his voice startled him. He had no way of arguing with what he was saying, but he did not release his hold on Rome's wrist. He might be looking into it too much, but the pirate made no effort to break free from his hold.
"I'm the furthest thing from free right now." Rome continued. "You're literally leading me to my death. Whatever this is, it won't stop that from happening."
"I know." Was all Phillip could muster in reply, voice small.
Rome's expression shifted again, looking somewhat pained.
"Phillip. I like you. Really, I do, but this won't lead to anything, and you know that. The only reason I'm still here is so I can get to my crew. Once I get to them, I'll leave."
There was a strange throbbing in Phillip's chest, a feeling he didn't recognize. It ached. He hardly cared that Rome had just revealed his plan to him.
"Say something. Please." Rome continued. His tone was soft, which only added to the ache.
"I can't."
"Phillip-"
"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. It was not supposed to be like this."
A tentative silence fell between them. Phillip imagined if he wasn't as drunk as he was, he would have reacted to this situation much differently. Now, he could only focus on that throbbing pain that had nestled in his chest. Phillip could practically hear Rome exhale, then heard his own sharp intake of air when Rome's fingers curled around his own.
"It wasn't." Rome agreed. "But it's a little late for that, I suppose."
Now it was Phillip's turn to be caught off guard, as Rome's deft fingers travelled up his body to hook into his messy hair. When those fingers tugged his head forwards, towards Rome, he didn't resist. If their last kiss had been tender, this one was passion and desperation. Rome tugged on his hair, forcing a noise of surprise from Phillip's throat. That only seemed to motivate Rome further, greedily swallowing up the noise. Instinctively, Phillip put his hands on Rome's waist, not wanting the moment to end.
"Phillip." Rome managed breathlessly when they parted, faces still mere centimetres apart.
His whole existence was intoxicating to Phillip, the way the pirate's eyelids quivered as he stared at his lips. It was all too much. His head was spinning.
"I like the way you talk." Phillip blurted. "It's so intriguing. Everything about you is, actually."
And finally, finally, that content grin that Phillip enjoyed seeing so much returned to Rome's face. The man let his fingers run down Phillip's cheek.
"Oh darling." He said, causing Phillip's heart rate to spike with two simple words. "You're so fucking confusing. I don't know what to make of you."
His fingertips hovered around the corner of Phillip's lips.
"But I think I would like to find out. Or try to, at least. If we can."
Phillip hummed in agreement; a weight he didn't even realise was there finally lifted from his shoulders. Of course, the stress was still there; it never left. They were still slowly sailing towards a point of no return, and time was running out. He didn't know how, or if they would make it out the other side, but the very least, he felt compelled to try. Rome's hands were still on him, warm and steady, his scent of ocean breeze and freedom filling Phillip with a newfound sense of hope. Maybe they had a chance after all.