Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Well,” Ben said at last. “That was awkward.”

It was a terrible understatement.

They had stayed on the beach for some time, just looking at the sea, each lost in his own thoughts. At least Vasco hoped Ben was lost in his own thoughts, because his had been reduced to an ongoing whir.

Ben uncorked one of the bottles they had left untouched and took a few sips. Then he passed it on to Vasco.

“Ben, it’s… dawn,” Vasco said, nevertheless taking the flask from him.

“So what?” Ben choked on his own words, or maybe the strong wine. “We’re sailors; we can drink any time we want.”

Vasco couldn’t argue with the logic and took a big gulp himself. The wine helped reduce the whir to a gentle buzz.

Then, more silence. A few passes of the bottle. A crab running late across Vasco’s feet. The sun had gone up over the horizon and the tide was coming in. People started wandering to the beach.

“Shall we… take it to our graves?” Vasco asked.

“The hell we will,” Ben huffed. “I’m gonna write a song about it, eh. Such a glorious fuck deserves a ballad.”

Vasco snorted.

“What?” Ben scoffed. “I was being serious. Check this out:

It was a warm summer night on the Al Saad beach,

Where went two young Nauts, of fifteen years each,

To drink some wine,

And pass the time

With song, rhymes, and figures of speech.

As they neared the shore, the moon was their light,

A third figure appeared in the waves to their sight,

They thought, a goddess,

Or a mermaid, no less,

Such a beauty was the creature of the night.”

As he sang the makeshift ballad in a low voice, Vasco couldn’t help but grin. When Ben fell silent again, he straight up burst out laughing.

“I’m so sorry, man,” he finally managed to say. “I just… didn’t expect to be in a ballad in my lifetime! And in a raunchy one!”

Ben grinned and started laughing as well.

“Oh, V, yer gonna be a famous Naut Captain one day, and then everyone will have you on their tongues!” he joked, patting Vasco’s shoulder.

“Better not everyone,” Vasco said, pushing Ben’s hand away.

When their fingers touched, they suddenly stopped laughing. Golden eyes met dark ones. Vasco bit his lip. His heart was beating fast.

Ben opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. He shook his head and looked away. Vasco’s eyes were stuck on his profile, so elegant against the pink and blue morning sky. He wanted to say something, but words failed him; there was no verse, no phrase that could express the emotions, the uncertainty, the excitement, the elation, even…

“Yer tongue would be enough for me to last a lifetime,” he said at last, not realizing he was speaking out loud.

“Oh, fuck it!” Ben exclaimed, and all but tackled Vasco to the sandy ground, pressing his lips to Vasco’s feverishly.

After the initial shock, Vasco grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. Ben wiggled his hips in between his legs and kissed him deeper. The cherry wine was sweet on his tongue.

“Ye won’t believe how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he panted in between kisses.

“Ye never, ever gave me the tiniest hint,” Vasco seconded, his hands now cradling Ben’s neck, lips never leaving his skin. “Asshole.”

“How are we gonna explain it to the others?”

“What others? Do we have to?”

They separated to catch their breaths. Ben collapsed at Vasco’s side, panting heavily against his shoulder.

Then they started laughing again, minds fuzzy, without a care in the world.

Chapter Text

“Can I have his name tattooed on me face?” Ben asked the tattooist as he was preparing his skin for the new mark.

“No!” Vasco yelled, pressing the chamomile-soaked handkerchief to his burning cheek.

“I was asking the master tattooist here,” Ben giggled back.

The tattooist didn’t reply. In the Naut tradition, surviving a storm called for a new mark; having a lover did not. Otherwise, some Nauts would only have rows of names on their faces.

Ben groaned in pain as the tattooist worked on his face, commemorating the storm for the rest of Ben’s life. The other members of the crew were hanging around, either already with their new markings or waiting in line to get them, talking without lowering their voices. Seagulls were screaming above them; someone was singing in the distance. The port was teeming with life.

Vasco turned the handkerchief around to the cold side. It was soaked with his blood, and the skin was really hurting this time. Which was strange, because he had had his ribs and the sides of his neck tattooed, and he didn’t remember it hurting this much.

Maybe because he simply experienced everything twice as strongly since the night he and Ben discovered they had feelings for each other.

He felt at the same time drunk with happiness and sober with how hard it hit him. Any doubts that made their way to his consciousness he buried under the warm cloak of being in love.

Ben was rather open about their… relationship. Nauts didn’t frown at any configuration as long as no one got hurt and work got done, and Ben embraced the mindset fully. In the morning after the memorable night, when they finally left the beach, he tried to hug Vasco at breakfast, then to feed him pieces of an apple, and afterwards he insisted on them holding hands as they walked to the tattoo master.

Vasco liked it, but he wished they were as before, just… closer. Not physically closer, at least not all the time. Intimate, was a better word. That they were comfortable around one another.

He was unsure how to tell Ben that without hurting him.

“Finished, next,” the tattoo master announced, letting Ben go.

“Can I have his name tattooed on me chest, then?” Ben didn’t give up.

“You can tattoo me name on yer asshole, dumbass,” Vasco scoffed, passing him a fresh chamomile-soaked cloth to wipe his face.

“Ye can do it yerself when ye get it,” Ben teased, unfolding the cloth and putting it on his face like a shroud. Vasco blushed furiously.

Now everyone knew, not only Cabral and their cabin-mates, but everyone in the hearing distance. But it seemed nobody cared. Nobody laughed. Life went on as usual.

Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he was making it bigger than it needed to be.

Ben pulled Vasco blindly into an embrace and nuzzled his neck. It was as if someone touched him with a red-hot brand.

“Why are ye flinchin’ like that?” Ben asked, his voice annoyed.

“I’m not flinchin’, what ye talkin’ about?” Vasco replied louder than he had intended. Ben ripped the cloth off his face. He was pouting. “I’m sorry,” Vasco offered. “I’m just a beginner to… all this. Every time ye touch me, it’s as if a fire lit up me veins. And at times, I’m not prepared.”

Ben’s face softened.

“Ye sayin’ I light up a fire in yer veins, eh?” he muttered against Vasco’s ear and licked the shell. Vasco shuddered and nodded. Ben’s breath puffed against his ear. “That’s a hell of a statement, my lightning bolt. If ye don’t like anythin’, just tell me, eh? I promise to keep me hands off of ye. Damn, yer just so… touchable. Squeezable. Lovable. Huggable. Kissable. Fuckable.” Each tickling word was punctuated with a soft kiss to Vasco’s ear.

“Stop, or I’ll make ye quench the fire in me veins with the sea of all yer tears,” Vasco giggled.

“Lads! Get yerself a room!” an older boatswain yelled at them. Guffawing, they hastily dropped the display of affection and hurried away towards a more secluded space.

Chapter Text

“Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our pilgrimage to no country and to no end,” Ben read out. “In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of words.”

“That one’s beautiful,” Vasco commented, his head on Ben’s shoulder. “It doesn’t rhyme though.”

“It’s called blank verse,” Ben said. “I was tryin’ to make it into a song, but it’s just too nice the way it is. I’d have to write me own.”

The boys were sprawled on the quay, leaning against a set of old crates and looking at sea waves coming in and out, in and out, splashing gently against the ships and boats. It was a lazy afternoon; they deserved it after the morning they spent training with their swords master, and before aiming practice planned for the afternoon.

“What do ye think it means?” Vasco asked, shifting his head to nuzzle at Ben’s neck. Ben smelled a bit like cloves; it took him longer than he wanted to admit until he was able to name the scent. He had never sniffed him that intensely before the memorable night.

Ben would say Vasco smelled like bitter orange. Together, they made a pomme d’ambre, an orange with cloves stuck into it, a decoration that was supposed to ward off evil spirits. When Ben had come up with the simile, Vasco laughed so hard he cried.

“It just makes me think of ye,” Ben said. “Of us. When we’re old, I’d like to snatch ye away and live on a ship, forever. Just the two of us. I’d sing ye songs and we’d wake every morning in each other’s embrace, and we’d be free and happy. That’s how I understand it.”

They sat in silence, listening in to the waves crashing in intervals against the dock. The perspective sounded blissful, but Vasco couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that they would be old one day. The days went by slowly, even when filled with work on the ship, and they were still young; every month could bring new developments, so what was the sense in planning so far ahead? And how could Ben do it so carelessly?

“Will ye sing a song for me now?” he asked dreamily, pushing the questions aside. Ben smirked.

“I’ll sing ye all the songs of the world,” he said. He took up the guitar, hummed a tune and strummed a chord. He turned a peg slightly, then another, and strummed the chord again.

Vasco sat cross-legged opposite him to look at the way his fingers pressed and plucked at the strings. There was something about his hands that made Vasco feel fuzzy inside. Or rather… made him want to have these hands all over his body, now, but at the same time watch them move in the perfect balance of strong and delicate as he played the tune.

Waken therefore, young men,

All ye that lovers be, Hey ho!

This month of May, so fresh, so gay,

So fair by field and fen,

Hath flower'd o'er each leafy den;

Great joy it is to see; Hey ho!

“Are ye propositioning me, Benedetto?” Vasco asked when the verse finished.

“Maybe,” Ben responded with feigned coyness. “A kiss for your minstrel, fair lad?” He offered his cheek to Vasco, who promptly closed the distance and pressed his lips against Ben’s.

Ben pushed the guitar aside and pulled Vasco closer so that he could straddle him. His hands roamed along Vasco’s back as they kissed, only breaking for air and gentle whispers every now and again.

“I think yer fen has flowered,” Ben said, moving his hand to the front of Vasco’s breeches and stroking the bulge that had appeared there.

“Wanna go flower picking?” Vasco asked in a needy whisper.

“Let’s.”

The boys gathered their scattered belongings and rushed to their quarters. The room was bound to be empty at that time of the day; they had seen their crewmates all around the port. Even if it wasn’t, they would find a place – they had to, or Vasco thought he was going to explode. He needed Ben so much.

Vasco stuck his head through the door to their crew’s room. It was empty, as expected.

Hardly had they closed the door behind them than Ben pulled Vasco’s breeches and undergarments down together. Vasco’s breath caught in his throat at the sudden exposure.

Ben kneeled before him, admiring the view. He ran his hands along Vasco’s hips and thighs, pressing his nails against the skin possessively. There was a clear line where the sun-kissed skin of Vasco’s stomach met the lighter, olive skin of his hips and thigs. Perpendicular to that line ran a thin path of fine dark hair, leading straight to Vasco’s cock. Or, as Ben would call it, his ivory tower, or his treasure, or his First Mate.

Ben licked his lips and slid them along Vasco’s cock. He breathed in the musky, heady scent and then licked the head, where a drop of clear liquid was starting to form. Vasco closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wooden door with a sigh.

Ben licked hungrily around the head, making it all wet. Vasco’s cock was circumcised, as Cabral had noticed; he had never given it much thought, until he and Ben needed to work out such fine and boring details as sufficient lubrication or the amount of stimulation.

Ben started pumping with his hand to match the movements of his mouth.

“Good?” he asked, his mouth leaving Vasco’s shaft for a moment. Vasco looked down; Ben’s face was flushed, his lips wet and pink mere inches from his cock, and the dark eyes shining. His hand was still doing its work, the other holding Vasco’s hips steady.

“It’s perfect,” Vasco whispered and placed his hand on Ben’s head. Ben resumed his ministrations, now sucking and pumping even harder, and Vasco had to stifle his moans so that no one would hear them. It was unbelievably good, and he feared he would wake up from the dream any minute now.

Chapter Text

The young crew members erupted in cheers as Vasco shot his fifth bull’s eye in a row. He was the only one of the group who managed to do it, and the shooting master was more than pleased with his results. He wasn’t particularly strong, but his speed and shooting accuracy were promising.

The shooting master, called Falcao, was an older Naut who didn’t look the part, but could easily outdo any shooter with his sharp vision and fast hand. He could recognize the flag on a ship from miles and miles away, and shoot through a coin flipped high in the air, among other tricks. He had won many a duel in his younger days, and now, whenever he wasn’t sailing with his crew, he was more than happy to share his experience with those who wanted to better themselves.

He would always say being a good shooter was about observation, not excellent vision; about practice and dedication, not innate talent. His words resonated well with Vasco, who, frankly speaking, had been shit at shooting at the beginning, but with hours upon hours of practice became the best of his peers.

“My Cupid!” Ben roared, wrapping his arms around Vasco and almost tackling him to the ground. He gave Vasco a sloppy kiss.

“Cupid had a bow, not a gun, dumbass!” Vasco groaned, attempting to push Ben and his needy mouth off of him, but only half-heartedly; he enjoyed the attention.

“What’s them Cupid?” asked a little girl by the name of Flavia – a Sea-Born whose father always took her with him when they set sail. After her mother died, her father found new love in the person of the portmaster in Al Saad. Flavia would stick with the younger Nauts and try to imitate everything they did, including shooting practice. The gun was almost as big as she was.

“When Cupid hits you with an arrow, you fall in love,” someone explained to her.

“And how does he know it’s the right ‘un whom he shoots?”

“I dunno. Must be very clever, eh.”

“Are Vasco and Ben the right ‘uns? Are they gon be Sea-Husbands like me dads?”

Vasco raised his eyebrow at Ben.

“I think we’re too young to know,” he said. Ben’s smile faltered for a split second. “But… yes, I’d like that,” Vasco added quickly.

Flavia squeaked with joy. Ben and Vasco stayed in the embrace, resting their heads on each other’s shoulders. The group of young Nauts dispersed to other activities or to have dinner.

“Ye didn’t sound convinced,” Ben stated. Vasco might have imagined it, but there was a tone of hurt in his voice.

“And there I would have thought I was the more serious of us two,” Vasco smirked. “Sea-Husbands? Really? After what – two days? I dunno what I’m gonna do, like, tomorrow, and ye got yer mind set on forever?”

Ben stepped back to hold Vasco at arm’s length. His eyes were sad and his expression solemn.

“Ye struck me like a lightning bolt,” he whispered, pressing his fingers harder into Vasco’s shoulders. “I’ve never, ever, ever felt anythin’ like this. Please, Vasco. I’ll prove it to ye every day if need be, until the end of me life.”

Vasco hesitated. This sounded unimaginable. Such a long time… hopefully more than twice what they have already lived. How can he know?

“I can’t promise ye forever,” he finally said, his voice cracking. He wanted to say yes, to let go of his reservations and just dive head-first into the unknown waters… but he was too scared, and angry at himself for that. Ben’s love was burning, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He knew he needed to keep his distance and just bask in the warmth, but he felt that if he got too close, too invested, too engulfed in the fire, he would burn to a crisp. “But… I think I can promise ye today. And tomorrow, I’ll promise ye again. And the day after that…”

“I’ll make it worth promisin’,” Ben sighed, a soft smile returning to his face. His hands slid down to hold Vasco’s.

“It’s a deal, then,” Vasco reciprocated the smile.

“It’s a deal, right ‘un.”

Chapter Text

“Ow!” Ben hissed, pulling Vasco up by the hair. His cock left Vasco’s mouth with a pop. “Do ye wanna bite it off or what? No teeth!”

“Ye use yer teeth on mine!” Vasco scowled, his hand still moving up and down on Ben’s cock. It fascinated him how the foreskin could be moved up and down to cover the head, and just how sensitive the tip was to his touch.

“Because yer cut! Yers is less sensitive!”

“Aye, aye, no teeth then,” Vasco relented.

“I’ll show ye,” Ben took his hand and guided it to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around two of Vasco’s fingers, caressed them gently with his tongue, sliding it skillfully around the tips and along the length, sucking on them gently, humming against them…

Vasco was looking at him with his mouth agape, golden eyes full of admiration and lust. He could do this all day, with Ben sprawled beneath him, naked save for his disheveled shirt that framed his strong chest in stark contrast to the dark tattoos, his beautiful cock standing at attention, leaking pre-cum and twitching every now and then. And now Vasco’s fingers were exploring Ben’s mouth, essentially fucking it, and it seemed to him so erotic as to be borderline obscene.

“I think,” Vasco panted after a while, “now ye need to show me again on me cock.”