The Shadow Queen, Part Two -- RPS, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: RPS
Title: The Shadow Queen (a thejealoussea story), Part Two
Pairing, Characters: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, mention of Jeffrey Dean Morgan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5411
Summary: Captain Christian Kane is a notorious pirate, Master Steven Carlson is a merchant, and the pirate's prisoner.

Warnings: Dub-con/Non-con, at the very least strong-arm seduction. Some blood-play. Pain, chains, whips, rough handling, humiliation, branidng.

A/Ns: For starters, this is the fault of havenward who started this on Twitter, then took it to comment_fic, where she kept posting prompts until this became...something more. This is only a beginning. We are inviting others to play in this world. The community thejealoussea will be our playground. This is just setting the stage. In the next few days I hope to get some guidelines and stuff up. So start thinking about it now...the world is wide open, nobility, pirates, merchants, peasants, sailors, and you can cast anyone you like in any role that seems fitting.





He wakes confused, his body warm, wrapped in soft sheets and a warmer body. Christian holds him, his hand on Steven's hip possessively. It's strangely comforting, if he doesn't think about who or why…but his mind is less obedient than his body and he cannot help but remember both.

The pirate had stolen him from the docks of his own city, taken him away from his business and his bride, chained him, mocked him, tortured him and humiliated him. Steven had been violated in ways he had never known could even be, and yet…and yet he had surrendered. He had feared the loss of the man who treated him like he was nothing more than an object, a toy.

He wants to believe his fear was that the pirate's crew would do far worse to him, or that they would simply kill him and be done, but the ache in his body calls him out on the lie. He was hard and aching when he surrendered, when he offered his body to the pirate. He had wanted him, wanted to know what it would feel like to have the man inside him.

Steven's face blushes at the thought and he rolls forward slightly, until only the hand on his hip connects them. Even now, as he remembers the way the captain's cock thrust into him, Steven feels the dirty arousal mixing with his disgust of what he is becoming.

Christian had taken him again through the night, rolling him to his stomach and fucking him slow and easy. Steven's come is still crusty on his thighs. His bladder is tipping toward full, and soon he will need to relieve himself. He can reach the chamber pot at the end of his chain, he's fairly certain, but he remembers the rules. He is not to leave the bed, except with permission.

Behind him, Christian stirs, stretches, then he's grinning down at Steven, pulling Steven onto his back, spreading his legs open, one hand closing over his cock. It responds sluggishly, hardening as Christian's thumb covers the tip. "Did you sleep?"

Steven nods, uncertain of himself. He doesn't look up at his captor, but can't quite look away either. Christian releases his cock and pushes away. "Good. I'll make sure you get fed, have Tomas come look at your back. I get a little carried away sometimes." Christian is up and pulling on his trousers.

"I…" Steven stops, even as he sits up, the chains still attached to his wrists rattling against the floor.

Christian is looking at him, he can feel it. "Do you need something?"

Steven swallows down his pride. "I need to relieve myself."

"Go on then."

For a long moment, Steven waits, expecting…not really sure what he's expecting, just not ready to stand, naked and vulnerable before this man and just…go. But Christian isn't moving and Steven's need is growing, so he eases to his feet and shuffles the few steps to the end of the bed, holding himself and aiming for the pot. After a few seconds he finally manages to go, his skin burning red with shame.

"There you go. You just be a good boy in here. I'll be back."

And just like that, Steven is alone again. He slides back into the bed, grateful for the comfort and the relative privacy. He lays into the sheets, covering his nakedness. The bed smells like Christian, warm and Steven closes his eyes, trying not to think about the way his body feels, loose and needy and sore, or about the things he's done…or will likely do soon.

It's survival, nothing more. He's doing what he must to live through this. Nothing more.

It's at least an hour before the door opens again, the cabin boy offering him a tentative smile as he brought in a tray. "Cap'n told me to feed you."

Steven's grateful for the sheet covering him as James crosses the room, setting the tray on the bed, though he realizes the boy has already seen everything Steven has to offer.. There's some bread and cheese and an apple with a goblet of water on the tray. "Thank you."

"Tomas will be up after he finishes stitching up the crew. Fight broke out over—" James stops himself, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter. Cap'n broke it up, busted a few heads."

Steven reaches for the tray, pulling the bread to him. "Cap'n says I talk too much." James fidgets and turns for the door. "I got duties."

He's almost sad to see the boy go, the first real contact other than Christian since he'd been brought on board, but at the same time, Steven can't imagine what he would say to the boy.

He eats slowly, savoring the first real food he's had since he's been on board, and realizing he really doesn't know how long it's been. Still he's finished and alone for a while before the door opens and the man he's guessing is Tomas enters. "All right then, let's have a look."

Steven isn't sure what to do, but it turns out he doesn't have to do anything. Tomas crosses to him, pushes him forward and runs his fingers over Steven's back. "Heh. You'll live I reckon. Must like the pain, eh? Cap'n doesn't usually carve his princesses up like this. He must have liked how you reacted."

Steven feels the blush, but it gets worse when Tomas let's his hand drift lower, onto Steven's ass. Steven jumps and Tomas pulls away. "He said he took you last night and he wasn't gentle. I need to make sure he didn't hurt nothing permanent like. On your stomach."

Steven obeys slowly, wincing a little as he shifts and his ass reminds him how sore he really is. Tomas turns away, coming back with one finger glistening and with no warning, he shoves it inside Steven, his finger sliding on the grease, feeling around Steven's insides.

"Figures. I'll tell the Cap'n to leave your ass be a day or two, give you time to heal. Don't expect he'll be any gentler though."



Christian is far from gentle when he returns, in a foul mood and slamming his door before his eyes fall on Steven. "Hope you know how to use your mouth."

Steven doesn't answer, because truthfully he isn't sure what he means and he isn't sure he wants to. Before he can find a suitable way to respond, Christian is thrusting parchment and a quill at him. He takes them, looking up at Christian in question. "What am I meant to write?"

"Letters." Christian storms back to his desk and pulls a map over in front of him. "One to your bride, one to your partner. Tell them you were called away unexpectedly and you will be gone for another few weeks. Be brief and do not think to give them the truth."

Steven stares at the parchment, then back at Christian. "You wish me to lie to them."

"Well, you could tell them that I've made you into a pirate's whore, but I don't think your pretty little daughter of that French noble pig will marry you if you do."

Steven shifts uncomfortably on the bed, finding a position that was comfortable enough for writing, before carefully opening the jar of ink. The girl was the easiest, she knew little enough about him and would easily believe anything he wrote. His partner though…Steven stared at the paper a long time before deciding to stick with something simple.

It still took him far too long to write two simple letters and Christian is hovering over him by the time he is done. The pirate takes the letters, reading them as he heads for the door where James is suddenly waiting. "Give the captain my regards."

Steven wants to ask, but it's clear as Christian returns that he's in no mood for talking. He takes the ink and the quill and tosses them on the desk. He's loosening his trousers and coming back to the bed then, and Steven inches away a little. "I thought…he said…" He closes his mouth, the look on Christian's face as hard as the cock he's letting out of his pants.

"Just because your ass is broken doesn't mean the rest of you is." Christian frowned at him. "Don't tell me you've never gotten your dick sucked."

Steven blushes hot and red, turning away. "I…I've never…" He'd always been proud of his virtue, a righteous man living in sinful times, why now would it make him more vulnerable, embarrassed?

"Never?" The voice is incredulous. "Never? Not even a whore?"

Steven shudders, shaking his head. "Of course not."

"So you're telling me that you were…are…"

Somewhere inside himself, Steven finds a measure of his pride and lifts his head. "I am a righteous man, Captain Kane. I have never known carnal pleasure."

Christian laughs at that, backing away from the bed before coming back and pulling Steven up. His mouth is hot as it closes over Steven's, his tongue strong as it surges between them. "Well now, can't really say that anymore can you? I've seen you come with a knife shoved up your ass, haven't I?" His hand pets over Steven's skin, and despite his pride and his righteousness, Steven's cock is hardening. "I touch you and you feel a seriously carnal pleasure, Master Carlson, the evidence of it is right here."

His hand closes over Steven's cock, pulling harshly down it. "I will show you carnal pleasure, Steven, the likes of which you will never find anywhere else. Before I let you go, you will know sin in every line of your body." Christian releases Steven, the hand that had just been on his cock sliding into his hair and dragging him toward the edge of the bed. "We will begin with your mouth. Open."

His cock is hard and bigger this close and Steve still doesn't fully understand until that cock is inside his mouth, Christian's hands holding his hair and shoving into him. Steven gags, tries to swallow around the cock, tries to breathe, and just as he's about to panic, Christian pulls out again, but he's thrusting in again quickly.

Steven's eyes water as he closes them, trying desperately to keep from passing out as he is used and when Christian comes, the salty taste floods his mouth.

"Swallow." Christian's cock is slipping out of his mouth and Steven wants to spit, but Christian's hand is on his face, his voice firm. He manages, gasping for air to keep from throwing up. "Good."

He leaves Steven for the moment, but returns with a goblet filled with wine. "Drink." When Steven has gulped down several swallows of the wine, he takes it away again. "You will grow accustomed to the taste."

Steven's hand curls around his cock and Christian chuckles as he heads back to his desk. "Feel free to take care of that." He fixes Steven with his stare. "You do at least know how to do that, don't you?"

"I hate you." Steven says it softly, nearly under his breath as he turns away.

"I know you do." Christian responds unexpectedly. "I like it that way."



It's the night when things are easiest. In the dark, Steven can close his eyes and pretend that this is something other than a prisoner and his captor, something other than sin and heat and hatred. When Christian is sleeping, or lying loose and languid beside him, the ship is more still, as if it too is more at ease when he is.

"Three weeks." Christian says softly into the dark.

Steven stirs, turning to look at him. "You asked earlier. That's how long."

Three weeks. It seems so much longer. How could he have fallen so far from himself in so little time? "Since I came aboard?"

Christian draws him in, pressing their bodies together. "Since you gave yourself to me. Five since you came aboard." His hand glides over Steven's skin. "Most don't last three days…most lose me once they want me. You…" His tongue follows Steven's shoulder, up his neck. "…do you know why I keep you?"

Steven's heart is pounding and his body is warm with want from his touch, his kiss. "No."

"Hmm…" Christian's mouth nestles up to his ear, but he doesn't tell Steven why, he hums lightly and drifts off to sleep, leaving Steven to wonder.



Steven does his best not to watch as James washes Christian there in the cabin, a bucket of warm water and soap the closest thing to a bath to be had on the ship. It only reminds him that he has not been allowed such luxuries in all of his captivity, that his skin is coated in sweat and come, his hair slick with the weeks of dirt and sweat.

When they are done, Christian dresses slowly, dismissing the cabin boy and tossing wet hair off his face. "Cheer up Steven, you'll get a proper bath before I send you back to the world.

Steven almost doesn't find his voice to ask, inching toward the edge of the bed. "And when…when will you send me back?"

"When I tire of you I imagine." Christian comes to the bed, his hand sliding into Steven's hair. "When I grow weary of the little noises you make when you do not want me to know how much you like my cock. When I can no longer stand the way you blush and hide your eyes like a woman who has never known a man. When you no longer taste of fear and desperation, of disgust and arousal…then Steven…then I will send you home."

His kiss is almost tender then, his tongue soft as it explores Steven's mouth. "Maybe I'll even make a man out of you first, give that cock of yours something warm and wet to sink into before I let you go."

Steven opens his eyes, but before he can speak the plea on his lips, Christian is gone, buckling on his sword belt and disappearing behind the door.



Days stretch out and he is mostly alone during them. James brings him food. Sometimes he eats with the captain, most often he eats alone. The shackles are removed at some point while he sleeps. He wakes alone in the cold gray of a not-quite-morning, unsure of why he's awake.

The ship is quiet, still. Christian is gone. Steven is alone, his bruised wrists released from the chains, though the chains still hang from the wall. His ass still aches from the brutal fucking of the night before, come dried on his ass and thighs.

He shifts to his knees, rising up to look out the small window. The sea is calm, the sky heavy with clouds. He can see nothing more.

For a long time nothing changes, then the door opens slowly and James slips inside. He carries the usual breakfast tray, but his usual grin and lewd commentary is gone.

"What…" Steven stops when James looks at him. "Is something wrong?"

James sets the tray on the bed and hovers. When he finally speaks, his voice is low. "We bury our dead."

"Dead?"

James sits on the end of the bed. "We come here to drop 'em in. Cap'n's up top overseeing."

"You mean, you carry them around in the ship?"

James nods as Steven picks up the bread on his tray. "We got a hold, we keep 'em until we can come here. It's always quiet here. Lest they hear us, and come take us under."

Steven sits back with his bread. He'd never considered a pirate's funeral, figuring Kane just threw the bodies over wherever they fell. James stands, fidgeting. "Truth is, I'd rather be in here like you than out there with the dead." He leans in to whisper. "Rumor is the Cap'n comes from these waters."

He's alone again after that, and for the rest of the day. Some time near noon, he hears the distant sound of water splashing, and he counts five heavy objects hitting the water. The ship starts moving after that and the sound of men reveling rises up to him from below.

Christian is fairly well drunk as he stumbles in later, stripping as he comes and dropping into bed beside Steven, pulling him close and holding him as he falls asleep.



"Come here, I want you to see something."

Christian holds out his hand and Steven puts his feet to the floor, rising slowly to cross to him. He stands by the forward window, near the door, looking out over the deck. Steven crosses to him, takes his hand and is pulled in, settled in front of the pirate to look out the glass.

"Do you see that speck on the horizon?" When Steven nods, Christian nuzzles into his neck. "That is one of your ships. My scout tells me it is the Merry Mary, Captain Morgan's ship."

Steven can not suppress the sharp intake of air, the flair of hope in his chest. "We will overtake it by nightfall." Christian's arms circle his waist, pull his naked body up against his clothed one. Steven can feel his arousal. "When we do, when we have taken her as surely as I have taken you, I will make you an offer."

The pirate's mouth leaves his ear, travels over his skin, the burn of his whiskers igniting the fire in Steven's stomach. There has been so little pain in the last few days compared to the beginning, but even the hint of it is enough to remind him of the knife and the whip, and the way it made him feel. As if sensing his thoughts, Christian's mouth opens, his teeth scraping over skin, biting down on Steven's shoulder as his hand closed over Steven's hardening cock.

"Put your hands on the wall."

Steven does, his hands bracing on either side of the window. Christian pulls back on his hips, his hands stroking over his ass. "Watch the ship, Steven. Watch it come while I fuck you."

Steven gasps as Christian enters him, dropping his head forward. He knows anyone on deck could see them if they only looked their way, knows Christian doesn't care. Christian's hand fists in his hair, pulling his head back up, directing his eyes back to the ship. It seems closer than before, but it's probably just his imagination…the idea of freedom from this, from the humiliation, the fear.

Christian's nails rake down his back and Steven whimpers, his cock twitching against his thigh. "Do you think about him, Steven?" Christian asks, fucking up hard. "Have you thought about your Captain Morgan fucking your ass the way I do?"

Steven shakes his head, or tries to, but Christian is still holding him tightly. "No. No. Never."

He can feel Christian's smile, even if he can't see it. "But you are now, aren't you?" Christian's thrusting is hard, pushing Steven toward the window. "He's bigger than me…taller…his cock would stretch this ass, make you whine, moan…bet you'd come all over yourself before he even got all the way in."

Steven reaches for his cock with one hand, half to hold it to keep it from coming, half to stroke it and push it there, but Chris yanks on his hair. "Hands on the wall." Steven groans, swallows hard as he moves his hand back. Christian licks a long line up his spine. His lips close over the last mark from the whip, mostly healed now, following it up. "Want him to bend you over that desk of yours, Master Carlson, put your belly on your ledgers and spread your cheeks with his fingers, warm you up…fuck you with his cock?"

Steven groans and shifts, wanting something to touch his cock, to rub him, making him come. Christian fucks up three times fast and floods him with heat, pulling him back away from the window, his voice in Steven's ear. "He can't have you Steven. You belong to me."

They stumble backward until they're at the bed and Christian pushes Steven back onto it, Steven's cock rising between them hard and needy. Christian pushes his legs out, opening him up, exposing his fucked hole. "I'm going to make sure you understand that."

Steven never really sees what it is that Christian shoves into him, bigger than Christian's dick, bigger and harder and it hurt so much. Steven's eyes close, his hips lift, bucking and trying to pull away, but only giving him more room to push it in deeper. Fire explodes inside him, his cock spewing out over his stomach and still Christian thrusts it into him, out again and in, and Steven's cock rises quickly, wanting more.



He wakes to the sound of canons, his body achy and sore. He's spread out on the bed, his skin still slick with sweat, painted with come that's both his and Christian's. He doesn't move. Isn't sure he can. His last orgasm had sent him into the dark.

He lies and listens to the sounds of the battle. Morgan was a fighter. He never surrendered easily. Eventually the sounds change, and the ship shudders as they are pulled flush to the other ship. The battle is brief after that.

The door opens and Christian appears, flush and smelling of gunpowder. He crosses the room, climbs onto the bed, straddling over him, hair falling down to frame Steven's face.

"I promised you an offer." His voice is gruff, touched with amusement and lust. "I will let you join your ship."

Steven can barely breathe, his eyes searching out the truth of his words. "You will?"

Christian sits back, nodding. "The choice is yours. You may leave this cabin and cross over to your ship. But you go as you are now. Sweat and come covered, naked, bruised. And in your place I will take one of your crew. You will be free and I will never seek you out again."

Steven's chest tightens, his eyes flashing at the false hope of the open door. If he did that, they would know…Jeffrey would know exactly what he was, what Kane had made him…he would be naked and vulnerable and the whole world would know he was a whore, a pirate's whore.

Christian's face shows his amusement, shows that he knows the struggle Steven is going through. "If you choose to remain, we will make port in a little more than a week. You will be bathed, clothed, money put in your pocket and you will be set on dry land." He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth turning up in a crooked smile. "And you will belong to me for the remainder of your days…I will call on you when I chose, and you will come to me, give yourself to me."

Steven lays under him, his heart thundering, his head reeling. The choices are both unthinkable. One would brand him for life, lose his wife, his business, everything. The other would mean this…at the whim of a madman. "I hate you." Steven grinds the words out between his teeth. Christian rubs his cock with his own, and despite the words, Steven feels the response.

"Your choice?"

Steven looks to the door once more. If he chose to stay, if Kane kept his word, he could always deny him later, hire security to keep him safe, hire investigators to find the brigand and see him hung for piracy. He licks his lips and doesn't look up at Christian as he says it. "I stay."

"Good."

Christian jumps up, away, and is gone, closing the door behind him. Steven's cock is hard, despite the heavy orgasm of earlier. He closes his hand around it and curls onto his side, wondering if he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.


The next days are different somehow. Christian seems content to let him sleep and eat and wander the cabin without taunting him. The sex is different as well, not necessarily gentle, but not as violent at least. It is three days later, when James brings the evening meal, that Christian stops him before he leaves. "James, close the door and remove your pants."

James looks surprised, but doesn't argue, just glances at Steven and does as he's told. Steven is laying on the bed, on his back as Christian guides the cabin boy toward the bed. "Our Master Carlson here has never had the pleasure of his cock being sucked."

James nods, but looks up at Christian as though uncertain. "Go on."

Steven frowns himself, reaching for his cock as if to protect it. "I don't—"

"That is not for you to decide, is it?" Christian asks, fixing him with a stare as James climbs onto the bed, kneeling between Steven's legs. His breath is warm on Steven's cock, which still lies mostly flaccid against his thigh. "James is quite good at it." Christian's hand pets over James, through his hair and down his back as James' fingers trace over Steven's cock. At first, he's convinced it won't respond, but as a wet sensation joins the feeling of fingers, it surprises him, hardening to the feeling of tongue circling the head.

Christian grins down at him, his own cock in his hand now as he moves to the end of the bed, behind the kneeling James. "That's a good boy, James. Show him how it's done."

Steven is busy watching Christian ready James for his entry, so when a mouth closes over his now hard cock, all heat and wet and suction, he gasps, his hands reaching involuntarily for his cock. James sucks up, off, then opens his mouth again and descends, closing his lips around the base of his cock and humming lightly.

Steven's hips twitch, lifting until James pushes down on them, shifting his position as Christian finally slides into him from behind. James stills for a moment as Christian takes up a rhythm and James adjusts, then he's back to sucking, licking, blowing softly over wet skin, and Steven has to close his eyes because the sight of Christian fucking the boy combined with the sensations of his warm, wet mouth all over Steven's cock is too much.

His hands grip the dirty sheets on the bed, the pillow, anything in a vain attempt to hold off, to not come so fast, but when James takes the whole cock into his mouth, the tip in the back of his throat as he swallows over and over, Steven can't keep himself from coming, yelling as his hips thrust up, despite James holding him down.

James chokes, sputtering as he pulls off of him, then goes still, falling forward onto Steven as Christian fucks him. When Christian is done, he pulls away, slapping James on the ass. "That will be all James. Back to your duties."

"Aye Cap'n." James is back into his pants and out the door before Christian sits at his desk to eat.

"We should work on getting you're feet under you." Christian says sometime later. "We'll walk after supper."

Christian gives him a pair of pants to wear that evening. They're old and baggy and barely stay on his hips, but they cover his nakedness. It is the first time he's left the cabin since coming aboard. They walk out onto the deck, slowly, as if he's an invalid who has been bed-bound.

Steven tries to ignore the stares. The crew stop their work to watch as the walk toward the prow. He's never seen the ship before, and has to admit, it's impressive. Three turns around the deck and Christian returns them to his cabin. He holds out his hand for the pants and Steven surrenders them without a fight. Christian catches his hand, examining the fading bruises on his wrists, nodding to himself. "Sleep." He gestures to the bed and disappears back out on deck.



There's a shoreline on the horizon. Steven could see it that evening when the captain had taken him walking on deck. Nine days have passed since the Merry Mary and it seems the captain would keep his word.

Steven is mostly healed, the marks of Christian's knife fading, the bruises of his captivity gone from purple and blue to dusky rose and dark brown. He kneels on the bed and waits with trepidation. He knows the signs of land herald his departure, his freedom. He can taste it on the salty air. A return to his life, to normal desires.

Yet...he wonders if he even desires freedom. He still hates the man that holds him, but he cannot deny that these last weeks in the pirate's bed have brought Steven pleasures he would never know again. The things he's known here are forbidden, unspoken. The pleasures of the flesh that corrupt the soul. Certain death if discovered. And yet…his body thrummed with need, with desire for those things now, and he wasn't sure he could escape that, even in escaping his captivity.

Out there, on that horizon, Steven's future waited. Here on this bed, he has no expectations but to serve.

The door opens and Christian deposits a pile of clothes on the desk. "Tomorrow."

Steven nods, dropping his eyes. "Tonight I will give you something to remember me by."

That too is known, understood…that Christian would take his time tonight, have his way with Steven's body for the final time. Steven is taken back by the return of the shackles on his wrists, pulling his hands tight to the wall, while his body lay across the bed. He's even more puzzled when Christian adds leg irons that secure his ankles to the bed as well. "Trust me, you'll thank me for them soon enough."

Fingers and lips move over his skin, teasing nipples until they are hard and begging, his cock responding almost as quickly. Christian chuckles, kneeling between his legs, his own cock brushing against Steven's. "I have something special for you."

Steven watches as Christian lifts a small metal rod. On the end is a heavy metal skull and cross bones, the mark of a pirate. Christian's smile is frightening as he leans over Steven, their cocks dragging together, and he holds the skull in the flame of the candle by the bed. Steve watches in morbid fascination as the metal heats, glowing red as Christian finally sits back. Christian's free hand grabs Steven's knee, presses it out to the side, opening him up. Steven understands in that heartbeat what Christian means to do and he struggles, pulling on the restraints, his legs and arms straining.

The smell of burning flesh and the sound of screaming fill the cabin before Steven is consciously aware of the burn, of the fire etching into the skin of his inner thigh. He can feel the heat of the branding on his cock, it's so close. And he realizes just before he passes out that he's coming all over himself to the sound of Christian laughing.



It isn't quite dawn, dark still lays over the sleepy streets and the sky is only pink where it kisses the ocean in the distance. He's not entirely sure this is real, but he steps down off the gangplank, taking tentative steps away from the ship that has been his home—prison—the last months.

His skin and hair is clean, his body healed, if not completely whole. The clothes he is wearing are expensive and new and the purse in his pocket is heavy with coin. The bag in his hand holds gifts for his bride to be, and letters of trade from merchants he purportedly had been visiting with in his time away. The keys to his home and office are once more in his pockets.

He is free, and home. The dock he walks is only a few yards from the one where he was taken. Steven stops and turns, his eyes following the lines of the ship as the men prepare it to depart. The captain stands at the wheel, his eyes already on the horizon.

Steven's thigh burns. If he closes his eyes he can smell the come and burning skin, can feel the way Christian fucked him after. Steven opens his eyes and watches The Shadow Queen pull away.

He may be home. But he's fairly certain he won't ever be free.