the good old days

their witty banter is almost too easy. he doesn’t even have to think about it and he doubts jesse does much either. there’s no way they’d be so flippant talking with one another if they were both thinking things through. they’re toeing a line and it frightens henri how willing he thinks he may be to cross it. “sous chef?” he scoffs before grinning. “that is french – did you know? you can be taught!” he claps his hands together delightedly and, though he’s mostly joking, he can’t say even the tiniest reminder of his native tongue doesn’t bring him some peace. henri becomes suddenly aware of how closely they are standing when the conversational subject shifts. henri drinks in the sight of jesse’s blush and matches it with a slight tint of his own but pairs it with a glittering grin that’s still dripping with the playfulness of his question. “mmm. yes, you could say i’m intimately familiar with the taste,” he coos, tipping his head to the side as his tongue swipes deliberately across his lips. “but i’m far more familiar with how it feels.” henri adds a cheeky wink before he’s drifting breezily towards the freezer with a peal of giggles– some combination of his budding excitement and his delight at the lewd repartee. upon investigation, his lips fall into a pout as he turns back towards the pirate (cheeks still burning a little at the suggestive tangent). “no frozen ones, m’afraid. is making them by scratch very hard?” his gaze falls upon a deep fryer which looks promising but also dangerous. jesse’s already down a few fingers, henri doesn’t really want him to suffer any burns on top of that.

“shut up, henry.” jesse’s voice is kind of terse, but his grin only droops a little, “i still hate your stupid country, don’t worry.” he rolls his eyes, though they’re quick to lock in on the very light pink henri’s cheeks have taken on. jesse’s chest tightens and his mouth goes dry, watching henri’s tongue lick over his lips. if he didn’t know better, jesse would say it was an accident. but the glint in henri’s eye, and the damned wink, were indicative of something else entirely. he watches henri walk over to the fridge, his mind still firmly on the implications of what he’d just said. plenty of thoughts flicked through his mind, though none of which held his attention like the thought of... well, jesse was trying not to think about it. henri says something, but it takes him a second to catch up. he jumps a little though, at the noise, and tilts his head in confusion, “um.” he starts off, realizing he’s been asked a question, “ye-- i mean, what was that?” he asks, following henri’s gaze to the frier, “it’ll do all the grunt work, don’t worry.”

even though he knows the flattery is entirely in jest, henri allows a smile to creep onto his lips. what he’s said is amusing after all so the fact that jesse is playing along with the joke could be considered a minor victory. “opportunity for promotion on my first day of work? now that’s what i call going up in the world. next thing you know, we’ll be co-chefs.” he doesn’t miss the way the pirate’s hand lifts as though to touch him; he also notices when he seems to think better of it. that’s probably for the best since henri’s still not sure how he’s supposed to be interpreting jesse’s touch, not now that they’ve almost kissed. the little prince is caught in between wanting him to just do it and never wanting it to happen again. focusing on the conversation is easier and he listens with an interest he doesn’t even have to fake, somewhat surprised to find a pirate so… within his realm of understanding. “i wouldn’t say i’ve ever gone for thirty but i’ll eat no grilled sandwich with less than three different kinds of cheeses.” henri’s expression goes playful, eyes glittering when he casts them up at jesse. “but you’re familiar with what ass tastes like then?” it’s accompanied with a snicker and he enters the kitchen happily, whirling on a heel to face jesse. “you mean it? we can have fries?” now the teasing is dropped, replaced with something lighter, sweeter. henri is excited, despite his best intentions. “yes please!”

“don’t go getting ahead of yourself, now.” jesse warns, giving up on holding back his grin, “i don’t share well... sous chef. maybe.” it’s overwhelming, how much jesse wants to kiss henri every time he opens his mouth. he’s is just so damn charming, it’s hard to remember who they are and what their roles are suppose to be. it’s simpler to forget that he’d carried this man out of a bar; away from his home. or that henri’s parents had all but signed his mother’s death warrant. none of which was crossing jesse’s mind at the moment as he blushed, forgetting all about grilled cheese, “yep.” he glances down at his feet, “aren’t you?” he looks at henri and raises an eyebrow, challenging him to be just as honest. he wants to take back his offer then, just because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone so excited before. it’s almost unnerving. and slightly catching, “sure.” jesse shrugs, “i dunno if we have any frozen... we might have to make ‘em from scratch. you can check the freezer, if ya want.”

“ These people must have a death wish.” She mumbled under her breath, as she walked down the shore. She knew her family would not be pleased, and that was an understatement. These pirates had most likely earned the ire of every country from kidnapping their children. Still, a small part of her was impressed they had succeeded. Pyongyang is full of guards and officials how on Earth could they have done it?

She sat down on the docks and yes she’d spoken of being strong but…..she wanted to go home. She sniffed and now that she was alone, she let her tears fall. So-Won cried, when the wood creaked. Quickly she looked around before noticing a piece of wood sticking out. She grabbed it and turned around. 

“Stay back!” She exclaimed holding it up in defense.

jesse had been in the process of lighting his cigarette when he heard a cry next to him. he jumped, so startled he lost his grip on both his lighter and his cigarette. he watched, more horrified over what he’d just dropped into the ocean below them than the scream, “jesus motherfucking christ!” he shouted, his hand going for the knife on his belt as he rounded on the girl. he leaves it in his holster though, when he notices the tear tracks. they don’t, however, stop him from keeping his fingers curled around the grip. just in case.

“put that down.” his voice is calm now, raising his other hand in what could be seen as a surrender, “i’m not out here to slit yer throat or anything. i just wanted a cig. which ya just ruined... thanks for that, by the way.” jesse gives her a dirty look, “you can go back to your crying. or whatever. pretend i’m not here while i try to figure out how to smoke with no lighter.”

jesse seems to be trying to behave himself – or, at least, that’s what henri assumes since the pirate isn’t making as many snide comments as he had been before their row. it’s not like the french prince isn’t giving him plenty of ammo but the fact that jesse is only proving himself more trustworthy by not arming himself with it is unsettling to say the least. so is the way that henri’s heart keeps tremoring but he doesn’t call attention to it. “oh fuck off,” he sniffs in mock offense. “i can’t burn water! i’m talented and gifted and intelligent and i could handle a pot of water on a stove!” he’s actually not so sure – the thought of cooking stresses him out – but he’s going to put on a brave face so jesse doesn’t poke fun at him further. he puffs out his chest, standing up as tall as his small stature allows. that posture deflates a little with his next confession. “french fries.” he pulls a face, knowing it even sounds ridiculous, given his country of origin. “used to sneak into the palace kitchen, preheat the oven and put on a tray of fries once it beeped. fourteen to twenty minutes is all they took and i had my favorite midnight snack. i’m a proper chef, i know.”

jesse bites his lip as the corners of his mouth lift into a smile; not wanting to show just how amused he is. french fries. he thinks it might be the most ridiculous thing he’s heard henri say, which is saying a lot. at least in jesse’s opinion, “talented and gifted and intelligent? And you know how to heat up a tray’a frozen fries? maybe we’ll have to move you up to vegetable washer, with those skills. you’re a waste as royal water boiler.” he reaches out to give henri a gentle shove, but changes his mind halfway through and stuffs his hand in his pocket instead, “i’ve always gone for a good grilled cheese, when i can. you’ve gotta load it up with like, bacon and at least thirty different kinds of cheese though. if you just put that nasty yellow stuff on it it tastes like ass.” jesse thinks this might be the first unprompted bit about himself that he’s shared with henri. it’s only a fleeting thought though, now that they’ve arrived at the kitchen, “so... french fries then?”

he feels a bit silly, being scolded by a pirate of all people, but he has the decency to look sheepish as he shrugs. “i didn’t trust any of the food,” he confesses in a low voice. much like his admitting he wanted the door locked, everything about his tone indicates that this isn’t meant for public ears. a prince feeling vulnerable is a risk that should never be exposed. “and i didn’t trust any of the other pirates to make me something.” implying that he trusts jesse now isn’t something he wants to see the reaction to so he bobs a little nod and flits towards the door, spry on his feet. he grins at the formal nickname, knowing it’s sarcastic but loving it all the same. “just call me the royal water boiler,” he trills before slipping outside and into the hallway so they can get to the kitchen.

jesse flinches a little at the implication that henri trusts him. he very much wants to tell him he shouldn’t, but there’s not a lot of evidence to back him up. he is about to cook the brat dinner, after all. so jesse keeps silent, only raising an eyebrow as henri starts off towards the door. he laughs quietly, trailing after henri as he seems to flitter about much more gracefully than jesse thinks he himself has ever been, “i’m not entirely sure i trust ya to do even that.. for all i know you could end up burning it. have you ever even stepped foot in a kitchen before?” he’s partially joking, but mostly genuinely curious. even with all the time he spent having a cook on the ship, jesse always found himself in the kitchen in one way or another. though he imagines the cooks might have seen it more as being underfoot than the helping out jesse had always called it, “or made anything? cereal? toast?”

henri’s eyes flutter in surprise, half at the fact that jesse let the suggestion of a blowjob pass without comment and half at the fact he was actually agreeing to feed him. it’s not like he hasn’t eaten – he just hasn’t eaten all that well since his arrival. nerves, the fear of being caught doing something he ought not to be doing, and other factors played into his finding himself in the kitchen only when the need got so bad he couldn’t stand it any more. so the flash of delight on henri’s face and the accompanying smile is nothing but honest, though he’s quick to mask it with a roll of his eyes. “i mean i’m sure it’ll be no french cuisine but it’s got to be better than the apple i snagged for dinner yesterday.” he unfolds from the bed and slides to his feet, crossing the room a bit tentatively, like jesse’s gonna try and kiss him again, unprovoked. “luckily, you’re in the presence of an even worse cook so i think you’ll look decent by comparison.” he splayed his hands under his chin like he was presenting himself on some kind of display. “spoiled prince who can’t lift a hand for himself, remember?”

henri’s expression coupled with his comment gives jesse the strong feeling henri hasn’t been eating. which, really, hadn’t even crossed his mind before now. they had a kitchen. and it wasn’t like anything was under lock and key. nor were the royals, really. he doubted the thought of someone not even being able to prepare something simple for themselves had crossed anyone’s mind. he gives henri a puzzled look, “you know, if you’d pointed this out earlier you wouldn’t have had to subsist on fruit for the past several days. and i am under strict orders to keep you alive so...” he trails off, shrugging and softening his expression, trying to keep things normal in the wake of this realization. he watches the careful way henri moves towards him and wonders, briefly, if henri felt even more uncomfortable around him now. he stands up, keeping his distance, and nods towards the door, “after you then, your highness. you might be spoiled, but i’m sure there’s something we can find for you to help with. even if it’s boiling water.”

“of course, of course,” the prince hums, already trying to brainstorm some of the curse words he had the castle employees help him learn in other languages. he keeps his gaze fixated on jesse all through his pondering, scrutinizing the change in position the pirate takes and arching a brown at the smugness he can see echoing in his features. he decides to mirror the posture at least, tucking up his slight form on the bed and draping his own arms around his pulled in knees. “duck calls? honestly!” he scoffs, shaking his head with a sharp bark of laughter. “since i know you’re not attracted to me sexually in any way whatsoever, i know you couldn’t possibly have meant that my mouth was useful for any kind of pleasure. and you definitely didn’t want to kiss me, so that’s not the purpose for my mouth either. hmmm,” he’s still blushing, of course, but not so much that he can’t tease back, “that leaves me to believe that you think my mouth would be useful for… eating! and you’re going to treat me to a decent meal around here! how kind of you!”

jesse contemplates denying all of it. for shock value, he tells himself. especially since henri seems to be making fun of him, like he already knows what jesse’s thinking. he doesn’t answer any of it though because, while it would probably make henri blush more, he also keeps hearing sally in his head. on top of all the other reasons liking henri in any way is a bad idea, he’s also going to leave at some point. in one way or another. jesse’s stomach does another flip, his brain flicking through all the ways his captain might come up with. he pushes that thought aside for now, intent on interpreting the flip as a hunger pang. he deliberates for a moment and gives henri a one shoulder shrug, “yeah, alright.” jesse pauses to briefly look down at his feet, “i don’t know about decent though. i’m not much of a cook. and you’re gonna help, if you want fed.”

“it matters to you…” henri repeats softly and he can’t quite find a reason why it would matter to jesse whether or not henri wanted to kiss him. unless he wanted to kiss henri in return which was opening a whole other can of worms that the prince thinks he would rather avoid. even now, he’s still thinking about it – how the air had left his lungs entirely, how he’d pictured the callous feeling of jesse’s lips pressed against his own, how he wanted strong arms to wrap around his trim frame and hold him instead of pushing him away like he’d provoked. he’d probably have dropped the pressing gaze he’s being given currently so as to avoid the intensity of jesse’s eyes but he couldn’t, no, wouldn’t be the one to look away first. the insult makes his lips quirk upwards in an unexpected smile, bright and momentarily genuine. “good. means i can insult ya’ and you won’t be any wiser.” he tilts his head coyly and allows the tension to ease out of his shoulders where he’s perched on the edge of the bed opposite the pirate. blood rushes to his cheeks immediately at the next statement, though he’s unsure if it’s suggestive or if his mind’s just interpreting it that way given the tension of the previous moment. “oh yeah?” he still prompts, voice sounding a little reedy and high. “and what purposes are you imagining, might i ask?”

“yep.” is all jesse says, popping the p at the end. he breaks whats turned into something of a staring contest to sit fully on the bed, pulling his knees to his chest as he leans against the wall. he snorts, “yeah, because it’s not like ya don’t have thirty other languages i don’t know to insult me in.” this is better. easier. jesse feels his heart retreat to a normal pace and his fists unclench. he rests his chin on top of a knee and looks up just in time to see an even worse blush spread across henri’s face. henri had made the right guess, then. mostly jesse was just trying to provoke a reaction, but there was also a little part of him that felt like he needed to push back towards the tense moment from before. especially after henri’s small, but still significant, validation. jesse licks his lips as the grin that had spread across his face widens, “duck calls, mostly.” he deadpans, raising an eyebrow, “what sorta things were you thinkin’ about, hm?”  

“LOOK, i’m tired of mumbling and grumbling about being stuck here. when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade, no? i say we do something a little fun, you and i. or, you can wallow in your own self-pity while i’m having all the fun.”

“why would i be wallowing? I live here.” jesse huffs a laugh, “but i’ll play along. what’d you have in mind? i can’t imagine a royal being able to come up with anything too exciting.”

he very much wants to fling himself onto the bed and hide in the blankets or maybe even fling himself out the window and take his chances. if it weren’t for the softened tone of jesse’s voice, he’d be absolutely convinced that the question is only being asked to humiliate him. like somehow, jesse’s read the confusion in henri’s thoughts and is using it against him. however, jesse’s question sounds genuine and curious which almost makes it worse. did henri want jesse to kiss him? hell if he knows! he wants so badly for that to be his answer and opens his mouth to say as much but nothing comes out. henri feels very small. even when jesse had been towering over him just moments ago, he’d felt on equal footing and sure of himself. now, he’s blushing like he won’t be able to stop and jesse’s question has him frozen to the spot. the pirate is even giving him space which is cue number one that henri looks like as much of a wreck as he feels. he starts to shake his head no because that’s what he ought to say, that’s what his princely duty would have him say. even then, his eyes are telling a completely different story and his no slowly shifts to a distinctly nodding yes (it feels more truthful already) which then melts into a little shrug. he takes his own few steps backwards to find the bed, perching on the edge as he tries to catch his breath. “doesn’t matter, i guess.” he finds it difficult to hold jesse’s gaze and looks down to his hands which fold in his lap. “can you insult the way i speak again? that would be easier.”

jesse remains steadfast that the only reason his heart drops when henri starts to shake his head is because it’s been just a little too long. it couldn’t possibly be because he’d wanted henri to want to kiss him. that was stupid. and ridiculous. and jesse was a grown man for christ sake, why were they both blushing like teenagers? the space he puts between them is really for both their sakes because once henri starts shaking his head yes, it’s all jesse can do to keep himself from plowing across the room at him. he settles for tight fists and white knuckles instead, “it matters to me.” he wants to look away as he speaks but instead he forces himself to keep his eyes on henri, “you absolute twat.” he tacks on after a beat of silence, “can’t even understand half the shit you say, you know.” it’s half hearted, both the lopsided grin and the comment, but jesse feels better after. a little less tense, at least, “but i imagine there are other purposes for your mouth you’d be good at.”

“riiiiiight,” he drawls out his response as sensation returns to his body. he’s able to gather his wits about him enough to truly register what (the fuck) had just happened and he allows a gloating grin to start to curl up his lips. a few silent moments pass as he recovers and he’s fully prepared to tout his superiority by time jesse speaks again – if only his words didn’t derail henri entirely all over again. he had managed to get this far without blushing but the literal confirmation of his suspicions makes his cheeks prickle with uncomfortable heat and he’s certain the color doesn’t stop there. he’s forced to resort to a very unprincelike stammering, the start of sentences coming out but with no proper way to complete them. “i didn’t – i wouldn’t – you can’t just – ugh.” the last is accompanied by a flurry of arm movements before his hands settle on his now reddened cheeks. he starts shaking his head in tiny increments, hoping jesse would just stop and put him out of his misery. “good,” he reaches at last, dropping his palms from his mottled skin to fold his arms over his chest not in aggression this time but more as a protective barrier from them getting too close again. “for a second there, i thought you were going to kiss me because you wanted to kiss me.” there’s a tinge of something in his voice and it sounds awfully too close to hurt for henri’s liking. call him sensitive for not wanting to be kissed only for the sake of compliance.

the way henri speaks, it’s almost as if he’s disappointed. or hurt. or something. it’s right there, just along the edges of the blush spreading angrily down his skin. jesse goes still, “did you want me to kiss you?” he asks quietly, as if he’s scared of the answer but also scared he’s not going to get an answer he likes. even if he’s not sure which one would upset him more. he wants to go back to the fight they were having. at least there he knew where he stood. here? he had no idea what to expect. he starts to take a step back towards henri, but ends up going backwards again instead. henri’s words from last night coming back to haunt him. how he’d bolted his door when he’s never done that a day in his life. jesse finds himself not wanting to scare him. not like this. he takes another step back and hits the bed. he plops down, not taking his eyes off henri as he waits for an answer.

maybe you’d drowned, hooks in henri’s head, replaying until he feels a bit queasy. it’s very possible. for all that henri knows and for all that he’s learned, the little prince doesn’t know how to swim. he doesn’t say as much; why would he? and instead focuses on the matter at hand. he fully expects to be pushed again. he’s practically asked for it. maybe he’ll even get decked; the royal has never been punched before so some part of him looks forward to it (masochistic as it sounds). and then jesse’s eyes drop to his fucking lips. henri’s brain scrambles. his heart kicks into overdrive until its beating so hard, he thinks maybe it makes his entire frame vibrate. teeth clamp down into his lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood and time seems to slow around him. is he really about to be kissed right now? and the worst part is he’d let it happen. his eyes had even closed so that when jesse is exhaling his pathetic comeback and getting out of henri’s space, he has to flutter them open to register his victory. it doesn’t feel much like a win, though, with how he has to swallow dryly and sluggishly piece together his thoughts just to string together a coherent response. he can’t seem to shake the desire to run his own fingers through jesse’s hair. “you can – ‘m stayin’ here.”

“then i’m staying here too... because i can’t keep letting you wander off.” jesse reasons, sounding a bit slow as he tries to wrap his brain around what he’s almost done. he’s head is going in thirty different directions and he’s still wondering what it would’ve been like. he thinks, maybe, the kiss would’ve mimicked how they fight. harsh and rough and soft at the end. he thinks he would’ve liked it. he’s missed the moment though and now things are awkward. at least on his end. he clears his throat, and looks at henri for a moment before blurting, “i wasn’t gonna kiss you.” and now that the words are out of his mouth, jesse’s kicking himself. of course he was going to kiss him. henri had to know that. and it seemed like they weren’t going to mention it before jesse had to go and open his stupid mouth, “i mean...” he trails off, scrambling for a way to salvage any part of what he’d said and coming up empty, “no, actually.. i was. but only to shut you up and then you did. so i didn’t.”

“je suis désolé. ist das zu kompliziert zu verstehen? skal jeg bremse for deg?” he can’t immediately recall any swedish but that’s because he’s seething at this point and it’s taking everything in his power not to go charging towards the infuriating pirate. it also angers henri that jesse has to be so goddamned tall. couldn’t the pirate overlord have at least tried to match the tiny prince with someone of average height? “i look forward to it. maybe then the poor pirate won’t have to wait two hours for the return of his prince. better yet, how about you don’t send me on your insipid errands at all? last time i checked, you still have both your feet so you can very easily fetch the box yourself next time.” he catches his footing at the shove and pops right back into place, crowding the much taller man’s space. “make me,” he challenges through gritted teeth, eyes blazing.

jesse doesn’t understand a damn word that comes out of henri’s mouth after that. the only thing he can tell is that they’re all different languages and jesse's kind of amazed by it. but that doesn’t last long, since henri is still trying to fight him. not to mention the whole point of rattling off all those languages (languages jesse still wasn’t sure he could speak) was to make jesse angry, “i didn’t sit there the whole time you absolute idiot. i thought maybe you’d drowned. which would’ve just made my fuckin’ day. but instead, here you are.” his breathes are coming out in harsh huffs now and henri is suddenly back to being too close and his eyes-- he looks down at henri’s mouth and starts to lean in. then his brain catches up and the thought of what he’s about to do startles him so badly he takes a step back, “make yourself.” it’s weak and jesse knows it, tucking some hair behind his ear as his conversation with solomon rings in his ears, “we should get back to work.”