#oc.fic

It was risky, going to Cuba and finding Dom. D’Amore would have his head if he found out, that was for sure. Worse, Dom might side with his father on that. The fact that Dom even went along with this forced exile meant that he agreed on some level that Vincenzo D’Amore had a good enough reason to send him here.

Vincenzo Junior had other opinions on the matter, and Sam always liked following Vinny’s gut feelings more than his own.

He was about to flag down a server to order another coffee when finally, Sam saw his mark.

The man hadn’t changed at all, and yet Sam almost didn’t recognize him. Dom’s dark hair was longer, falling to his shoulders in curls that Sam wanted so desperately to tangle his fingers in. He was still pale, too, despite the sunny locale, and Sam couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up in his chest as Dom slipped into the post office.

With an excited grin, Sam stood up and tossed a pile of bills on the table and crossed the street, following Dom inside.

By the time Sam crossed the threshold, Dom was already standing at the wall of mailboxes, his lockbox still open while he rifled through the mail he’d received. Sam watched him for a moment, taking a silent, fortifying breath when Dom’s shoulders seemed to slump.

Reaching into the breast pocket of his own coat, Sam pulled a letter out and leaned close to Dom. “Excuse me, sir, I think the mailman dropped this,” he said, tone teasing and yet far more earnest than he would have liked.

Dom’s reaction was quick, and the world spun until Sam was slammed back against the wall of lockboxes. His free hand barely caught Dom’s other hand before the man could sink one of his favourite knives into Sam’s gut.

“Watch where you put that thing, Kitten,” Sam purred, smirking down at Dom as understanding and disbelief dawned on his expression. “Unless I’ve been reading your letters completely wrong, I don’t think you want me bleeding out all over the floor, yeah?”

Dom backed away quickly, almost as if he had been burned, looking Sam over as he tucked his knife away somewhere hidden. “How the fuck are you here?” he asked, and Sam was pretty sure Dom intended the question to sound sharp, cutting, but it missed the mark a bit.

Sam smirked, stepping closer to Dom. “Well, you see, Dom, we have these amazing contraptions called airplanes, right?” he said slowly, his mouth splitting his face with a proper grin as he towered over Dom, who was trying very hard not to smile and failing. “You get on them? And they fly you across oceans and shit? Surely, you’ve heard of them?”

“You asshole. Fuck off,” Dom bit out, the corners of his mouth ticking upward.

“I would rather fuck you, if given the choice,” Sam teased, and Dom’s eyes looked him over again.

This time, his gaze was hungry, especially with the way it lingered on Sam’s shaggy hair and beard. Stepping into Sam’s space, Dom grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down, just enough to growl in his face, “Come with me.”

Without further ado, Dom let go of Sam and spun on his heel, leaving the post office with a huff. Meeting the curious looks of the post office workers behind the counter, Sam winked and hurried after Dom, following him to a house that looked far too large for just one person to live in alone. Something sad and lonely twinged in Sam’s chest, a painful moment of empathy that had him wanting to hold Dom. The man would never allow it, so Sam would do the next best thing.

They barely cleared the threshold before Sam was slamming the door shut and crowding Dom against it. In a moment of blind, desperate desire, Sam dipped his head as if to kiss Dom, and the other man seemed to tip his mouth upward to accept it. But Sam caught himself, stopped short and rested his forehead against Dom’s, letting their breath mingle in the small, nearly nonexistent space between their mouths. Sam glanced down at Dom’s lips before meeting his eyes. Or he tried to meet Dom’s eyes, but the other man was also looking at his lips.

The fragile moment shattered as Dom sucked in a sharp breath and shoved Sam to his knees. “Put that mouth to proper use.”

Smirking, Sam reached up and literally ripped Dom’s pants open, letting them fall in a tattered heap around his ankles. “As you wish, Kitten,” he said, leaning in as Dom kicked one of his feet free to sling a leg over Sam’s shoulder, sealing his mouth around Dom’s perfect little dick.

From there, it was all heat and desperation, Sam wetly sucking Dom’s dick and licking into his cunt while Dom’s fingers twisted painfully in Sam’s hair. Above him, Sam could hear the thump of Dom’s head against the door as he let it fall back—high, shattered moans exploding from his throat.

Sam lost track of how much time he spent on his knees, as was often the case when he got to have Dom at his mercy like that. He couldn’t even be sure just how many times Dom came before he was being pushed away, Dom gasping a broken little, “Samuele, fuck, need your cock.”

“As you wish, Kitten,” Sam replied thickly, surging to his feet and picking Dom up.

They didn’t make it far, with Dom clinging to him and biting at Sam’s throat. As he stumbled past the living room, Sam turned abruptly and bent Dom over the back of the couch, one hand holding him down while he got his own belt and fly open with the other. When his cock was finally free, Sam wasted no time in lining up and shoving his cock into Dom’s cunt, bottoming out with a slick slap.

At Dom’s sharp hiss, Sam waited, trying to let Dom adjust to the intrusion, but it was certainly a test of patience. “Fuck, Kitten, you’re so fucking tight,” he gasped, hips twitching. He didn’t remember the fit being this snug before.

“Haven’t been fucked lately,” Dom admitted shakily, his nails digging into the leather seat of the couch. Sam tried not to think too much into that statement— it’s not like Dom was waiting for Sam, or that Dom was too hung up on Sam’s cock to have flings in Cuba— but there was still a part of him that was thrilled that he had no “competition” for Dom’s pleasure.

“Well,” Sam started, grabbing Dom’s hips tightly and slowly pulling out. “I’m gonna fix that for the next two weeks.”

The pace Sam set was punishing, brutal and relentless, chasing his own release at that point. He was close, desperate to spill his load inside Dom, hungry to watch his spend drip out of his cunt and down his thighs. Beneath him, Dom was noisy with almost shrill, punched out sounds as he just took what Sam gave him.

Leaning over Dom, Sam propped himself up with his hands on the seat of the couch and pressed several biting kisses to the back of Dom’s shoulder. When Dom threw his head back, Sam shifted his weight so he could gently wrap a hand around the base of Dom’s slender throat, making him arch his back dramatically. Grinding his cock into Dom’s cunt, Sam leaned as close to his face as possible and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

At the soft caress, even as Sam ruthlessly ground his cock down into his g-spot, Dom turned his face toward Sam. With each roll of Sam’s hips, their lips would brush against each other. Not a kiss, but so fucking close it had desperate tears springing to Sam’s eyes.

Blinking the tears away and hoping Dom didn’t notice them, Sam moaned, “Dominik.”

“Samuele,” Dom whined back, his eyes half-lidded and hazy as he tried to meet Sam’s thrusts before he tensed up and clenched almost painfully hard around Sam’s cock.

Dom’s orgasm was intense, the wet heat of him becoming impossibly tight while a hot gush of water spilled around Sam’s cock, down both of their legs, and onto the floor. It wasn’t long after that Sam followed him noisily over the edge, pumping his seed deep into Dom’s cunt as he held their hips flush together.

“Christ, almost fucking forgot how fucking good of a lay you are,” Dom said hoarsely as he shuddered through the aftershocks of his release.

Sam just chuckled and pulled out, dropping to his knees behind Dom to pull his cunt open with his thumbs. “I’m not even close to being done with you today, sweetheart,” he said before licking a firm strip up the messy seam of Dom’s cunt, from dick to taint.

The sun had set by the time they found themselves on the bed, sweat cooling on their skin as they caught their breath. Sam was stretched out on his back, eyes closed with one arm tucked up under his head while the other was wrapped around Dom’s lithe body. The other man was pressed up against Sam’s side, his chin resting on his hand on Sam’s chest. Sam didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Dom was staring, and if the grump was staring he was probably overthinking something.

“Can smell those gears in your head overheating with all that thinkin’,” Sam grumbled, laughing and squirming away when Dom harrumphed and bit one of his nipples.

After they settled again, Dom asked, “Seriously, Sam, how are you here?”

Grunting, Sam shrugged before squawking when Dom bit him again. With a sigh, he kept his eyes closed as he said, “Vinny.”

Dom frowned. “Vinny?”

“Your old man went to Italy for a funeral,” Sam elaborated, shrugging. “So Vinny sent me here.”

There were several beats of silence, and Sam could feel Dom’s gaze on him. It went on long enough that Sam was about to open his eyes to finally look at the man in his arms, but then he felt Dom’s lips against his chest. It wasn’t quite a kiss either, but it was close enough to make that part of Sam that was in love with Dom ache.

“I’m glad you came,” Dom mumbled against his skin, and Sam finally opened his eyes to look down at him.

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling lightly.

“Yeah,” Dom hummed before rolling his eyes with a huff. “It was getting boring here.”

At that, Sam laughed. “Happy to be of service, sweetheart,” he said, and Dom smirked.

“Mm, like the sound of that. Service…” he purred, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Sam’s soft cock, squeezing until Sam hissed. “How quick do you think you can get this back up?”

With a sighing groan, his cock twitching already in Dom’s grip, Sam rolled them so that he was on top of Dom, his hips slotting between pale thighs. “As quick as you want it, sweetheart.”

I reread all of our letters over the years you were away and I know your first letter back to me was probably one of your petty, shitty little Fuck You’s because I stopped sending my letters. I say sending because I didn’t stop writing them. Jesus, Sweetheart, I was so fucking in love with you, even back then. I was fucking insane about you and I knew it the fucking moment you got out of my truck at the airport.

Do you know how close I was to chasing you down and telling you? Right then and there? Jesus fucking Christ, you probably would’ve stabbed me and I would’ve deserved it for dumping all that at your feet right before you had to leave for however long your old man told you to. So, I didn’t. 

But I watched you walk into that airport, and I waited to see if you would turn around, even once, just to look at me one more time. I told myself that if you looked back at me, then maybe you were in love with me, too, and I would fucking disregard your stupid, bitchy “don’t call, don’t text, don’t visit” garbage. But you didn’t. 

You just disappeared into the airport and I had to continue on with my life as if I didn’t just fucking let one of the brightest parts walk out of it.

God, Dom, in your stupid beautiful shitty letter you said you wouldn’t change this, and that’s real big of you I guess. I’m a selfish man, though, and if I could, I would fucking rewrite it all so we weren’t doing this. You in a fucking crematorium and me more than half a bottle of whiskey into a letter to my dead fucking soulmate a dead man. We’d have a goddamn happy ending that neither of us probably deserve because I don’t want to do this without you.

And ultimately, I would rewrite all of this so that I actually told you how you made me feel. I would rewrite things so I chased after you at the airport and told you I love you, even if you would’ve stabbed me for it. I would rewrite all of this so I told you I love you all those fucking months ago when we laughed together on the sidewalk outside your apartment and then you kissed me and dragged me back inside. Yeah, I remember that, too. It was an amazing night.

I don’t know how to end this, because if I do it’s over. I’ll finally have the last word and I don’t want it. I want you to fucking be here to scoff at me, to critique my writing, to call it cliche and boring and boorish and shit. I want this to be something I’m going to put in the mail for you to open it and read it and get your fucking smell all over it because you’re fucking alive. I have your fucking cologne but it smells all wrong because it’s missing YOU, and it makes me want to die every time I open that stupid bottle. But I do it anyway because it’s the closest I’ll ever get to kissing you again.

I need to finish this, so I’ll just bite the fucking bullet and do it. I can’t write this forever because we’re having your stupid interment in a couple days before Vinny, Kez, and the baby go away. It’s a small thing, don’t worry, just a handful of us. The big one that’ll piss you off is going to happen after we deal with the shitstain that got you.

I love you, Dom, and I hate myself everyday for not telling you. It is one of my biggest fucking regrets in my life. Every single day I spent kissing you and not telling you what it meant to me will fucking haunt me forever. What could we have been if I wasn’t a fucking coward? Would the ring you gave me mean what I wish it did? And I am a coward, more than you were, okay? I knew I was in love with you for eleven fucking years and I didn’t say shit about it.

Anway, save me a spot in whatever toasty spot of Hell you’ve probably taken over. I’ll see you when I get there, Sweetheart. Forgive me for hoping it’s sooner rather than later. I told you I’m a selfish man.

Your darling,

Sam

Approaching the tub, Keziah sits down on the edge of it and wets the washcloth before gently wiping it over his chest and up his throat.

“I can take care of myself, Keziah,” Vinny offers as zir face pinches strangely at the horrific scar from his surgery, as it always does when ze looks at him now. “You don’t—”

“Let me do this, Vin,” Keziah snaps, and Vinny immediately shuts his mouth with a click. As if realizing zir tone was a bit harsh in the afterglow, ze adds, “Please.”

If it was any other time, Vinny might laugh, tease Keziah for the manners, ask who house-trained zir in his absence, but the moment was too tenuous. Too fragile. He doesn’t want zir to get up and leave, not when they had been fighting, even while they’d been fucking.

So, he just nods and leans back, letting zir clean up his throat and face, watching zir with hooded eyes and what was likely far too much naked affection.

“It’s not more important than us,” Vinny says after a few moments, and Keziah tenses, not even looking at his face as ze waits for him to continue. “The Organization, I mean, and that fucking terrifies me, Keziah.”

“Careful, Vincenzo,” ze warns, as ze always does when Vinny is being too honest, even with zir.

“Fuck ‘careful.’ It— I was raised to put the needs of the Family above all else, that the empire my grandfather started was the priority. It should be my priority, but it’s not,” Vinny insists, and when Keziah goes to pull away, he grabs zir wrist. “Can I say my piece, Keziah? Please?”

The ‘please’ stops Keziah, just as zir’s stopped him and ze meets his gaze finally. With a slow exhalation, Keziah just nods once and motions for him to continue.

“I know the only reason I even have the privilege of being annoyed that you put everything at risk to save me is because you saved me. You did that, Keziah. You saved my life,” Vinny says, lifting a hand to cup Keziah’s cheek gently. “And if I sound ungrateful, it’s because I’m supposed to care about the Organization, this fucking empire I’ve been saddled with, and I don’t because I care about you. I love you so fucking much that even considering a future without you in it is so fucking unbearable, I don’t— I can’t do it.”

“So, I ask you again, you think I’m better off living that hell?” Keziah asks harshly, but ze doesn’t pull away this time, doesn’t reach out with a grip that hurts, keeps zir claws tucked away.

“No, Keziah. I didn’t step in front of that bullet because I thought it was going to kill me, I didn’t even think about what would happen to me. I saw the gun, saw it aimed at you, and I couldn’t let them shoot you,” Vinny says, staring up at Keziah. “I practically shouted to everyone who was there just how fucking under my skin you are, how stupid I get when you’re near me, that I would risk everything for you, even my own fucking life, and I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

Now, Keziah was watching him intensely, zir breathing slowly as ze works to keep zir expression blank. Trying not to show too much, even to Vinny, even now. Especially now.

“I killed everyone else in that room just for that reason,” Keziah says darkly, and a soft part of Vinny that still persisted after all of these years ached at that.

“You mean everything to me, Keziah. None of this,” he says, motioning around them at the opulent bathroom, “means anything without you. The thing I would become without you… that scares me the most.”

“I can’t lose you either, Vincenzo,” Keziah says, and zir voice is uncharacteristically shaky as ze tilts zir cheek into Vinny’s palm. “You keep talking about what you would become, as if I wouldn’t be a fucking husk without you, going through the motions, running your family business when I’m not even a proper heir, I’d be a beneficiary at best. You don’t even have a proper heir— that’s beside the point. Stop assuming I’m stronger than you just because I’m better at hiding my hand.”

“You’re right, as always, just… it wasn’t about dying in your place, sweetheart,” Vinny insists, and Keziah’s eyes close with a shuddering sigh. “All I could think was ‘anyone but Keziah,’ even at the risk of destroying everything.”

There was a long pause, Keziah just sitting with zir eyes closed, breathing slowly and measured. Suddenly, Keziah stands up and shrugs off zir robe so ze can step into the tube, sinking into the water to straddle Vinny’s lap. Tucking zir face into his throat, ze sighs as Vinny wrapped his arms around zir body.

“You scared me, Vin,” Keziah confesses quietly, and that jolts something in Vinny’s heart. Of all the things he was sure Keziah had been feeling up to that point, fear was never on that list. If Vinny was honest, he didn’t even think Keziah could feel fear about anything.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Vinny whispers, kissing zir forehead sweetly. After a few moments, he says, “We could always fix that, what you said about me not having a proper heir.”

Keziah lifts zir head to glare at him. “You did not just ask me to have your children like that,” ze says threateningly, and Vinny’s eyebrows shoot high on his forehead.

“I meant I could write you into my will as my heir explicitly,” Vinny replies, a little breathless at the prospect of actually fathering an heir with Keziah. He could feel himself getting hard again at the mere thought of creating something with his perfect, strong Keziah, something that was theirs, not just maintaining something that was given to them. “How would you like me to ask you to have my babies?”

Keziah blinks at him, searching his face. “You’ll be insufferable when I’m pregnant, won’t you?”

“Am I not already?” He challenges lightly, and Keziah snorts. “Would you have a child with me? If I actually asked?”

Keziah considers the question, and for a moment it looks like ze might close back off. But eventually, ze sighs and leans in for a kiss. “You know I would do anything for you, Vin,” ze confesses softly against his lips.

“Do you want that?” Vinny presses, even as he tries to deepen the kiss, sliding both hands up Keziah’s strong back and feeling the map of zir scars with his calloused fingertips.

“Ask me again tomorrow when I don’t have your cock distracting me,” Keziah replies against his tongue, getting a hand between them to wrap it around Vinny’s cock. “Right now, we have weeks of catching up to do.”

Wrapping his arms around Keziah’s waist, Vinny mouths his way along zir jaw to nibble at zir earlobe. “I’ll hold you to that,” he growls low in zir ear, sighing as Keziah slides zir cunt back onto his cock…

Sam wasn’t sure when they laid down, but soon enough he was on his back, watching the stars with Dom. They were laying in such a way that their heads were next to each other, but their bodies were stretched out in opposite directions; whenever they turned their heads to face each other, it almost looked like Dom was upside-down. One time when they looked at each other, Sam couldn’t help the little laugh that left his throat, and the way Dom grinned before covering his mouth and looking back up at the stars again had the void in Sam’s chest aching.

“Fuck, it’s beautiful,” Dom sighed, gesturing at the sky with his chin.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed easily without looking away from Dom’s profile, tearing his gaze away just before the other man glanced at him again. Before he could think better of it, Sam said, “I wish I'd met you under different circumstances, Dominik.”

Next to him, the man went very still. It wasn’t like he moved a lot, especially when they were quiet like this, but there was still a very noticeable lack of movement now.

“Why?” Dom’s voice was quiet, patient in the way beautiful, deadly creatures of the sea were. One misstep in the conversation that followed would have Dom storming off to his quarters and unlikely to speak to Sam like this again for weeks.

Lifting a hand to his chest, Sam stroked the tip of his forefinger up and down the jagged, messy scar that was there, exposed to the night air with the open neckline of his shirt.

“I want to kiss you, but it feels wrong to want that since you hate being here,” he admitted, clenching his jaw as he squinted up at the stars. “It feels cruel to even admit it to you now.”

If Sam had thought Dom was still before, he now knew he was mistaken. Sam wasn’t even sure if Dom was still next to him, that the man hadn’t turned to mist and disappeared completely.

“What circumstances would you have preferred meeting me under?” Dom asked after a few long moments and Sam couldn’t tell if he wanted to sigh with relief or grimace.

“I wish I had met you a century ago, before I became this,” he admitted, too quickly to play it off like he hadn’t thought about it a thousand times. Then, a bit quieter, he added, “or after you actually died, while I was ferrying your soul through the Locker. You could’ve asked to join my crew, to be here.”

His words were met with more quiet and stillness from Dom, and Sam let out a tired, sad sigh.

“I should have declined your captain’s deal, Dominik. Ignored their summons. I have rules and I broke them,” Sam continued when Dom didn’t ask another question. “Now you’re miserable, separated from everyone you love— your partner, your captain, your family— and I have the audacity to desire you as if I haven’t taken enough from you.”

There was another beat of silence, long enough that Sam started moving to get up. In a flurry of movement that was too fast for Sam to see and almost too graceful to be fully human, Dom spun around and was on top of him, pressing his mouth desperately against Sam’s.

Sam didn’t waste a single moment to hesitation, immediately tangling a hand in the hair at the back of Dom’s head. His mouth opened under Dom’s questing tongue as his other arm wrapped around his waist. Sam wasn’t sure how long that first kiss lasted, but when they pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their mouths red and wet.

It couldn’t be helped, the pang of hopeful sadness that thrummed deep in the empty void of Sam’s chest as he stared up at the beautiful man on top of him. 

Dom’s expression twisted subtly, as if he was about to say something sharp, but when he opened his mouth, he said, “I hate this less because of you. It’s… better because of you.”

Before Sam could properly process those words, Dom was kissing him again and he couldn’t help but meet the ferocity in kind.

When he felt his body begin to stir below the belt, Sam didn’t even pull away from the kiss to ask, “How far are we taking this, sweetheart?”

Dom shuddered. “Don’t have to go further than your bed, but I can take you right here if you want,” he responded, words muffled against Sam’s lips as he began to grind their hips together.

With a bright laugh, Sam began tugging at Dom’s clothes insistently. “Have to get this out of the way then,” he hummed before wrapping both hands around Dom’s hips to hold him in place while he rocked his hardening cock up against him.

Dom’s response was immediate; a sharp gasp as he sat up straight, head thrown back as he rode out the sensation of their dicks pressed together through their layers of clothing. With another soft sound, Dom’s hands reached down to start pulling at the ties of Sam’s pants, getting them open so he could get his smallclothes out of the way as well. When Dom’s hand closed around the shaft of his cock, he gasped and looked down at Sam hungrily.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dom all but whimpered, squeezing Sam before slowly stroking him.

Smirking, Sam rumbled out a low, “Flatterer.”

Impatient now that he had Dom’s hand on him, Sam managed to rip the seams of the man’s pants and smallclothes open. With clothes out of the way, Sam returned his hands to Dom’s hips and dragged him down against him, rocking the length of his cock up and down the seam of Dom’s dripping cunt.

He wanted to see what sort of noises he could drag out of Dom just like that, but soon the teasing pleasure became too much for even Sam to bear. Tightening his grip on Dom’s hips, Sam rocked him back while he ground his cock up against his dick. Then, as he pulled Dom’s hips forward again, the head of Sam’s cock passed over the dripping opening of his cunt. Timing his next thrust while guiding Dom’s hips back again, Sam sunk inside the man’s wet cunt until he bottomed out.

“Fuck!” Dom shouted happily, rapturously even, before he slapped a hand over his mouth. His other hand was braced on Sam’s chest now, his nails digging into the skin around the scar.

Without pulling out, Sam rolled them until he was looming over Dom, giving him a few brutal thrusts before dragging the man’s hand away from his own mouth.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Sam ordered in a low growl, nosing at the underside of Dom’s jaw as he got his thumbs hooked under the man’s knees and slowly folded him in half beneath him. “Let the whole Locker hear you.”

After that, everything went a bit fuzzy as he fucked Dom right there on the deck of his ship. From that point on, Dom was plenty vocal, moaning and whining under Sam, clinging to him and screaming his praises for Sam’s cock. Sam was desperate to keep him at that high, to drag Dom through as many orgasms as he could manage before letting himself come apart completely.

By Sam’s count, he managed to fuck Dom through two releases before he finally let himself go, pumping Dom’s perfect cunt full of his cum. He shivered at the way Dom sobbed out, “Jones!”

A large part of Sam wished, not for the first time, that Dom knew his actual name.

Pulling out before the aftershocks of his own release were fully over, Sam crawled down Dom’s body and pressed his tongue inside the man’s sloppy cunt, moaning at the taste of them together there. With single-minded purpose, Sam ate his own cum out of Dom, and when he was done with that, he took Dom’s pretty little dick between his lips. Sam worked him until he came with a shattered scream that was guaranteed to wake up half the crew.

A few minutes later, Sam was catching his breath, cheek resting on a shivering, pale thigh while Dom played with his hair. The position wasn’t particularly comfy on the ground, but Sam was content to stay put for as long as Dom wanted.

“Why didn’t you keep to your rules?” Dom asked after a few beats of quiet, and Sam looked up the line of Dom’s body. The man was watching him, frowning slightly despite the blissed-out expression he was still somehow wearing. “When Kez summoned you?”

Sam let out a slow breath and kissed Dom’s thigh. “It was clear how much that entire crew cared about you. I haven’t seen a crew so united around a single person outside my own, so I was intrigued. Moved, you could say, even. I wanted to know what sort of person rallied such loyalty,” he said after some thought before smirking. “Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be a massive cunt.”

There was a deeply sad twist to Dom’s expression that brought back Sam’s regret full force all over again. The guilt was even worse with the sweat of their coupling still cooling on their skin. At Sam’s jab, Dom visibly stifled his sadness under a laugh, kicking at Sam ineffectually and saying, “You asshole!”

Kissing Dom’s thigh one last time, Sam crawled back up the length of the man’s body until he could cup his cheek and meet his eyes properly. “I’m not necessarily sorry that you’re here, but I am sorry that you’re trapped. If I had the power to free you, I would. If you believe only one thing I say, please believe that.”

Dom squirmed under Sam’s intensity and nodded. “I believe you,” he said after a moment, and he looked almost like he was surprised that he meant it. Then he asked, “Would I be able to visit them at least?”

Sam considered that for a moment; it was risky letting the Dutchman be seen too often, especially near other ships. That was how inconvenient legends started to resurface. It would be safer to do it on the open sea, to locate Dom’s crew and let him off the ship for a couple days. They wouldn’t be able to leave with Dom in tow because his life was tied to the Dutchman, so there was no real worry of them running off.

But that just reaffirmed all of Sam’s guilt. Meeting on the water felt like he was just extending the boundaries of Dom’s prison without allowing him any real freedom. He wasn’t getting away from Sam, and there was always that chance that Sam might be spying or could appear out of thin air. Dom’s real crew would never relax.

The sea was Sam’s domain.

“Pick a port, pick a date, and send a letter to your crew. I’ll make sure you’re there to meet them,” Sam said, his tone firm with his decision, ignoring the way that Dom’s eyes widened. “We can test how long you can be off the ship before you start fading.”

“You can’t make port! That’s too dangerous,” Dom insisted, and Sam’s chest ached where his heart should be.

“The closest to freedom I can give you is arranging to meet your crew on land, Dominik. I cannot follow you, so you will be completely alone with them,” Sam explained softly, stroking a knuckle across Dom’s cheekbone. “You can spend as much time with them as the curse allows.”

Dom stared up at Sam, frowning at him as he thought. Eventually, though, his expression softened, and he pulled Sam into a slow, almost sweet kiss.

“Thank you, Jones,” Dom whispered against Sam’s lips, and that soft gratitude broke down what was left of Sam’s resolve.

“Sam,” he whispered between their mouths. “My name— before I was Davy Jones, my name was Sam.”

Dom pulled away and stared up at him, almost alarmed. “You give too much away, Captain.”

At that, Sam just laughed and shrugged. “I’ve told you already that I’m tired, that I’m not concerned about my secrets coming to light, even if that means I finally get my turn to be ferried across the Locker,” he said almost flippantly.

Dom frowned and shook his head a bit. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he eventually said, pulling Sam back into a slow kiss before adding, “but thank you. It’s— fuck, just, thank you, Captain.”

There was a pang in Sam’s chest again at Dom’s subtle refusal to use his actual name, but at least he didn’t use Jones. Sam wouldn’t push him on it, he decided. 

Letting it go, Sam pulled Dom into another kiss and whispered, “Of course, Dominik.”

“Ms. D’Amore.”

Kez blinked and released zir hold on the footboard of the bed, shaking out zir hands as ze turned to face the owner of the voice behind zir. Ze was getting distracted, not even hearing someone coming into the room, and that was dangerous. This hospital wasn’t on enemy turf, but it wasn’t on Vincenzo’s either; ze had to be alert.

Luckily, it was only Tig, one of Vincenzo’s boys, his most trusted bodyguard and enforcer.

“You were saying something?” Kez asked after a few long moments, and Tig’s face changed. It was a sympathetic expression, and Kez had the very uncharitable urge to smack him for it.

“There was a situation earlier, down at Yoyo’s club. Carver’s people showed up and had to be dealt with,” Tig repeated, and Kez’s hackles raised. Fucking vultures, already circling. Or maybe the more accurate comparison would be sharks, scenting blood in the water.

“How serious was it?” ze asked, turning zir gaze back to Vincenzo on the bed.

“They were put down. Expeditiously,” Tig replied, and Kez nodded.

“How many civilian witnesses?” ze asked next, dreading this answer most. Civilian witnesses usually meant the cops would come sniffing around and would need to be bribed. Ze hated dealing with cops.

“None,” Tig replied, and when Kez shot a look over zir shoulder, he raised his hands defensively. “It happened in Yoyo’s office. Winters was with her, they just needed help with clean-up.”

Kez took a deep breath through zir nose and let it out slowly, nodding once. “Go to the club. Both of us being seen here will only make them bolder.”

Tig didn’t move. “I shouldn’t leave you here alone,” he eventually said, and anger rose hot and bitter in Kez’s throat.

“You will do as you’re fucking ordered, Faulkner,” Kez bit out, wringing zir hands around the foot board of the bed again.

“Boss wouldn’t like—”

“If Vincenzo wanted me to give a shit about what he would’ve liked, he wouldn’t have gotten himself shot,” Kez all but snarled, whirling on Tig and crowding him against the door. “Now, let’s try this again, shall we? Go. To the club. Now.”

Tig stared down at zir, expression closed off and tense before he nodded once. “On it, Boss.”

With that, he slipped out the door and left Kez in the room alone with zir husband.

Returning to the bed, ze stood at the side of it and stared down at Vincenzo. He looked wrong, almost small against the stark sheets, his hair an uncharacteristic mess and the hospital gown the wrong shade of blue for his complexion. He was alive, but barely, and it was terrifying staring down that possibility.

“You hear that, Vincenzo? They’re already coming for everything you built,” Kez bit out, low and quiet as the veil of numbness briefly parted, just long enough to feel the ache of zir heart shattering, and tears sprung to zir eyes.

“I love you.” “I wish you didn’t.”

It was the last thing they said to each other before Vincenzo lost consciousness, succumbing to the blood-loss. How could that man be choking on his own blood and still manage to tell Kez he loved zir? It was insane, something out of the terrible romantic dramas Vincenzo pretended he didn’t watch. And yet he did it, and Kez didn’t respond in kind, and now he might never wake back up.

“You need to wake up, Vincenzo,” Kez continued, trying to keep zir voice even as ze slipped zir hand into Vincenzo’s. “It’s all going to fall apart.”

That wasn’t true, necessarily. Or more, that wasn’t the real reason behind that grasping, clawing thing inside zir. Kez didn’t give a shit about the Organization, the Family.

Ze cared about Vincenzo. Ze cared about them, and the thought of them becoming just Kez made it feel like ze was being skinned alive.

Before ze could stop zirself, Kez crawled up onto the bed and curled around Vincenzo, pressing a wobbly kiss to his shoulder.

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you, Vin,” Kez whispered against his shoulder, finally letting a few tears escape as ze tangled their fingers together in zir lap. “I need you, Vin. Please, wake up.”