#study. jack.

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅, 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 & 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑, even without charles there to bear witness. one hand grasped the sleek black cell to their ear, whilst the other toyed with a curl of hair and wound it idly 'round their finger. ❛ and do all the work myself? darling, who do you take me for? ❜ practically purred into the receiver as he flopped down upon the luxurious velvet chaise by the penthouse window. they draped across it, long and languid, the very picture of a fainting victorian woman captured on canvas.

❛ listen, i know you're busy fucking flint through his midlife crisis. well done, et cetera, ❜ they drawled with the sort of petulance a child might harbour upon being told no one too many times. ❛ but i ❜ i miss you. the words almost leapt from his tongue of their own volition, so eager for charles to know the truth of them. to know that his absence was not lost on the god of love. indeed, it was felt so keenly that jack lied awake at night, gnawed apart by the unknown. by the idea that charles might forsake him for all eternity.

the line was silent a moment as they worried their bottom lip betwixt their teeth and rerouted. ❛ i have all these leftovers from that thai place down the street, you know the one. ❜ of course he would. they'd had a date there when the place first opened, run by a sweet couple, elderly by now. jack had left a rather staggering tip : always keen to support a struggling mortal couple, down on their luck. ❛ we're still friends, yes? come over, chaz. have some food, watch a movie with me, tell me about your day. honestly, it's not that complicated. ❜

𝐆𝐎𝐃, 𝐈𝐅 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. the veritable cherry atop the heap of shit that was his week. perhaps there was some poetic justice or irony to the situation which would prompt a smirk, days from now, when they were long since removed from it. but here and now ? he was well and truly FOCUSED on his captain's stare, and his own, immovable limbs.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃. 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐖𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐄'𝐃 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓. hung and likely jeered at by the same men who had sworn oaths alongside him to protect the same things. to abide by the same principles. principles so easily abandoned, allies so eagerly betrayed when it suited them. jack hated them all. he would see every last one of those men answer for their crimes in the same fashion. then and only then would he turn his attention to her.

the woman who had taken everything from charles. the woman who had taken everything from himself in turn. the pardon, the chest of pearls, the whole fucking island : they would trade it all for the return of charles vane. but alas, money and favours could only buy so much. some things stretched beyond the bounds of currency, or a witty tongue. but very little lay beyond the bounds of violence. oh, they would unleash such TERRIBLE VIOLENCE upon her. upon that whole book of traitors. upon woodes rogers and the navy and england herself. they would feel his loss, and they would know loss too.

charles vane was dead. and his ghost was standing before him.

jack stood frozen. unblinking, unmoving, simply staring into the face of the man they loved, and wondering when it would fade away. when grief's morbid hallucination would leave him in peace. the bruises at charles' neck, a deep hue of purples and blues from the noose's grip. god, how he wished to press gentle kisses against them. to watch them HEAL to brown, to yellow, to fade entirely and be lost with time. time that they could spend together. months, years, a lifetime.

they had seen their brother's ship on the horizon no, his brother's lover. blackbeard. had seen his ship, had watched it approach and been prepared for the conversations that would surely await. the pity, the sorrow, the condolences. what he had not been prepared for was charles standing upon her deck as they dropped anchor alongside one another. for only a gangway to separate them from what they had lost.

it couldn't be real. he simply couldn't believe it. if not for the news otherwise, if not for the unlikeliness of it ... then for the fact that to submit to hope and have it be dashed once again was too PAINFUL a notion. and still he walked. feet carried them forward across the gangway of their own volition and with no permission from himself. closing the distance, bringing him closer to that ghost. their eyes clouded ; drops of moisture fell from their jaw. when had he started crying?

he stopped just short of charles, of this spectre sent to torment them. eyes wide and wet, mouth agape. it couldn't be. it couldn't. ❛ i'm scared to touch you, chaz ... what if i reach out, and you disappear all over again? ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐇𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄. things were different now. he was a captain by his own right, no longer bound to the other's whims and fancies, but free to be who he pleased. free to make company with anyone they so desired ... and yet, here they stood once again, drawn into the enigma of charles vane like tides to the shoreline. unable to keep their distance.

the two of them had reached the doorway, swaying from drink but not CLOUDED by it. jack's room lay beyond, cold and empty without anne's once steadfast presence there to join him. no, they would be climbing into the sheets alone this evening. a needling voice in the back of their head reminded them : you were second fiddle to miss guthrie, and now precisely the same is true to max. who could ever choose you?

❛ come now, charles, don't be ridiculous. ❜ by some miracle, he kept his voice even. neutral. almost lilting, as if the thought didn't light a SPARK deep betwixt their ribs. something desperate churned within the pit of his gut. ❛ we're in a whore house, surely you can find some adoring young lass to fawn over you this evening. not at all sure what you'd need me for. ❜

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 & 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑. jack, of course, stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the shadows and wrought metal surfaces. they embodied music and light and love itself, their very skin aglow with golden shimmer that remained warm in hue despite the cold light which caught upon their frame. brown eyes stared down at ned through dark lashes, rimmed in gold as well to match.

❛ awake? goodness, darling, no ! ❜ the same laughter clung to their lips as they spun to sit upon edward's vacant throne with a flourish, graceful as ever. ❛ i lie sound asleep, naked, draped in fine silks and cashmeres, and they come to me in my dreams like prophecy. ❜ his voice was a veritable purr, cheshire grin spreading across his face and chiseling soft features sharp.

he twirled one loose lace at his neckline 'round a long index finger and settled into the throne as if it were his own. their every movement was languid, cat-like, as they crossed one leg delicately over the other. freshly manicured nails drummed against the obsidian arm in idle thought. ❛ i'm truly sorry, by the way, for the precious little i imagine it's worth ... in regards to your dearest queen's capture, that is. ❜ there was something novel to their tone, so often a teasing lilt or self righteous needling. instead, it seemed thoughtful now. a softness bled in through the edges.

𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐏, 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄. rumpling the stark white and silken toga which clung to them, barely covering the smooth expanse of skin so very on display. it was secured with a golden linden leaf at one shoulder, flowing material drooped down his chest, leaving most open. he was otherwise bedecked in gold and jewels about his neck and wrists, many rings from many suitors adorned their fingers. they raised one such hand to brush back dark hair from their brow.

❛ really, charles, there's no need for that. i'm not going anywhere. ❜ they both knew that was a falsehood. perhaps not today, nor tomorrow. perhaps not even for weeks now, if their business in OLYMPUS continued. but he would leave eventually, as he always did ; gone come morning, for their greatest love to awaken in an empty bed.

a long, lithe arm wound its way around charles' shoulders in answer, his taller frame leaned flush against the other's side. practically draped off of him like a fine material. oh, how well they suited one another. free hand rose to toy with a stray braid in their lover's hair, woven that very morning by their own deft hands. ❛ darling, we really must talk. you know i came here for business, as opposed to pleasure though i am rather keen on mixing the two. ❜ head dipped to press a sweet kiss at the apple of charles' cheek, and their mouth lingered against the shell of his ear in conspiracy. ❛ what news is it you've heard from our dearest king, hm? little birds tell me there's trouble in paradise ... war brewing. ❜

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘. yes, that's what jack was doing. what he absolutely, positively, was not doing, was brooding. they certainly weren't leaned back in their chair at a corner table of miss guthrie's, white knuckled grip upon a mug of ale, harbouring resentment. no, no. resentment required feeling, and feeling required for there to have been more between he and charles than a working agreement and a few good fucks ( when charles was bored. when jack was too exhausted from holding in all that want ).

another day, in proper form, he'd have had a keen enough eye to puzzle out the situation at hand. understand its NUANCE and smirk, knowing, at the way things were shaping up. but they weren't in proper form, and neither was their relationship with charles. and so, the breadth of his focus narrowed to his captain's hands upon the cook. on their shared chuckles and breathy whispers. things that were once offered to jack, when he'd been good enough, smart enough. enough.

long fingers tapped, incessant, against the tabletop, his thigh, the mug. knee jigged up and down restlessly as their gaze flit to and fro, but was ever drawn back to charles. sucked into his goddamn whirlpool and swallowed whole. never had jack been so glad to see flint, tugging that other man from charles' lap and leaving him be. they shifted, twitched, bade themself to remain. don't go crawling back to kneel at his feet and BEG for scraps, for god's sake jack. ah. they were up before they'd even finished thinking it. ducked and weaved through the crowd 'til long strides brought him to the table in question.

❛ found yourself a replacement for me so soon, have you? well, considering how much trouble he's caused flint, i'd be wary if i were you. ❜ his tone was pitched higher even than normal, and needling. tongue swept 'cross their lips, swallowing. oh, he felt rather pathetically stripped bare, despite all their layers. ❛ really, chaz in the time it'd take him to puzzle you out, i'd've gotten you off ten score. ❜

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒, 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓. brown eyes rolled skyward and back 'round to level upon charles, but only for a moment as they flit elsewhere. seemingly determined to land anywhere but the man before him. ❛ i'm not lying, charles. don't be absurd. ❜ it was spoken with a gesture : a loose wrist and a waving hand to brush away such accusations. ❛ i'm bending the truth to achieve a more favourable outcome for us all. you're quite welcome, by the way. ❜

they could feel charles' stare boring a hole into them, even from their periphery. lips parted as if to speak, then closed again. this happened once or twice more as jack fiddled with the frilled, billowing hem of his shirt sleeve. at last, he huffed a sigh and grasped the other's shoulder, leading him away from the courtyard. they passed through the fort itself, through doorways and down its winding hallways, to the treasury. where FIVE MILLION in spanish gold sat.

or, did. about half of it remained, but so enormous did that wealth still appear that most men would hardly see the difference. still more gold than any could ever have dreamt of laying eyes upon.

❛ this was not a betrayal. ❜ jack looked fraught with grief. they released charles' shoulder and sunk down to sit upon a chest, head hung. a hand rose to remove his hat and scrub through mussed hair. ❛ we secreted away a portion of it ... max, anne and i. exchanged it for pearls. easier to move and protect, yes? not to hide or to keep from anyone, but to ENSURE it wasn't all lost to us. misused, before we've even made any progess. ❜