AVERT YER EYES

So he leaned into her neck, licked up the side of her throat and then bit at her pulse point, hard and deliberate. He gripped her hip, thrusting into her a little harder and faster for a few moments until--

The second bite did her in, and she held onto him as she arched against him in turn, a gentle cry escaping her as she held the back of his head, keeping him near. Inhaling deeply, she pressed her cheek against his head, then exhaled a sigh.

Reaching over, she found the half a coconut she'd offered him before, the one he'd drank the water from, but not eaten, and she handed it to him.

That had been... different. And really fucking nice.

Still, he didn't move away. He was close enough to press against her side, his cheek brushing against her shoulder as she handed him the coconut half. For once, he didn't argue. Yeah. He did need his strength. Because he didn't want to die. Maybe he would anyway. Maybe it was a lost cause. But he had to try.

So he leaned into her neck, licked up the side of her throat and then bit at her pulse point, hard and deliberate. He gripped her hip, thrusting into her a little harder and faster for a few moments until--

He didn't ask. That would be asking for trouble.

Still, there was no denying how nicely her body fit against his when they moved together like this. For once, it wasn't like a competition or a fight. It was just... them. Together. Not wanting to die, and not wanting the other to die, and faced with the impossible task of trying to escape tomorrow.

And then, her father had promised her to Admiral Longshaw, and she'd run, and sworn to never marry, unless it was someone she actually cared about.

He didn't ask. That would be asking for trouble.

She leaned her forehead against his. His mouth went dry. He opened his eyes and met her gaze, no quip or smart comment or teasing insult springing to mind. She'd been so afraid the past... however long it had been. But she'd born it well, worked hard, come up with smart ideas, put him in his place every day... Truly, he was lucky to have been stranded with Captain Rapunzel Solaris of all people, and he knew it. Even without the Sun's Tear.

Still, there was no denying how nicely her body fit against his when they moved together like this. For once, it wasn't like a competition or a fight. It was just... them. Together. Not wanting to die, and not wanting the other to die, and faced with the impossible task of trying to escape tomorrow.

And here he was in the arms of his long-time rival and now, fuck it, his best friend, and she was playing with his hair. Like he mattered.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And then, he was pressing directly against her opening and she inhaled sharply through her nose and exhaled another moan, fingers gripping him a little tighter, but not painfully so. God, she couldn't bear the thought of calling him more pain right now. He didn't need anymore.

She leaned her forehead against his. His mouth went dry. He opened his eyes and met her gaze, no quip or smart comment or teasing insult springing to mind. She'd been so afraid the past... however long it had been. But she'd born it well, worked hard, come up with smart ideas, put him in his place every day... Truly, he was lucky to have been stranded with Captain Rapunzel Solaris of all people, and he knew it. Even without the Sun's Tear.

Fuck, it was a good thing they were going to dismantle this shelter tomorrow, because it'd screw with his head every time he set foot in it after this.

He hadn't expected her to go back to stroking him once she'd rid herself of her trousers and his breath caught; he kissed her harder, pressing a palm against her cheek, their lips crushing together. God help him, he didn't want to die.

This was so different, and while that was exciting, it was also... scary. She understood being fond of someone, but she didn't understand being fond of them and attracted to them. And she didn't understand him being so gentle with her. This was nothing like their previous times, nothing at all.

And she really liked this.

She toyed with his hair, remembering what it had been like before they'd landed here, wild and free. Now, it was lanky and limp. She must look as unkempt, but she found herself not minding. He'd been present for every moment of degradation, and wanted her anyway.

And here he was in the arms of his long-time rival and now, fuck it, his best friend, and she was playing with his hair. Like he mattered.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I want you.

He shivered against her and pressed closer instinctively, his fingers pausing in their movements. She had never actually told him that before, not outright.

And then he was kissing her, and for this beautiful moment, everything was right with the world. There was no imminent danger, no fear, no Rogue's Landing. Just now. Just this.

She shuffled the rest of the way out of her trousers, leaving them hanging on one leg in her haste, and absolutely melted against him. As soon as her hands we free, she went back to stroking him, not wanting him to have to go without.

Fuck, it was a good thing they were going to dismantle this shelter tomorrow, because it'd screw with his head every time he set foot in it after this.

He hadn't expected her to go back to stroking him once she'd rid herself of her trousers and his breath caught; he kissed her harder, pressing a palm against her cheek, their lips crushing together. God help him, he didn't want to die.

Well. Now he'd do whatever he could to get her back to her crew, regardless of whether he'd given up on his own survival.

Her grip on him shifted to be a little tighter and she stroked faster; he bit his lip hard, still unable to break his gaze away from hers. He leaned into her palm as she cupped his cheek and his fingers went to work, stroking gently across her wetness not as a means to an end, but simply because he knew it felt good for her.

And then his face was against her once more. She held his head, her fingers flexing rhythmically in his hair, and moaned softly as he stroked her so wonderfully.

This was powerful. Their friendship, their bond... this sealed it in a way she could not imagine. She couldn't explain it, and she didn't want to. She just wanted to feel this way with him.

I want you.

He shivered against her and pressed closer instinctively, his fingers pausing in their movements. She had never actually told him that before, not outright.

It could be much worse.

She breathed out encouragement and he felt his cheeks heat at such a simple word of approval. Not 'fuck yes' growled out like a curse, not some kind of power struggle between them, no. Just 'yesss', because it felt good. He sighed out and did it again, then soothed the skin with his tongue before leaving a trail of kisses down to her shoulder. There, he broke away and looked up at her, meeting her eyes and immediately wishing he hadn't.

His own gaze was half-lidded with pleasure as she kept stroking him so exquisitely, but now he couldn't look away from her. She'd kept him alive, over and over again, and now this. She was trying to lift his spirits, to keep him from just giving up. He'd fought so hard for so long. He didn't know how much he had left in him. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to be a pirate any more. He just wanted somewhere safe to live. Fuck.

She didn't want him to die. She didn't want to be left alone.

He bit again, and she gasped and moaned at the sensation. Secondary to it was the sensation that, once again, her eyes might be wet with tears if she was hydrated enough to cry. She was scared and happy and this was beautiful and sad. Too much. All too much. But she couldn't bear to stop. She didn't want to. It felt like it was all she had, all they had.

He pulled back, and her eyes met his. Even in this wretched state, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. She didn't want this pain and fear for him. He deserved his freedom and comfort. The life away from piracy that he'd quietly confessed to her he wanted. She knew in that moment that if she could guarantee his security, she would.

His hips shifted, drawing her attention, and his encouragement got its desired result. She stroked a little faster, a little more firmly, but still not demanding or pressuring. Bringing him pleasure, not taking it from him. And this his hand wandered and her lips parted, jaw going slack, as his fingers found her core once more. She exhaled a moan, soft and pure, and cupped her free hand against his cheek.

Well. Now he'd do whatever he could to get her back to her crew, regardless of whether he'd given up on his own survival.

Her grip on him shifted to be a little tighter and she stroked faster; he bit his lip hard, still unable to break his gaze away from hers. He leaned into her palm as she cupped his cheek and his fingers went to work, stroking gently across her wetness not as a means to an end, but simply because he knew it felt good for her.

Fuck.

He wasn't hard yet but not entirely soft either, the grinding of their hips having woken him up somewhat. Fuck, but she wasted no time stroking his length with a hand slick with her saliva. He sighed out harshly against her neck, pressing closer, eyes closing. God, that felt so fucking good. They usually spent next to no time on this stage, skipping all the foreplay they could get away with and going straight to fucking.

She'd exposed herself to him in so many ways since they landed here: revealing herself as the custodian of the Sun's Tear, handing him her weapons, revealing her body to him, her tender heart... And now this. Perhaps he didn't want to care about her, but he did, and she repaid that care with more to car about. More fodder with which he could destroy her should he choose, because she trusted him with her life.

It could be much worse.

She breathed out encouragement and he felt his cheeks heat at such a simple word of approval. Not 'fuck yes' growled out like a curse, not some kind of power struggle between them, no. Just 'yesss', because it felt good. He sighed out and did it again, then soothed the skin with his tongue before leaving a trail of kisses down to her shoulder. There, he broke away and looked up at her, meeting her eyes and immediately wishing he hadn't.

His own gaze was half-lidded with pleasure as she kept stroking him so exquisitely, but now he couldn't look away from her. She'd kept him alive, over and over again, and now this. She was trying to lift his spirits, to keep him from just giving up. He'd fought so hard for so long. He didn't know how much he had left in him. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to be a pirate any more. He just wanted somewhere safe to live. Fuck.

He'd have to avoid her, after that, because things couldn't just go back to normal. How could they? He wouldn't be able to bring himself to hurt her, or maybe even her crew. Not after everything they'd been through here. So he'd have to take The Tempest further South to warmer waters and then they need not run into each other. They could try to forget.

Was there truly any chance of forgetting?

Normally, she would strip him bare, or mostly-bare. There was something so glorious about seeing his naked body. But night was falling, and they'd likely go to bed after this. Although they'd slept cuddled up together every night since the first, they'd also done so with clothes on, giving themselves and each other as many layers as they could, avoiding the cold through avoiding nudity.

Fuck.

He wasn't hard yet but not entirely soft either, the grinding of their hips having woken him up somewhat. Fuck, but she wasted no time stroking his length with a hand slick with her saliva. He sighed out harshly against her neck, pressing closer, eyes closing. God, that felt so fucking good. They usually spent next to no time on this stage, skipping all the foreplay they could get away with and going straight to fucking.

He took their plates from the coffee table, headed to the kitchen, and dumped them in the dishwasher. Then he downed a glass of water before filling up another and bringing it back out to Rapunzel. "Best water in Rio," he announced and held the glass out to her with a kind of flourish.

But she watched him go, admiring his figure as he did, even craning her neck to keep watching the movement of his muscles as he walked. He was so gorgeous, and she desperately wanted to draw him, live and in front of her, instead of from memory.

Usually, that sort of thing was reserved for family, wives, long-term girlfriends. Not best friends who you'd been on four dates with. Still, he liked the thought of her watching him while he worked so hard at training. While he thought, he settled on the sofa beside her, leaning back and getting comfortable once more.

He’d been lost to her for a long time, now, and he did not mind at all. Initially, he’d been afraid - he’d seen what the loss of his father had done to his mother, and he did not wish to invite that sort of attachment and pain onto himself. But surely the love and joy he felt with Rapunzel now was worth it?

Another deep inhale and exhale, and she murmured a soft, "Yes." A long pause, and then, "I love you, too," as her sleepy brain realized she had not said it yet.

He himself had already slept for a couple of hours tonight before she'd woken him and so, though he was worn out from their activities, sleep was slower to catch up to him. He lay there, drawing back ever so slightly so that he could look at her in the dim light. For once, his brain was quiet, nothing at all except thinking over and over again of how incredible she was.

Amazing, amazing, amazing. He stared at the ceiling in wonderment at his luck, then gazed back at her. Her long lashes rested against her cheeks, the little freckles still decipherable in the dark, the complete lack of tension on her face. Funny - when the Queen had announced Rapunzel the Sun of the Ton, he hadn't cared. He had barely noticed, too focused on his sisters. But then she'd crept into his life, through his mama and siblings. And then she'd found him in the stable, kept his deepest secret, and their lives had been interwoven ever since. He could never have imagined the turn his life would take.

He was the luckiest man in the world.

He dropped the cloth aside and gathered the blankets, drawing them over Rapunzel before snuggling beneath them himself. He shifted closer in her arms, sighing out long and low in satisfaction and comfort and contentment.

He’d been lost to her for a long time, now, and he did not mind at all. Initially, he’d been afraid - he’d seen what the loss of his father had done to his mother, and he did not wish to invite that sort of attachment and pain onto himself. But surely the love and joy he felt with Rapunzel now was worth it?

He made his way over to her basin, pouring water from the jug and dipping a wash cloth in. Once it was damp, he cleaned himself up, rinsed the cloth, then returned to her side. She was beautiful lying there on the tangle of bed sheets, skin flushed and dewy, eyes half-closed, a look of total satisfaction on her face.

He dropped the cloth aside and gathered the blankets, drawing them over Rapunzel before snuggling beneath them himself. He shifted closer in her arms, sighing out long and low in satisfaction and comfort and contentment.

He lay there against her, tucking his face into her neck, savouring her scent - their scent - and the gentle press of her chest against his as she breathed. And then she spoke, excitement and joy clear in her voice, and he could not help but grin, drawing back to look at her before turning his attention to the ring. It really did suit her nicely. The gem glistened in the lamplight the same way her eyes did, like sunlight shining through leaves.

"I will tire soon," she assured him. "I dare say, you will become accustomed to my habits, and I yours." She watched him stretch appreciatively, her fingers itching for her sketchbook once more, before a great yawn escaped her. "There, you see?" she giggled softly. But she blushed a bit at his apology. "It is alright, love. I do not mind. Though I will appreciate being cleaned. I must go to the apothecary, so that we need not worry so. I am certain they will have a means to prevent us from accidentally having a child."

He made his way over to her basin, pouring water from the jug and dipping a wash cloth in. Once it was damp, he cleaned himself up, rinsed the cloth, then returned to her side. She was beautiful lying there on the tangle of bed sheets, skin flushed and dewy, eyes half-closed, a look of total satisfaction on her face.