Word Count: 2,102
Lucius had never been one for subtlety. Anything he did, he did with confidence. Anything he said or did could not be used against him: he proudly owned up to anything. He had dignity and specific taste, but no embarrassment. While he might be disgusted at a rumor made about him, nothing said about him could make him ashamed. Once, Wee John had pulled him aside and said, "Buttons thinks you've slept with Izzy." To which Lucius scrunched his nose, and said, "If he wants to fantasize about me, that's fine, but Izzy is not my type." And when Wee John asked, "You have a type?" Lucius replied, "Yes. It consists of everyone but Izzy Hands and all other weasels and snakes."
So to say the least, Lucius was a straightforward man. He was straightforward with people, and he wanted people to be straightforward with him. Secrets, affairs, quiet love, fleeting flirting- Lucius was not interested.
Pete knew this, and yet he was hemming and hawing about whether or not he should just ask. All day, he had kept eyes on Lucius, a rehearsed phrase in his head that never quite made it out loud. He approached Lucius several times in hopes that he would finally just say it, but he only ever managed to make small talk. Though he knew his best shot was to be straightforward, Pete was a social dancer. He tiptoed around what needed to be said, danced lines of clarity so as to be able to take back his words if his audience didn't react how he wanted them to.
He shook his hands and splashed water on his face. He was a pirate, dammit, asking for some clarification shouldn't be this difficult. He had never had this problem before.
"Pete?" Lucius asked, approaching him. Pete was leaning on the taffrail, watching the sun set on the day he had promised himself he would go through with his question.
"Yeah?" Pete replied, unable to turn around.
"Pete?" Lucius asked again, much closer now.
"I- oh," Pete said quietly, coming nose-to-nose with Lucius as soon as he turned around.
"Do I make you nervous?" Lucius asked, casually.
"No," Pete blurted. Lucius squinted, and looked as if he was trying not to smile.
"Yes," Pete admitted.
"Mmmmm. Riiiight. So here's what I'm not understanding...we've buggered. A lot. This may be a shocker coming from me, but I feel like that's fairly personal," Lucius said slowly, smiling now. He put his arms on the taffrail on either side of Pete, trapping him in.
"Right? So I feel like there's not a lot we can't tell each other, and yet...you've been both seeking and avoiding me all day. Why is that?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Pete shrugged.
"Pete, what do you think I'm doing with you?" Lucius asked.
"I think you're messing with me," Pete said truthfully, eyes darting away.
"Mmmhm, okay, so...let me know when that changes," Lucius said, and kissed Pete's cheek, "I'll be in my cabin, if you decide to find me later."
And then he left. Pete's face scrunched in confusion.
"How will I kiss when I get a wife?" The Swede asked mournfully, gently nursing the third tooth he had lost in the last week in his hands. He had been losing teeth biting into things lately. As of now, all it took was some soup.
"It's so sweet that he still thinks he's gonna find a wife," Roach sighed.
"Listen, if you're good enough at kissing, you don't need teeth," Frenchie shrugged.
"I wish that were true," Lucius grimaced.
"Oh, mate, I have got to know that story," Ed leaned over the table.
"It's not much of a story. A very old man said he'd buy me dinner if I kissed him, but we kissed, and then I lost my appetite, so it was kind of all for not," Lucius recalled.
"I bet it was nicer than kissin Pete," Frenchie teased.
"Very little is nicer than kissing Pete," Lucius looked at Pete and winked, and then went back to drinking his soup. Pete choked on his bread.
"Why did we dock?" Lucius asked, stepping out of his cabin and seeing Pete walk by.
"I thought you'd know. Cap'n wanted to see the traveling market that stopped here, so he's gonna go check that out. I'm going with him," Pete explained.
"Oh, alright. Now?" Lucius asked.
"Yeah," Pete replied, walking away.
"Okay. Make sure you don't forget anything," Lucius called after him.
"What could I possibly need to bring?" Pete turned around.
"I never said you needed to bring anything," Lucius folded his arms and leaned against his doorframe. Pete did not understand. Lucius beckoned Pete with the 'come here' finger motion. Pete stepped forward.
"What am I supposed to remember?" Pete asked.
"Oh, you stupid man," Lucius sighed. Pete may have protested, if he had time. Lucius put a hand behind his head and kissed him. Pete was honestly a bit shocked. When Lucius pulled away, he smiled and patted Pete's shoulder.
"Have fun," Lucius said, and turned Pete back around, and pushed him on his way.
When Pete went to the market with Stede, he looked everywhere for a suitable gift for Lucius. There was no occasion, but Pete was beginning to get the feeling he might have a chance. Sure, to an outsider, it would seem like Lucius was being horribly obvious, but anyone that knew him knew better. Lucius played games with people. He was the kind of person that could drink half the cup of tea before deciding he didn't like it: metaphorically dipping his feet in just once was never enough. He'd sleep with someone a few times, maybe go on a couple dates, and then decide if he truly liked the person or not. Knowing this, Pete was wiser than to think sex and kisses meant anything to Lucius, as much as he hoped it did.
So if the usual tactics didn't work, Pete decided he'd just have to court Lucius full-on, gifts and everything. Unfortunately, though, nothing seemed to be right. Pete didn't see anything he thought Lucius would like or want. When looking at the clothes, Pete could hear Lucius in his head insulting every last item in great detail.
He came back empty-handed, but decided to take the initiative and kiss Lucius as a greeting when he got back on the ship. Lucius, ever expressive, seemed to like that.
"Poor Lucius dun got his finger bit," Buttons lamented.
"You were the one that bit it," Pete pointed out.
"Aye," Buttons nodded, like it had no relevance to his original point.
"So then why are you bringing it up?" Pete asked.
"They're startin ta say it's gettin time to cut it off," Buttons said gravely, and pursed his lips.
"What? But then- how will- he won't be able to draw or write or anything, and that's, like, his whole job," Pete argued.
"Aye. Perhaps we'll just have tae eat him," Buttons said, and did a swift 180, walking away.
"Dude, what is your problem?" Pete called after him, but he got no response.
Pete tried to ask Lucius about the whole ordeal, seeing as it was his finger and all, but the man was clearly not comprehending any of it. Lucius was laid down in a cot, finger swollen far beyond a normal infection, loopy. He was not speaking nor moving normally, and this worried Pete a great deal. Lucius, the most competent person on the boat, could not say a complete sentence.
"What are we gonna do?" Pete asked to nobody in particular. There were a few other people visiting Lucius, as well.
"I still say meat is meat," Roach shrugged.
"I don't really want to agree, but it seems like the only thing to do by now," Wee John frowned.
"Will he be kicked off the boat? His whole job revolves around him being able to hold a pen," Pete asked worriedly. He stroked Lucius' hair without knowing he was doing it.
"I don't think so. Captain likes him a lot, other captain seems to think he's alright, they could just as well find something else for him to do," Wee John said, ever the comforter.
"I guess," Pete mumbled, and took Lucius' good hand in his own. He pressed their palms together, looking at the differences in the shapes and sizes of their hands. Pete had rough worker hands with calluses on all fingers. Lucius had soft, well taken care of hands with a callus toward the top of his middle finger from constantly holding a writing utensil.
Getting an idea, Pete took careful mental measure of Lucius' hand compared to his. He left suddenly with a kiss to Lucius' forehead, going straight to his personal belongings bag near where he slept.
They went through with it. Lucius got his finger cut off. They went through with the procedure as carefully as they could, and they did everything they could to make the healing process quick and as painless as possible. Lucius was himself again in a matter of days.
The first time Pete saw him up and about, after that, felt like a miracle.
Today was the day.
He took a deep breath as he noticed Lucius approaching, preparing himself for the conversation he was about to have.
"So- uhh-" he said immediately, too anxious to give Lucius a chance to start the conversation. If Lucius said anything, he'd lose confidence immediately.
"Listen..." he continued, already forgetting the words he had carefully arranged in his head, "I- I thought I was gonna lose you-"
"Oh yeah? Well you nearly did, cause I had a really bad infection, so," Lucius replied easily, and FUCK because of course Lucius was already back with his quips and sarcasm less than a week after recovering from some disease that lost him his finger. When did his mind ever rest? Pete was speechless.
"Exactly," he choked out, trying to remember what he was supposed to say, "and uh- and. Uh. Death! You know."
Oh this was going so poorly. Pete only remembered bits and pieces of what he wanted to say, and they did not come out coherently. He tried to recover by elaborating.
"I'm used to death. But um. But not- uh...your death," he said, and wow that did not help him at all, "Uh! So! Anyway, I uh...made this for you."
Almost shaking, he took the box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing the wooden finger prosthetic he had spent the last few days whittling. Not even a second passed, but it felt like too long, so he continued.
"It looks like a thumb, but...it's a finger. I whittled it- it's dumb, you don't have to wear it," he rambled, hating his work every moment longer he stared at it.
He absolutely would have continued on a self deprecating rant, and Lucius must have known this, because his mouth was promptly shut as he was kissed.
Clarity washed over Pete. Lucius was appreciative of the stupid gift not because it was good, but because it was thoughtful, and because there was love in it. Pete's love was recognized, and reciprocated. He spent all those days practicing what he might say, all those conversations trying to get himself to confess, and then he did it on accident. Maybe it was in Lucius' nature not to take bullshit. Maybe it was just due to his insane intelligence that he knew when someone was keeping a secret from him. Maybe Pete was terribly obvious and he just didn't know. Maybe it was all of the above. At this point, who cared what it was? Lucius kissed Pete, and he could not have been happier about it.
"I love it," Lucius said with a genuine smile, as he pulled away, "And I didn't know you whittled."
"There's a lot you don't know about me," Pete tried to quip, so he might come off as cool and sarcastic as his counterpart, but he immediately regretted it.
"Actually, that's kind of it," he blurted straight after. Lucius laughed.
"Well, if you're looking for a new hobby, I'm here," Lucius offered.
"I like the sound of that," Pete nodded, watching Lucius pick up the finger and put it on his hand.
"This is very well done," Lucius noted aloud, then smirked, "What else are your hands good for that you might show me?"
"Obtener un cuarto," Jim muttered as they passed by, but patted Pete on the back anyway.
"Shall we?" Pete asked, offering his hand. Lucius took it.