5 Dawn
Bells rang out across Charles Town just after sunrise, clear and insistent, calling the townsfolk to the docks.
Jay heard them from his cell, the sound carrying on the brisk morning wind that swept away the last remnants of the storm.
Cheers followed, distant at first, then swelling as word spread.
The deal was done. Governor Johnson had capitulated fully overnight, sending the chest of medicines under flag of truce at first light.
In return, Blackbeard released the hostages unharmed, swore not to burn the captured ships, and promised to lift the blockade by midday. The port would breathe free again.
Jay stood at the barred window, watching figures bustle along the waterfront.
Boats ferried the freed prisoners ashore, Samuel Wragg among them, looking haggard but alive.
Blackbeard's fleet maneuvered slowly, sails catching wind as they prepared to depart.
And soon, Jay knew, a boat would come for him. Leverage no longer needed.
The outer door banged open, and Henri strode in with two other guards, faces set in grim satisfaction.
"Time to go, pirate," one announced, keys jangling.
They unchained Jay fully, binding only his wrists loosely, for appearance.
Henri avoided his eyes at first, directing the others with clipped orders.
As they marched him through the streets, crowds gathered, jeering and spitting.
Jay kept his head high, green eyes scanning for threats, but his mind fixed on Henri walking beside him, musket slung but hand twitching toward the pistol at his belt.
Whispers had reached Jay through the guards' talk: the prisoner would be rowed out to the flagship personally, escorted by a small party to ensure no tricks.
At the dock, a longboat waited, oarsmen ready. The other guards climbed in, leaving space. Henri paused, speaking low to his comrade. "I'll take him out alone. Governor's orders, minimize risk ashore." A lie, smoothly delivered. The man shrugged, trusting Henri's rank.
Jay's pulse quickened as Henri guided him into the boat, settling opposite. No words yet, just the splash of oars dipping into water as they pulled away from the pier. The town receded, Blackbeard's ships looming larger, black flags still flying, but sails filling for departure.
Halfway out, Henri shipped his oar, letting momentum carry them. He drew a knife, slicing Jay's wrist bonds cleanly. "We're not going to your captain," he said quietly, voice steady despite the wildness in his eyes. "Not unless you want to."
Jay rubbed his wrists, staring. "You sure about this? Deserting, they'll brand you traitor. Hunt you down."
Henri glanced back at the shrinking shoreline. "I've been sure since last night. Thought about watching them hand you over, then going back to empty barracks and lies. Couldn't do it. You're the only real thing I've touched in years."
Jay reached across, gripping Henri's forearm, muscle hard under the sleeve. "Then where? We can't just drift."
Henri nodded toward a small cove to the north, hidden by mangroves. "Stashed a dinghy there yesterday, provisions too. We slip away while Blackbeard's focused on sailing. Head south, other ports, other ships. Together."
The decision settled between them like a vow. Jay leaned forward, pulling Henri into a brief, fierce kiss, salt on lips from sea spray. "Together."
They veered toward the cove, oars working in silent rhythm.
Once ashore in the concealed inlet, Henri hauled out the hidden boat, smaller, swifter.
They loaded the sacks quickly: water, hardtack, a compass, Henri's spare pistol and powder.
His uniform coat went overboard, replaced by a plain shirt from the stash. No turning back.
As they pushed off, Blackbeard's cannons boomed in salute, or warning, as the fleet cleared the harbor mouth. No pursuit yet; Jay was just one man, not worth chasing with bounty secured.
They rowed hard until the coast faded to a haze, then hoisted a scrap of sail on the dinghy's makeshift mast. Wind favored them southbound.
Exhaustion hit as adrenaline ebbed, but relief too.
Jay trailing fingers in the water, watching Henri at the tiller, hair tousled by wind, face lighter than Jay had ever seen.
Night fell swift at sea, stars pricking the velvet sky. They anchored in a shallow bay off an uninhabited key, waves lapping gentle at the hull. Hunger drove them to share the meager food, washed down with fresh water. Then, with the boat rocking softly, desire rose inevitable.
Henri pulled Jay close first, hands framing his face. "Out here, no bars. No ranks." His kiss was slow this time, exploratory, tongue tracing Jay's lips before delving deep. Jay groaned, pressing full length against him, feeling Henri's cock harden through breeches.
They stripped unhurried, moonlight silvering skin. Henri's body gleamed, broad shoulders tapering to narrow waist, thighs thick from marching now flexing as he knelt in the boat's bottom. Jay lay back on the folded sail, legs spreading in invitation.
Henri hovered above, eyes devouring. "Want to take you tonight. Feel you around me."
Jay nodded, pulling knees higher. "Do it. Been waiting."
Henri slicked himself with oil from the kit, same vial, but now shared freely. His cock stood proud, thick head glistening. He teased first, rubbing along Jay's crack, pressing at the hole without entering. Jay arched, hands gripping Henri's biceps, veins standing out under strain.
"Tease…" Jay breathed, rocking down.
Henri grinned, rare and open. "Patience." But he pushed in steady, breaching the ring slow. Jay exhaled, relaxing around the girth, fuller than fingers, stretching deliciously. Henri paused halfway, leaning to kiss Jay's neck, sucking at the pulse point.
"All of it," Jay urged, heels digging into Henri's ass.
Henri thrust deeper, seating fully with a shared groan. The boat swayed with the motion. He started slow rolls of hips, grinding deep, cock dragging over Jay's prostate on each pass. Jay's length lay trapped between them, leaking onto his stomach.
"Fuck, so hot inside," Henri muttered, voice rough. He braced on elbows, thrusting harder, measured but powerful, balls slapping Jay's ass. Sweat beaded on his chest, dripping down to mix with Jay's.
Jay wrapped legs tighter, meeting each drive. "Harder. Own it, own me."
Henri obliged, pace quickening, headboard-less boat creaking. One hand snaked between to stroke Jay's cock, firm twists over the head, thumb smearing precum. The dual sensation built fast.
"Gonna fill you," Henri growled, bites along Jay's shoulder. "Mark you inside."
Jay clenched deliberately, drawing a hiss. "Do it. Cum deep."
Henri's rhythm faltered, thrusts erratic. He buried face in Jay's neck, muffling cries as he came, hot pulses flooding Jay, coating walls. The clench triggered Jay's release, untouched now, cum shooting between abs, striping Henri's chest in sticky ropes.
They rode the aftershocks, Henri still inside, softening slowly. He pulled out gently, cum trickling down Jay's thighs into the sail. No rush to clean; they lay tangled, sea breeze cooling heated skin.
"First time topping," Henri admitted later, tracing idle patterns through the mess on Jay's stomach. "Felt right. Powerful."
Jay chuckled, nuzzling his beard. "You were born for it. And we'll have plenty more practice."
Days blurred into a rhythm of sailing by day, anchoring by night.
They skirted shipping lanes, heading toward less-patrolled waters, perhaps the Carolinas' outer banks, or further to the Bahamas where crews mixed freely.
Henri adapted quick, learning knots from Jay, sharing watch.
Nights brought more exploration, lazy frottage under stars, Henri's mouth learning new tricks on Jay's body, Jay riding him reverse in the moonlight.
But uncertainty lingered. Blackbeard's fleet might spread word of the deserter; Charles Town guards could send warnings. Pirate life wasn't gentle on newcomers, especially former lawmen. Henri voiced it one twilight, as they shared rum scavenged from a floating cask.
"They'll test me," he said, staring at horizon. "Your crew, Blackbeard's men. Might not welcome a turncoat."
Jay leaned against him, arm around waist. "Then we find another ship. Or go independent. I've slipped worse nets. And you've got skills, musket, discipline. They'll see worth."
Henri turned, kissing him soft. "Worth it for this. For you."
Weeks later, they sighted a likely port, Nassau's lawless sprawl, haven for rogues. Smoke rose from taverns, ships of every flag crammed the harbor. Jay knew faces there, old allies who owed favors.
As they rowed in, Henri straightened, hand on pistol but eyes steady. Jay squeezed his thigh. "New start."
They stepped ashore together, blending into the crowd, two more hard men seeking crew. Whispers followed Henri's build, Jay's reputation as Slick. Opportunities came quick: a berth on a swift sloop hunting Spanish galleons, captain indifferent to pasts.
Aboard their new ship, quarters tight, they kept discretion, separate hammocks, stolen moments in the hold or on watch. But in quiet nights, with canvas overhead and sea singing, they claimed each other fully, no hiding now.
Months turned to years in fragments: prizes taken, storms weathered, wounds tended. Henri earned respect the hard way, steady in battle, fair in shares. Jay's cunning complemented his strength. Their bond deepened in secrecy, but solid.
One dawn off the Florida coast, after a fierce skirmish yielding gold, they stood at the rail. Henri's arm brushed Jay's, subtle but deliberate.
"Regrets?" Jay asked, wind whipping hair.
Henri smiled, blue eyes on the endless blue. "None. Found my freedom in you."
Jay returned it, hand covertly entwining fingers. Ahead lay unknown horizons, danger, riches, perhaps legends of their own. But together, unchained at last.