Watching them together over the weeks since Bonnet's return... well, no use dwelling on that.
Izzy shifts, not ready to open his eyes yet. Maybe he'd had one too many mugs of the watery ale the indifferent barmaid dropped on the table in front of him last night. His head throbs as he tries to roll over, the movement awkward with his hands bound behind his back.
His hands are bound behind his back.
Izzy freezes.
For now, he needs to get his bearings. He shifts again, slowly, carefully, knows he's probably being watched. The longer they think he's out cold the better. He turns slowly onto his side, then his back, lets his head loll to one side, almost ready to--
"Well, well, well, Mister Hands." The voice is warm, avuncular. Izzy's blood goes ice cold in his veins. "Come now, boy--surely this kind of play acting is beneath you"
A boot presses down in the centre of his chest, pinning him down on the rough wood floor of the ship's brig. Izzy's eyes open of their own volition. The boot digs into his sternum and Izzy may never forgive himself for the little moan of terror that slips out of him. He stares into cold blue eyes he hasn't seen in decades.
Well. That's not quite true. He sees them every night in dreams he always hoped might stop.
The man smiles down at him, eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine delight. Izzy swallows hard, forcing bile back down his throat, refusing to grimace at the burn.
"Come now, Israel," Benjamin Hornigold says, leaning down to wrap a hand in Izzy's hair. "How about a proper greeting for your old captain?"
*
It is absolutely not Stede's fault that it takes him and Edward almost a full day to notice that Izzy is missing. They're on shoreleave, after all. Stede managed to find a perfectly charming inn on the outskirts of town, a little run down in the way that always feels so terribly *authentic* to him. Edward indulges him as always, smiling softly as Stede uses his most flamboyant pirate captain voice to demand a room.
Stede swallows the sour little seed of unease that settles in his throat. Why should he worry about Izzy? The man's been nothing but a complete asshole since the moment they met. No matter how hunky he may be... Stede shudders at the thought, pouring Ed a fresh cup of tea to replace the last one, long since gone cold. It's not Stede's problem. It's not Stede's fault.
Izzy can look after himself.
He knows what's coming. Been expecting it since the moment he heard that fucking voice. Surprised it took this long really, but that's just another of Hornigold's games, isn't it? Izzy fucking hates games
It feels like the middle of the night when the door to his little cell clangs open. He'd just managed to finally drift towards sleep. Should have expected that, he reflects. Ben never liked to give him time to brace himself
Izzy's lip curls in a snarl. Hornigold laughs, hand tightening in Izzy's hair until he can't help but whimper
"Now," Hornigold says, voice cold. "Open your mouth."
Breathe in, breathe out. Izzy can do this. He can do this. Hornigold cocks the pistol
"You'll be good for me, won't you, little bird?" Hornigold says, smiling indulgently. "What do you think Mr. Teach would say if I left your corpse at the next port for him to find?"
Izzy's eyes fly back to Hornigold's face. Hornigold gives him a sympathetic smile. Izzy wishes he could rip the fucker's throat out with his teeth.
"Always a little fragile isn't he, your Captain Blackbeard," Hornigold says. Breathe in, breathe out. His cock bobs in front of Izzy's face, hard and red. It brushes the tip of Izzy's chin and he tries to turn his face away. Hornigold's hand fisted in his hair holds him in place.
"Now," Hornigold says, with a confidence Izzy fucking wishes were unwarranted. "Open."
Breathe in, breathe out. Izzy closes his eyes, lets his mouth fall open. The wood floor digs into his knees, splinters and whorls. His fingers scrabble at the wall behind him, the same wood. Cold steel of the pistol at his temple. Breathe in, breathe out, and Hornigold drags him onto his cock, thrusting forward, pinning Izzy against the wall.
Izzy chokes, drool spilling out his mouth and down his chin as Hornigold's cock bullies its way down his throat. Hornigold groans, thrusting fast and hard. At least he's not trying to make it last, Izzy thinks distantly.
"Open your eyes," Hornigold growls, the gun at Izzy's head digging in painfully. "Open your fucking eyes, slut."
Izzy can't find the rhythm of his breathing anymore. The hand in his hair twists cruelly.
He opens his eyes. Above him, Hornigold grins
"Such a good little whore," he says, breathless. He's getting close. This, at least, Izzy knows how to finish. He looks up into those cold, blue nightmare eyes and swirls his tongue around Hornigold's cock as he pulls out and then thrusts back in. Hornigold moans, hips stuttering as Izzy hollows his cheeks, lips soft as the hard shaft of Hornigold's cock forces its way down his throat
"I see you still haven't forgotten your little tricks," Hornigold sneers. "You really were born for this. But of course, deep down, you know that, don't you Israel?"
Izzy doesn't respond. He stares past Benjamin Hornigold, through him. Come and whatever else are cooling on his skin, sticky and foul. When he gets out of here, he'll find an inn with a tub and scrub until every inch of him feels clean again. He's going to get out.
Hornigold lets go of Izzy's hair, watches impassively as Izzy slumps to the floor at his feet.
"Get some rest, little bird," he says as he turns to leave. "I'll be back. I want to take my time with you."
Izzy stares at the wood floor under his face, memorizing the wood grain, the feel of it, ignoring the cooling come on his face, the smell of Ben Hornigold all around him. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Almost two full days pass while Stede dithers. Ed is no help at all, curled up in bed, barely responding when Stede tries to get him to talk.
"Maybe... maybe he doesn't want to be found," he says quietly, once, when Stede tries to press him, to get him to participate in the search, or at least acknowledge it. Given what Stede knows about the time before he returned, it's not an unreasonable question. Maybe Izzy just left.
Something about that doesn't sit quite right with Stede, though, and so he sends the crew into town again. No one seems willing to answer their questions. In retrospect, Stede probably should have paid more attention to that.
It's Buttons, in the end, who gets them out of port. Buttons, who comes to the captains' quarters early on the morning of the third day, standing in a slightly off kilter parade rest at Stede squints at him.
"I've news, cap'n, of Mr. Hands," he says, staring at a point somewhere beyond Stede's shoulder. "But I'm afraid ye're not gonna like it much."
On the bed, Ed shifts, turning a tear stained face to the door as he listens, dark circles under his eyes somehow only making him more beautiful. Buttons pauses, either for dramatic effect or, unsettlingly, to listen to something that Stede can't hear
"Well? Out with it, man!" Stede says
Buttons sighs, glancing at Ed and then looking away again.
"I've heard rumours," he says, cryptic, "of a Captain Hornigold passing through this port, cap'ns. A regular, ye might say. Certainly well known enough to pay a tavern wench to slip something into a man's drink, if ye get my drift."
Stede listens, jaw slack. Hornigold. He recognizes that name, though it takes him a moment to place it. Ed's old captain. Stede frowns.
He turns back to Ed, hoping for a more thorough explanation. What on earth would his former captain want with Israel bloody Hands? Kidnapping the disagreeable little man seems like more trouble than it's worth. Perhaps some kind of aggressive recruiting tactic? If Izzy wants to accept a new job, Stede certainly won't stand in his way...
The look on Ed's face stops Stede in his tracks. He looks like a child suddenly, eyes wide and full of tears.
He meets Stede's gaze and a few tears spring free, rolling fat and iridescent down his cheeks. His mouth works soundlessly for a moment before he finally manages to force a word out. It sounds hollow. Despairing.
"Izzy."
Ed pulls the blankets tight around him and rolls over, hiding his face. Stede watches his shoulders shake. The kernel of unease rises up his throat again, lodging there as he realizes with an uncomfortable lurch: he needs to save Izzy
Izzy's left(ist) nip piercing
Swev
WaywardAF
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