#keane cw he's a badguy

[monicashipsnickyjoe]

A Treasure Worthy of a King - Pirate AU - 3k words

Nicolo has been the terror of the seas for a solid decade. He’s plundered many ships, evaded many privateers. He’s feared by his crew and the world alike, an image he’s cultivated with carefully selected targets, few words, and several well-timed glares.

Only a handful of his most trusted know the truth. That Nicolo hesitates to take a life. That when he chooses their targets, he specifically picks the King’s vessels with fat payloads, not small merchant ships. That his portion of the earnings is regularly delivered to an orphanage in a small, seaside village.

His trusted few help him pick the targets most deserving of plunder.

So when Nicolo raids a King’s vessel he heard carries wealth only to find a foreign dignitary, a prince no less, with a handful of guards and a skeleton crew, Nicolo is confused. Moreso, when the prince does not look at him with fear, but with a type wide-eyed adoration, like Nicolo is his salvation and not an agent of death.

“We should take him for ransom,” says Nicolo’s first mate Keane, a man Nicolo doesn’t trust or like much, but who has been around long enough to know the job.

“Yes, yes,” says the prince, gold and jewels glittering, though none as bright as his eyes. “That sounds a good plan.”

Nicolo is rendered momentarily speechless by the beauty of this man – for he has much, from the ocean of tight curls on his head to his well-groomed beard to his wide shoulders poorly concealed with silk robes.

“You...” Nicolo pauses.

The prince points at himself. “Yusuf.”

Nicolo shakes his head. That’s not what he’s asking. “You wish to be kidnapped?”

Keane gives Nicolo a strange look. “What are you asking him for?”

Nicolo has never been questioned before. He glares at Keane until he lowers his head.

Yusuf, meanwhile, only brightens, even when Nicolo turns the same glower on him.

“I’m very impressed,” Yusuf says, smiling. “Very... afraid? Is that what you’re after? Please, let’s hurry this along. I would like not to be prematurely rescued.” Finally, Yusuf’s brightness begins to dim, and Nicolo is struck with a rush of regret so sudden that he’s startled.

“To the ship, then,” he says, when he’s recovered enough.

The crew starts for Yusuf, but Nicolo is there first, taking him under the arm and tugging him forward. He wants to be gentle, but forces some roughness for show. Even so, he is much kinder than any of the crew would have been.

“This man is our ransom,” Nicolo tells them. “Any harm that comes to him will be returned tenfold.”

The crew murmur their agreement. Those closest eye Yusuf’s many jewels.

“You will turn over any valuables,” Nicolo says. He is softer than he means to be, in front of his crew.

“A small price to pay.” Yusuf removes them. Keane is the first to take them from his hands.

Nicolo escorts Yusuf to his ship, staring down any who look too long. No one dares question him now.

He starts for the brig, but changes his mind after a single step. He cannot see a man like Yusuf behind bars. Until he is returned to where he should be, Yusuf will remain in the best comfort Nicolo can offer. So he takes him to the captain’s quarters instead.

With the door closed behind them, Nicolo lightens his touch. He guides Yusuf a few steps further, then pulls away entirely.

“Have I hurt you?” he asks.

“No.” Yusuf stretches out his arm. “I expected manhandling.” He’s smiling again. “Your touch is not so unpleasant.”

Nicolo’s mind is caught in a storm. It takes some time for it to clear. “You... ‘expected?’”

“Oh? Of course.” Yusuf turns toward the room, walks the short distance from the map table to the foot of the bed. “Andromache explained everything.”

“Andromache.”

“Yes.” Yusuf leans forward and tests the strength of the bed. The storm in Nicolo’s brain becomes a hurricane. “Though she did not mention how terribly handsome my rescuer would be.”

“Rescuer.”

Yusuf stands fully upright again, and glances over his shoulder to Nicolo. “Are you well, Captain? Your face is turning very red.”

Nicolo feels underwater, like he’s moving and thinking in slow-motion. “This is a pirate ship, your highness.”

Yusuf waves his hand. “Call me Yusuf.” He must not understand the dire nature of his present circumstances, to be so flippant.

“We are pirates,” Nicolo says slowly, so that even if Yusuf struggles with the language - which does not appear to be the case - he will understand. “I am a pirate. And you are being held for ransom.”

“Yes.” Yusuf claps his hands together. “It’s wonderful.” Before Nicolo can even begin to try again, to somehow explain that if Yusuf is not overly careful, he could very well be killed, Yusuf steps away from the bed. “Here I was in a dark hour of need. I pleaded with Andromache for help. She was not terribly eager at first, but when I explained...” He sidesteps the map table, and does not stop walking until he is very near Nicolo.

Nicolo stands still as a statue.

“I know you will not ransom me, Captain. Andromache made that clear.”

“It seems,” Nicolo licks his lips, watching with wonder as Yusuf tracks the movement, “that Andromache has revealed much.”

Yusuf blinks and looks again into Nicolo’s eyes.

“She did not tell you,” Yusuf says. He leans back and Nicolo exhales, unsure if in relief or disappointment.

Nicolo forces out, “No.”

“You are my savior, Captain, from a life of misery.” He steps back, stretches his arms out. “A life I have no desire of returning to.”

“You are a prince,” Nicolo says. Why would Yusuf risk his life to give up such luxury?

“Betrothed,” Yusuf says. He pauses. “To a very beautiful woman.” He drops his arms.

Nicolo still doesn’t understand. Yusuf must see it in his face, because he comes forward again, back into Nicolo’s space, stealing his breath away.

Yusuf says, a whisper, “It is not a woman I want.”

Oh. Oh.

Nicolo’s whole body ignites in fire. He’s suppressed it for so long, resigning himself to the sea and his duty to the crew and the orphanage. He cannot remember the last time he has allowed himself to consider carnal pleasures.

He has never before been so sorely tempted.

“Do you understand now, Captain?” Yusuf’s voice is a sultry promise.

Nicolo’s every nerve itches to reach out, to touch, to – no.

Regardless of intent, Yusuf is his captive. Until Nicolo can free him, he will not –

He won’t –

Yusuf tilts his head slightly, moving a hair closer.

Nicolo jerks backwards, knocking into the closed door.

“Captain?”

“Nicolo. My name is Nicolo.” He’s proud his voice only shakes a little. “You... You must stay here, until I can find some way to help you escape.”

Yusuf, watching him, begins to frown. “Escape?”

“I will find a way,” Nicolo promises and flees.

*

“We must make port,” Nicolo tells the crew. He lies, “So that we can send word of our ransom.”

He gives them the heading to a pirate-friendly port town where he knows Andromache will be.

She pulled him into this mess. She can help him out of it.

*

At dinnertime, Nicolo takes a full portion to the door of the Captain’s quarters. With his crew watching, he shouldn’t knock, though he desperately wants to. Instead, he fumbles with the door handle, giving Yusuf inside fair warning of his entering.

Yusuf does not get the warning.

He is asleep on the bed, but it is not restful. He thrashes out against the blankets, whimpering.

Nicolo drops the plate on the table and hurries toward his side. He catches a sleepy punch thrown his way, and eases Yusuf’s arm back to the bedding. Yusuf leans into him, curling toward where he’s placed his knees on the bed.

Not knowing what to do but wishing to comfort him, Nicolo reaches a hand and places his palm to Yusuf’s cheek.

Yusuf’s whimpers ease into softer hums. A moment’s calm, and then Yusuf’s eyes flutter open.

“Nicolo.”

Nicolo has not heard his name aloud since the last time he sat with Andromache in a run-down tavern, when she told him of a ship carrying gold that carried Yusuf instead. He has not heard his name aloud, like this, spoken with reverence, in as long a time as he can recall.

“You were having a nightmare,” Nicolo says.

“It was, yes,” Yusuf whispers. “But then you arrived.” He smiles and puts the sun to shame. “I dreamed you.” His blinks are slow. His eyelids heavy. Nicolo keeps his hand to his face and watches as sleep again pulls him under.

Nicolo stays, longer than he needs to, longer than he should, touching Yusuf’s cheek, then his shoulder, then his hand, guarding him from nightmares, both waking and asleep.

When he falls asleep himself, it is on the floor, his hand on the edge of the bed waiting, in case he is needed once more.

*

Though Nicolo had demanded that Yusuf stay in the Captain’s quarters for his own safety, he is not surprised to find him escaped and out among the crew. What does surprise him is both how the crew indulges him – although that smile of his is disarming – and the way he is dressed.

Gone are the silk robes. In their place, Yusuf has stolen a pair of Nicolo’s breeches and one of his loose linen shirts.

Nicolo’s mouth goes dry. When had he picked those out? Had he gone through all of Nicolo’s clothing until he found what he liked? How had he decided?

And what kind of prince had any right to muscles like those, now clearly defined beneath the near-transparent linen?

Nicolo thought all royalty pretty and useless, locked behind their walls, their cares tended to by others.

The crewman shows Yusuf how to tie a sailor’s knot, and Yusuf easily replicates it. He is a fast learner, and eager. So unlike Nicolo’s idea of a royal.

“We’ll be at port in two days’ time,” Keane says from the helm.

Nicolo, realizing he has been staring at Yusuf, looks towards his first mate instead. “Yes.” He hasn’t been listening, really.

Keane seems to notice, because he repeats, “Port. Two days.”

“Right.” Nicolo dares another glance at Yusuf, and finds him staring back.

When their eyes catch, Yusuf waves.

Nicolo only just stops himself from waving back.

He hopes Keane didn’t notice, though with Keane’s hawk eyes, he worries.

 The worries come to a head the next night, while Nicolo is standing on the deck, peering up at the stars from near the railing, when he suddenly, inexplicably, finds himself being shoved over it.

He reaches out and grabs the banister at the last moment, but his feet are dangling. The banister’s wet. It’s too dark to find him if he topples over.

Bathed in moonlight, Keane is there. He does not reach out a hand to help. Instead, he pulls out a knife.

“Why don’t you call for help, Captain?” Keane says. “Let the crew see the coward you are.” He crouches, bringing his face closer to Nicolo, though on the safe side of the railing. “I have watched you these years. You are weak.”

“If this is a mutiny,” Nicolo says through gritted teeth. His hands are slipping. He holds on with his fingernails. “Where are the rest of the crew? Why are you alone?”

Keane’s face twists with anger.

Pride swells in Nicolo, for his loyal crew. “They would not join you. They would not even listen to you. They believe as I do, that you are coward.”

Keane brings his knife closer. It flashes dangerously in the moonlight. “Big words from a man about to die.”

Nicolo thinks that he has always known it would eventually come to this. He knew Keane doubted not just his leadership but all that he stood for. Yet even knowing it, he has kept Keane on.

A pirate lived and died by the sea. And maybe, Nicolo has been too willing to test it.

Keane lifts up the knife, readying an attack.

A figure knocks into the side of him. Keane falls. The knife flies, skittering across the wooden planks of the deck. The figure, Nicolo’s savior, rights himself, and it’s Yusuf.

“Nicolo!”

Yusuf hurries to the railing, reaches over it. He begins to lift Nicolo, enough that he can get a better grip on the banister, but then Keane is there, yanking him back.

Yusuf twists in Keane’s hold and punches him. Keane stumbles back, but not for long, not long enough for Yusuf to do anything other than prepare for the next attack.

They grapple, equally matched.

With his new hold, Nicolo has leverage he didn’t before. He exerts all his strength and swings up his legs, finding footing on the edge of the deck. With it, he easily pulls himself up the banister to the top of the railing and over it to safety.

He steadies himself. His arms ache and his fingers burn, but he will help Yusuf no matter – oh.

Yusuf, Nicolo’s protector, his savior, and his captive, does not need help.

Keane is dead at his feet, neck broken.

And Yusuf stares down at the body in pity. “He was your first mate.” He’s out of breath, chest heaving. Nicolo moves to his side, as close as he can without touching.

“Yes.”

“He tried to kill you.”

“Yes.”

Yusuf leans into Nicolo, brushing their shoulders together. “When I came looking for you, and I saw...” He breathes deeply. “I feared the worst.”

“It’s not yet my time,” Nicolo says quietly. He thinks on Yusuf’s words. “You came looking for me?”

Yusuf is slow to answer. “I cannot sleep without you.”

Nicolo frowns. “I sleep on the floor.”

“Your presence is soothing.” Yusuf runs a hand down his face. He stares down at the body. “Should we leave it for the others to find? Some kind of warning?”

“No. This was a mutiny of one. I’d rather send him to the sea and be done with it.”

Together they lift the body and cast it over the side. A moment, then a splash, and Keane is forever gone.

Yusuf and Nicolo stand at the railing. Though Nicolo could stay longer, Yusuf tugs on the back of his coat.

“I would like to see you away from the ledge for the rest of the night, if you don’t mind.”

Nicolo obliges him.

*

Later, in the captain’s quarters, Yusuf washes the blood from Nicolo’s hands and tends them.

“I haven’t thanked you yet,” Nicolo says. “I owe you my life.”

Yusuf waves the words away like he saves lives every day. Perhaps he does.

“You can sleep in the bed tonight,” Yusuf says instead, when he’s finished wrapping Nicolo’s raw hands.

“The floor is comfortable enough.”

“I will convince you.”

“Not in this,” Nicolo says, a whisper. “Not tonight.”

“Not tonight?” Yusuf watches him, a spark in his eye. “Does that imply perhaps a someday?”

Nicolo gives him a small smile, but that is all he can give for now. “Ask me again when I have helped you escape.”

Confusion spreads over Yusuf’s face. “Nicolo, I do not think you understand that –”

“Yusuf, I am tired.” Too tired to argue. Too tired to think of reasons he shouldn’t lie with this man. Too tired to voice them.

Yusuf’s face holds no smile now, all dire lines and darkness. “You are trembling.”

“I am so tired.”

“Lie down,” Yusuf says. “Let me hold you. Nothing untoward, I swear to you.”

Nicolo is a miserable wretch. “You will not hate me?”

Yusuf cups Nicolo’s face with both hands. He leans forward and places a soft kiss to each of Nicolo’s eyelids. “I could never, my heart.”

Nicolo lies down on the bed, as does Yusuf behind him. Yusuf wraps him in his arms, swallows him in warmth. In comfort.

Nicolo has belonged nowhere for so long. Now he feels as if he has returned to a home he didn’t know he had.

He closes his eyes, and sleep finds him easier than it ever has before.

In the dark, as the sea rocks them like babies in a cradle, Yusuf whispers into the back of Nicolo’s neck, “Andromache told me of a lonely man, heart as big as an ocean, who stole from kings to give to children.” He presses his smile to Nicolo’s skin. “I loved you before I met you. And meeting you, I love you more.”

Nicolo hears the words, but believes them to be a dream.

*

The morning comes too quickly, and the day brings them to port.

No one mentions Keane. His duties are quietly filled by others. Only one crewman is brave enough, and mutters, “Good riddance,” to the empty bunk.

 As the crew disembarks at the port, Nicolo lingers, watching. Yusuf stands at his side. He’s still wearing Nicolo’s clothes, even though Nicolo had set out his silk robes earlier across the back of a chair.

The day grows long. Most of the crew has left. Nicolo and Yusuf linger.

Nicolo doesn’t want to say goodbye.

For Yusuf, though, he must.

“Andromache is here,” Nicolo says. “We will go to her, and... I’m certain she will find you safe passage wherever you wish to go.”

Yusuf laughs.

Nicolo, startled, looks to him.

His smile is the north star. “I think you purposefully misunderstand.”

Nicolo straightens. “What do you mean?”

“Nicolo.” Yusuf turns to him. He takes one of Nicolo’s hands in both of his. “Do you truly not know?”

Maybe he does. Or at least, suspects. But. But. “You cannot want this life, Yusuf.”

“I wanted freedom,” Yusuf says, “And I found it in your eyes.”

Those pretty words muddy Nicolo’s thoughts, and he has to think clearly. He removes his hand from Yusuf’s and backs away. “You have been on the ship a handful of days. That is not enough time to know if it suits you.”

“I came here wanting this, Nicolo. The freedom of the sea and the wind at my back.” Yusuf, following Nicolo, steps forward. “I asked Andromache to help me become a pirate. She brought me you.” Another step, closer still – dangerously close. “I thank you for trying to protect me, but I do not need protecting. Not from this ship. Not from this life. And not from you.”

“Yusuf.”

“I am more pirate than I ever was prince.” Yusuf places both hands on Nicolo’s chest. Nicolo’s heart thunders beneath them. “And if you will have me, I would also be yours.”

Nicolo swallows. “This is a terrible idea.” He’s not pulling away. Not anymore. Instead, he leans forward, brushing noses with Yusuf.

“All of the best ideas are, my heart,” Yusuf says and kisses him.

*

Nicolo sits at a table across from Andromache. Not far off, at the bar, Yusuf laughs with Quynh and Lykon, who apparently he’s met once before and already befriended. Nicolo isn’t the least surprised. He knows now, to expect the unexpected with Yusuf.

“I see you found your prize,” Andromache says, grinning into her mug.

“You said, and I’m quoting, ‘A treasure worthy of a king.’” Nicolo tries to sound accusatory but he cannot keep the smile from curling his lips. It’s so easy to smile, when he can hear Yusuf laughing. When Nicolo glances over and finds him watching.

“Was I lying?” Andromache asks.

And Nicolo knows, “He’s more.”

[monicashipsnickyjoe]

Artists, Romantics

Now up on Ao3

“I’m talking to the most handsome man in the room,” Joe says, voice like smooth whiskey. When Nicky checks behind him, Joe laughs. “Yes, you.”

Nicky wonders briefly if Joe’s a police detective and Nicky’s been made. Maybe he should just walk right out the door and forget this job altogether.

But.

Joe is burning hot in that tuxedo, and Nicky likes to play with fire.

“I’m Nicky.”

(artist joe/art thief nicky)