Buccaneer's Boy - Chapter Two
Author: emocezi
Title: Buccaneer's Boy - Chapter Two
Wordcount: 1996
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor do I make a profit from this fiction.
A/N: Here's the second installment. Sorry this took so long to get up, life's been kicking my butt, especially around the holiday season.
Chapter One
“I'm not wearing that.”
“If you want to step one foot off this ship, you will put it on.”
“Why?”
“Because the navy is looking for a young man.”
“Oh, and they won't look twice at a woman in your presence?”
“You're naïve. On an island like Tortuga, you wouldn't be looked at twice. Even if someone was putting your mouth to better use then arguing with me.” Burt snarled at the pale boy glaring at him. There was a flush high on Kurt's cheekbones, brought from either anger or embarrassment, Burt wasn't sure.
“...” Kurt opened his mouth to say something that would undoubtedly get him into trouble when the door slammed open and Puck strolled in, grinning and holding a wig. It was long, curls tumbling around riotously in a deep unnatural red.
“The only other color they had was blonde. Woulda washed you out.” He shuffled forward, nudging Kurt with his shoulder. The smaller boy slowly turned his head, eyes shooting daggers at the first mate who shoulder nudged him again, smirking.
A muscle twitched in Kurt's jaw as he spun on his heel, grabbing the wig from Puck's hand and shoving past the first mate who watched him go. Puck absently rubbed his chest, where Kurt's elbow had dug into his sternum when he's passed.
“Leave him alone.” Puck turned to see Burt watching him with an amused expression. “I mean it, the kid wouldn't know what to do if you approached him.”
“You're saying he's off limits?”
“I'm saying be careful. He doesn't trust anyone, I'm assuming we have his father to thank for beating his faith in humanity out of him.”
“So.....?” Burt sighed, wishing he hadn't finished off the last of his rum the night before, he needed to be drunk to have this conversation with his first mate.
“The kid isn't...off limits.” Burt rubbed his face in his hands, mumbling out the last bit and wondering when he started feeling like this kids father. “Keep it in your pants for the time being, don't wanna go scaring the little virgin off.”
XxX XxX
Kurt sulked, ignoring the looks he kept getting as they walked down the streets of Tortuga. The eyes undressing him, the lewd smiles, the muttered offers of 'having a real man' that were seriously getting on his nerves. It didn't help that Puck seemed to have forgotten the concept of personal space. The first mate had an arm around his waist, pulling him so close that he had stumbled a few times. Stupid dress kept getting tangled. Like they navy would even be at an island like this.
XxX XxX
“Sweet'eart, what're doin' all by y're lonesome? You shou come'n'ave a party with m'boys.” Kurt shuddered, he wasn't sure if it was the atrocious smell of the drunkards breath, or the way the mans hand was sliding down his back, fingers catching in the creases of the bodice that had been forced on him for the second time in a short period of time.
He was sitting by himself, waiting for Puck to come back with their drinks. Honestly how long did it take for two flagons of rum?
“Remove your hand or lose it.” A strong voice spoke up from behind Kurt and the drunk made a whimpering noise and stumbled away. “Are you alright, Milady?” Kurt half turned to glance up at his would be Savior. He looked up...and up...and up, finally arriving at the mans face.
“I-I'm fine. Thank you.”
“I'm Finn. May I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?”
“K-Charlotte.” Kurt stuttered out, stumbling over his name.
“It's nice to meet you, Charlotte. What brings a lady such as yourself to these parts?”
“I...” Kurt stopped, if he told this man what had happened, he would be rescued, taken back to his father where he would be beaten and forced into a loveless marriage. But if he stayed, he wasn't sure what would happen to him on the ship. Black Burt was sure to grow tired of his viper's tongue, sell him off at the next port, and he'd be just as stuck there as he would be if he returned to his father.
He was interrupted by Puck slamming two flagons of rum down on the table and glaring over at Finn who raised an eyebrow, not at all intimidated by the newcomer.
“You mind, this one's mine?”
“I don't see a mark of ownership on the lady.”
“There's no need for ownership on a whore.” Puck's smile was nasty and Kurt's jaw creaked with the effort of holding back his words. Rather then start yelling that he wasn't a whore, or a lady, which would only gain the wrong sort of attention Kurt stood, gathering all the dignity he could muster while wearing a dress.
“Finn, if you would do me the pleasure of being my escort around this despicable place.” Puck's jaw dropped, as if he didn't believe that anyone would choose a navy boy over him. Kurt's blue eyes flicked to Puck, pinning him in place. “I am not a whore. You would do well to remember that if you want my cooperation in your future endeavors.” Good to know his education wouldn't go to waste, discovering new ways to insult the pirate crew that refused to release him.
“Sit down.” Puck's voice was quiet, and though Kurt hadn't spent a lot of time with the first mate, he knew that tone of voice was far more dangerous then a loud tone.
“It's obvious to my eyes that the lady has grown tired of your company.” Finn spoke, eyes narrowing at Puck.
“The lady will remain in my company, unless she would rather be killed by drunken morons for the fun of it.” Puck stared directly at Kurt while he spoke, and the pale boy sat back down, getting the message. If anyone were to discover his being a man on this island, there would be consequences.
“Then I'll stay too.” Finn raised a hand, signaling a barmaid and requesting a flagon of watered down rum. Kurt looked from the pirate to the navyman, each attempting to stare the other down. The pale boy sighed and grabbed his glass of rum, gulping it down like water. It was going to be a long night.
XxX XxX
“So, how did a lady such as yourself get mixed up with Black Burt?” Finn asked, sliding his chair a little closer then Kurt was comfortable with. He shuffled his chair a few inches to the right, freezing when Puck's arm wrapped around his shoulders. Shit, he'd forgotten about that.
“It's a long story, not one we have time to tell.” Puck's grip tightened, a warning to keep his mouth shut around the curious navyman. “We've got to get back to the ship or they'll sail without us.”
“You take a lady on your ship?”
“She's not much of a lady, once we leave port.” There was a smug tone to his voice that had Kurt blushing, if only for the implications. “Move it wench.” Kurt sucked in a breath when Puck grabbed his arm and hauled the pale boy to his feet, catching him when he stumbled over the skirt tangling around his legs.
XxX XxX
If looks could kill, Puck would have been roasted alive, trampled by horses, staked out for wild dogs, tied naked to an ant hill, and shot. But unfortunately for Kurt, glaring at the back of the first mates head was accomplishing nothing other then tripping over his own feet every few steps.
He could feel the leering stares, practically hear the lecherous thoughts of the men who they passed on the way to the port where the Whyda was waiting. A small rowboat waiting at the dock for those that wanted to return to the ship.
They passed a man, humming a somewhat familiar tune. He nodded to Puck, dreadlocks shifting like snakes. Puck nodded back, feeling as if he should know this man, but when a name didn't immediately follow the face, he shrugged and forgot about it.
The first mate slowed when Kurt's hand suddenly gripped his tight, the pale boy jerking to a halt. Puck looked behind him, eyebrows raising in mirth at the image of the dreadlocked man grinning down at Kurt, one of his hands lost in the folds of Kurt's dress. Sure he could step in and save the kid, though that would ensure that Kurt would be bitching that he 'was not a girl' for the next few days. Puck was about ready to just tupp the boy over the railing and show him just how 'not a girl' he really was.
Kurt yanked his hand from Pucks and whirling to face the man who was smirking down at him in a way he probably thought was charming. Gold teeth glinting in the day light.
“I've got a soft spot for redheads.....would you like to see it, love?” The pale boy sputtered, a flush rising high on his cheeks, hands clenching into fists.
Everyone watching the spectacle on the street witnessed a slim, milk pale woman with fiery red curls dripping down her back haul off and punch the dreadlocked man, knocking him on his ass where he blinked up in surprise.
“You.....ass. How dare you presume that I would be welcoming of your disgusting lecherous intentions. If I had a sword I would run you through like the louse ridden, half-handed seadog you are.” Kurt huffed, grabbed a handful of skirt and turned, not wanting to trip and ruin his exit.
He ignored the first mate, who had fallen into step with him, smirking at the crowd of men who were murmuring among themselves that they would love to get their hands on a woman with that sort of fire in their veins. Puck threw his arm over Kurt's shoulders as they made their way down to the docks, stepping over the few drunks that were sleeping where they had fallen.
“That was hot.”
“Shut up.” Kurt was fuming, but waited until they were on the Whyda to tug off the wig, wiggling out of the dress until he was standing in a corset and breeches. The sight unimaginably hot. Puck licked his lips when Kurt turned, hands on his hips, and presented Kurt with his back.
“Unlace me.”
“I'd love to.” Puck muttered under his breath as he started picking at the knots and loosening up the laces until Kurt could pull the corset over his head. The pale boy taking a deep breath and twisting a little to crack his spine. “Those are healing well.” Puck ran a finger across one of the slowly healing scars that ran nearly vertical to Kurt's spine. The pale boy stilled under his touch, going silent.
Puck cursed himself to the seventh level of hell, wondering why he couldn't just toss the boy over a barrel of gunpowder and show him what it was to be free. But he knew the kid would hate him afterwards.
“Go put a shirt on. Cook wants you in the galley to help with supper.” Puck called over his shoulder as he headed for the Captain's rooms to see what plans Burt was making for their next heist.
Kurt watched the first mate go, wondering why Puck kept making advances and never following them through. His hands clenched on the heavy lace of the dress as he turned to head down to the small room they had shoved him into. Cooking for seventy men was no easy task, and he wasn't looking forward to getting yelled at by the angry one legged cook.
XxX XxX
Title: Buccaneer's Boy - Chapter Two
Wordcount: 1996
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor do I make a profit from this fiction.
A/N: Here's the second installment. Sorry this took so long to get up, life's been kicking my butt, especially around the holiday season.
Chapter One
“I'm not wearing that.”
“If you want to step one foot off this ship, you will put it on.”
“Why?”
“Because the navy is looking for a young man.”
“Oh, and they won't look twice at a woman in your presence?”
“You're naïve. On an island like Tortuga, you wouldn't be looked at twice. Even if someone was putting your mouth to better use then arguing with me.” Burt snarled at the pale boy glaring at him. There was a flush high on Kurt's cheekbones, brought from either anger or embarrassment, Burt wasn't sure.
“...” Kurt opened his mouth to say something that would undoubtedly get him into trouble when the door slammed open and Puck strolled in, grinning and holding a wig. It was long, curls tumbling around riotously in a deep unnatural red.
“The only other color they had was blonde. Woulda washed you out.” He shuffled forward, nudging Kurt with his shoulder. The smaller boy slowly turned his head, eyes shooting daggers at the first mate who shoulder nudged him again, smirking.
A muscle twitched in Kurt's jaw as he spun on his heel, grabbing the wig from Puck's hand and shoving past the first mate who watched him go. Puck absently rubbed his chest, where Kurt's elbow had dug into his sternum when he's passed.
“Leave him alone.” Puck turned to see Burt watching him with an amused expression. “I mean it, the kid wouldn't know what to do if you approached him.”
“You're saying he's off limits?”
“I'm saying be careful. He doesn't trust anyone, I'm assuming we have his father to thank for beating his faith in humanity out of him.”
“So.....?” Burt sighed, wishing he hadn't finished off the last of his rum the night before, he needed to be drunk to have this conversation with his first mate.
“The kid isn't...off limits.” Burt rubbed his face in his hands, mumbling out the last bit and wondering when he started feeling like this kids father. “Keep it in your pants for the time being, don't wanna go scaring the little virgin off.”
XxX XxX
Kurt sulked, ignoring the looks he kept getting as they walked down the streets of Tortuga. The eyes undressing him, the lewd smiles, the muttered offers of 'having a real man' that were seriously getting on his nerves. It didn't help that Puck seemed to have forgotten the concept of personal space. The first mate had an arm around his waist, pulling him so close that he had stumbled a few times. Stupid dress kept getting tangled. Like they navy would even be at an island like this.
XxX XxX
“Sweet'eart, what're doin' all by y're lonesome? You shou come'n'ave a party with m'boys.” Kurt shuddered, he wasn't sure if it was the atrocious smell of the drunkards breath, or the way the mans hand was sliding down his back, fingers catching in the creases of the bodice that had been forced on him for the second time in a short period of time.
He was sitting by himself, waiting for Puck to come back with their drinks. Honestly how long did it take for two flagons of rum?
“Remove your hand or lose it.” A strong voice spoke up from behind Kurt and the drunk made a whimpering noise and stumbled away. “Are you alright, Milady?” Kurt half turned to glance up at his would be Savior. He looked up...and up...and up, finally arriving at the mans face.
“I-I'm fine. Thank you.”
“I'm Finn. May I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?”
“K-Charlotte.” Kurt stuttered out, stumbling over his name.
“It's nice to meet you, Charlotte. What brings a lady such as yourself to these parts?”
“I...” Kurt stopped, if he told this man what had happened, he would be rescued, taken back to his father where he would be beaten and forced into a loveless marriage. But if he stayed, he wasn't sure what would happen to him on the ship. Black Burt was sure to grow tired of his viper's tongue, sell him off at the next port, and he'd be just as stuck there as he would be if he returned to his father.
He was interrupted by Puck slamming two flagons of rum down on the table and glaring over at Finn who raised an eyebrow, not at all intimidated by the newcomer.
“You mind, this one's mine?”
“I don't see a mark of ownership on the lady.”
“There's no need for ownership on a whore.” Puck's smile was nasty and Kurt's jaw creaked with the effort of holding back his words. Rather then start yelling that he wasn't a whore, or a lady, which would only gain the wrong sort of attention Kurt stood, gathering all the dignity he could muster while wearing a dress.
“Finn, if you would do me the pleasure of being my escort around this despicable place.” Puck's jaw dropped, as if he didn't believe that anyone would choose a navy boy over him. Kurt's blue eyes flicked to Puck, pinning him in place. “I am not a whore. You would do well to remember that if you want my cooperation in your future endeavors.” Good to know his education wouldn't go to waste, discovering new ways to insult the pirate crew that refused to release him.
“Sit down.” Puck's voice was quiet, and though Kurt hadn't spent a lot of time with the first mate, he knew that tone of voice was far more dangerous then a loud tone.
“It's obvious to my eyes that the lady has grown tired of your company.” Finn spoke, eyes narrowing at Puck.
“The lady will remain in my company, unless she would rather be killed by drunken morons for the fun of it.” Puck stared directly at Kurt while he spoke, and the pale boy sat back down, getting the message. If anyone were to discover his being a man on this island, there would be consequences.
“Then I'll stay too.” Finn raised a hand, signaling a barmaid and requesting a flagon of watered down rum. Kurt looked from the pirate to the navyman, each attempting to stare the other down. The pale boy sighed and grabbed his glass of rum, gulping it down like water. It was going to be a long night.
XxX XxX
“So, how did a lady such as yourself get mixed up with Black Burt?” Finn asked, sliding his chair a little closer then Kurt was comfortable with. He shuffled his chair a few inches to the right, freezing when Puck's arm wrapped around his shoulders. Shit, he'd forgotten about that.
“It's a long story, not one we have time to tell.” Puck's grip tightened, a warning to keep his mouth shut around the curious navyman. “We've got to get back to the ship or they'll sail without us.”
“You take a lady on your ship?”
“She's not much of a lady, once we leave port.” There was a smug tone to his voice that had Kurt blushing, if only for the implications. “Move it wench.” Kurt sucked in a breath when Puck grabbed his arm and hauled the pale boy to his feet, catching him when he stumbled over the skirt tangling around his legs.
XxX XxX
If looks could kill, Puck would have been roasted alive, trampled by horses, staked out for wild dogs, tied naked to an ant hill, and shot. But unfortunately for Kurt, glaring at the back of the first mates head was accomplishing nothing other then tripping over his own feet every few steps.
He could feel the leering stares, practically hear the lecherous thoughts of the men who they passed on the way to the port where the Whyda was waiting. A small rowboat waiting at the dock for those that wanted to return to the ship.
They passed a man, humming a somewhat familiar tune. He nodded to Puck, dreadlocks shifting like snakes. Puck nodded back, feeling as if he should know this man, but when a name didn't immediately follow the face, he shrugged and forgot about it.
The first mate slowed when Kurt's hand suddenly gripped his tight, the pale boy jerking to a halt. Puck looked behind him, eyebrows raising in mirth at the image of the dreadlocked man grinning down at Kurt, one of his hands lost in the folds of Kurt's dress. Sure he could step in and save the kid, though that would ensure that Kurt would be bitching that he 'was not a girl' for the next few days. Puck was about ready to just tupp the boy over the railing and show him just how 'not a girl' he really was.
Kurt yanked his hand from Pucks and whirling to face the man who was smirking down at him in a way he probably thought was charming. Gold teeth glinting in the day light.
“I've got a soft spot for redheads.....would you like to see it, love?” The pale boy sputtered, a flush rising high on his cheeks, hands clenching into fists.
Everyone watching the spectacle on the street witnessed a slim, milk pale woman with fiery red curls dripping down her back haul off and punch the dreadlocked man, knocking him on his ass where he blinked up in surprise.
“You.....ass. How dare you presume that I would be welcoming of your disgusting lecherous intentions. If I had a sword I would run you through like the louse ridden, half-handed seadog you are.” Kurt huffed, grabbed a handful of skirt and turned, not wanting to trip and ruin his exit.
He ignored the first mate, who had fallen into step with him, smirking at the crowd of men who were murmuring among themselves that they would love to get their hands on a woman with that sort of fire in their veins. Puck threw his arm over Kurt's shoulders as they made their way down to the docks, stepping over the few drunks that were sleeping where they had fallen.
“That was hot.”
“Shut up.” Kurt was fuming, but waited until they were on the Whyda to tug off the wig, wiggling out of the dress until he was standing in a corset and breeches. The sight unimaginably hot. Puck licked his lips when Kurt turned, hands on his hips, and presented Kurt with his back.
“Unlace me.”
“I'd love to.” Puck muttered under his breath as he started picking at the knots and loosening up the laces until Kurt could pull the corset over his head. The pale boy taking a deep breath and twisting a little to crack his spine. “Those are healing well.” Puck ran a finger across one of the slowly healing scars that ran nearly vertical to Kurt's spine. The pale boy stilled under his touch, going silent.
Puck cursed himself to the seventh level of hell, wondering why he couldn't just toss the boy over a barrel of gunpowder and show him what it was to be free. But he knew the kid would hate him afterwards.
“Go put a shirt on. Cook wants you in the galley to help with supper.” Puck called over his shoulder as he headed for the Captain's rooms to see what plans Burt was making for their next heist.
Kurt watched the first mate go, wondering why Puck kept making advances and never following them through. His hands clenched on the heavy lace of the dress as he turned to head down to the small room they had shoved him into. Cooking for seventy men was no easy task, and he wasn't looking forward to getting yelled at by the angry one legged cook.
XxX XxX