Tag: black sails

my-truest-flinthamilton:

It’s a pale and early morning, the sun not yet high enough to bring on the usual heat of another day on the bahamas.

James finds it easiest to fall asleep when the first light already floods through their bedroom window because for all his metaphors and speeches, what lies in the dark for him are mostly nightmares.

So he lies wrapped in Thomas’ arms, difting in and out of conciousness until the sun comes up, until it’s safe to properly rest.

When he wakes again the sun is high up in the sky and through the open window he can hear distant waves crashing against the cliffs.

He finds a shirt (it’s Thomas’, he realises when the sleeves fall way beyond his wrists) and steps outside to make his return to the realm of the concious known.

Thomas is outside, feeding birds. Being locked up and away in Bethlem and Savannah left its marks on both his body and his soul, James noticed quickly that Thomas would sometimes wander off for a bit or just step outside their door to feel the sea breeze on his face and on his hair. To remind himself that he can go wherever he wants, when he wants it with no chains binding him but his own will.

Of course he doesn’t want to go anywhere else. Because this is home, safe and private. Full of books and love, offering peace and serenity in a world that has, for the post part, failed to show them a lot of either.

James comes up to him, steps intentionally a bit louder than necessary to make his presence known, to give Thomas the opportunity to ask to be alone. He doesn’t ask.

They embrace, relishing in their freedom to touch, to hold each other whenever they like and Thomas feels James press a kiss to the side of his neck.

‘Slept?’ They aren’t at the point of slept well yet. James nods and Thomas pulls him a little closer, buries his face in his love’s hair, so much shorter than he remembered from ten years back but longer than it was that first day.

Holding James alive and mostly well in his arms is a blessing Thomas will never take for granted. “It is not good for the man to be alone” He isn’t sure whether God reached out to bring them back to each other again or if it was fate or dumb luck or their sheer desperation and determination to hold each other again, but Thomas is thankful nonetheless.

It’s like the sun rose after a long night, the cold and darkness chased away by golden light. It’s like being reborn, given a second chance and this time life promised to treat them better.