#hamiltonsilver

[arzani-fuchsia]

hey-hey, who's asking for prompts here? hi, darling

I’m back and since I read your prompt I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I love the idea of them braiding John’s hair... it’s so peaceful and soft

It’s set in my “the world in balance” verse but I think it’s understandable as a stand alone too.

Enjoy :)

Sunraysfiltered through the windows, a golden glow from the morning light. Somewhereout there, between the trees and grass, was James working. In a few weekswinter would come, but it wasn’t here yet. The last few crops had to be broughtin, as well as some remaining vegetables. Their cupboards were full, as theseason had enriched them with plenty. A good thing, considering the third partythat had recently entered their lives.

A smallsmile slipped over Thomas’ lips as he poured the hot water into the tea kettle.John was an enrichment to their lives. Yes, the start had been rough, and notall wounds were healed yet, figuratively as much as physically. But time was agood healer and since former captain and quartermaster shared a bed they smiledso much. They smiled and god, they were beautiful when they smiled.

Letting histhoughts drift lazily in the morning air, Thomas settled at the kitchen table.The tea warmed his fingers and his eyes drifted closed. He was content with hislife. After so many years of loss and tragedy he felt it in every bone thatthey had finally found peace. Not quite yet, not completely, but with John intheir house, he could see the finishing line.

A curseshook Thomas out of his daydreaming and he automatically sat a little straighter.Something clattered and then he heard a thump. Abandoning his tea, he swiftlymade his way to the guest room that was currently inhabited by John. Forgoingthe knocking, Thomas opened the door to find John sitting on the floor. A comblay forgotten an inch next to him. His black curls were a mess, half mussed up,half dangling in front of his beautiful face. As he entered he was met with afrustrated expression.

“Whathapp-?” Thomas tried to ask but was interrupted. John’s tone was sour.

“Can you getme some scissors?”

“What doyou need scissors for?” Thomas had an inkling but didn’t dare to think histhought through. He didn’t want to think his thought through.

“To get ridof those fucking curls!”

Of coursehe had to be right.

“No.”

“Wh-?” Thistime it was Thomas who interrupted John. He would not cut John’s beautifulhair. Not before he had a chance to run his hand through it and feel the softtexture for himself. Not before he could tug John’s head back by it, elicit amoan and kiss him thoroughly. Not before… not before something between themhappened, and Thomas knew that would need a little bit more time. Time, he waswilling to give. Time, he was willing to wait. But cutting John’s hair? Thatwas not a matter of time, it was a matter of never.

“I’m notexplaining to James why all of a sudden his lover’s gone bald.”

For amoment John just looked at him, then he shuddered and shook his head as to getrid of a mental image. “I didn’t say bald.”

Kneelingnext to the other man, Thomas picked up the comb and turned it in his hand. Itwas smooth, made out of dark oak, with long, wide teeth. Out of the edge of hiseyes he saw John fidgeting. Turning, Thomas gave the tool back softly. “Ialways thought you’re quite fond of your hair.”

The wordshung between them, filling the silence. Thomas couldn’t hinder himself fromsteeling appreciative glances while waiting for an answer. John was beautiful,and he couldn’t imagine the man without his long, dark curls.

A sighshifted the tension and with it John slumped down. Something akin to defeatfilled his eyes. It made Thomas want to wrap his arms around the younger man,cradle him and protect him from whatever was tearing inside of him. But herefrained from it. It wasn’t the right time. Not yet. Not yet…

“I am. Iwas. Can we just cut it?”

Ocean-blueeyes met Thomas’ from behind a veil of hair and cut through him like a sharpknife. The tumult in them felt like a storm trapped behind glass.

“If youtell me the reason why you want to cut it, I might remember where I’ve put thescissors.”

Silencefilled the room, again, before John answered sheepishly, almost vulnerably, “Ihurts…” All the while he had turned the comb in his hands. But only when helifted it halfway to his head, as if to demonstrate, and his face contorted inpain, Thomas understood.

John hadalmost died on their doorstep, the day he had appeared out of nowhere, withslashes all over his body. Not a word had left his mouth from where they camefrom or what had caused them, and by now Thomas had stopped asking. James had toldhim John didn’t speak about his past, but only until John had refused to speakabout what had happened to him, had Thomas really realized what that meant. Hecould live with it, did live with it. But anger boiled low in his bellywhenever he thought of the people who had done this to John. Who had cut himopen and then left him to die. He wanted to rip them apart and watch them bleedin turn.

Maybe itwas a good thing Thomas didn’t know who had hurt John. Maybe it was good he waskept from falling into the darkness that anger brought with it. He knew what itcould do to people. He had seen it in the endless stories about Captain Flintand Long John Silver. It was good both those people were dead.

It didn’tlessen the simple truth that John was in pain and couldn’t comb his own hair.

“Sit onyour bed,” Thomas said softly and plucked the comb back out of John’s hand. “Ican’t heal your wounds, but I can comb your hair.”

“It willjust muss up again,” John said weakly but did heave himself from the floor ontothe soft mattress of his bed. A low chuckle left Thomas’ throat, as he satbehind the man. His fingers itched to sink into the dark curls before him,swipe them away to kiss the soft flesh of John’s neck. Not yet, he toldhimself. He shifted an inch closer, though, and reveled in the body heat thatburned like fire on his skin. Parting the hair into two strands, he placed oneaside. His fingers run through the other one, to get rid of the worst knots.

“I canbraid it for you,” Thomas offered, while he worked on the curls. They were assoft as he had imagined them to be, yet full of knots and tangles. Obviously,John was an active sleeper, and who could blame him? Thomas knew of thenightmares that plagued James and he doubted John was spared either.

“Do youknow how to braid hair?” John asked reluctantly, doubt heavy in his voice. Itmade Thomas chuckle again. The man had a point.

“How hardcan it be?” he asked, placing the one half of John’s hair aside to reach forthe other and repeat the process of running his fingers through the curls. “Iwatched Miranda plenty of times while she got her hair done.”

“That wasover fifteen years ago,” John reminded, but leaned a little closer to Thomas,who took the movement as an agreement. It made him smile and he shifted to giveJohn more space. His back was heavy on Thomas’ chest, rising and falling intune with his breaths. It was an awkward way to brush hair, but Thomas wouldrather cut his arm off then made John move. It felt too peaceful, too perfectfor him to mind his aching arms, as he brushed and brushed the dark locks.After what felt forever but must only be ten to fifteen minutes the comb wentsmoothly through the curls, all knots erased.

They hadmostly been silent, and when Thomas put the comb aside he wondered if John hadfallen asleep. Not that he minded. It was a rather cute image. As if John hadread his mind, though, he dropped his head to his chest.

“I thoughtyou wanted to braid them,” he murmured, voice teasing, yet laced with contendtiredness. He hadn’t fallen asleep, but he was close. Winding a curl around hisfinger, Thomas tugged lightly and a sound from deep within rose from John’sthroat. It sent a sudden warmth to Thomas’ belly. If he wasn’t already in lovewith John Silver, he was definitely slowly falling for him.

“I thoughtyou doubted my skills.”

Thomas’voice was teasing, but the answer he got was lax and almost a whisper.

“Don’twanna stand up.”

And if thatwasn’t an invitation to move on Thomas didn’t know what. So he parted John’shair into three equal strands, as he had seen Miranda’s maid do hundreds oftimes. His knowledge ended here, however, and he just held the hair loosely,wondering how he was supposed to start. Considering different options, he justplaced some parts in the middle and wrapped the other loose strands around it.His hands, unused to the procedure, felt clumsy and several strands slipped offthe construction. Whatever he was doing, he wasn’t doing it right. But stoppingnow? John felt too warm and relaxed in front of him and Thomas was too selfishto let him go just yet. It was the first time since John had come here thatThomas could really touch him. He ached to touch him. Since the incident in thekitchen when he had cut his thump, it was all Thomas could think about.

“You okay?”John mumbled, and Thomas realized he had stopped doing… whatever he was doing.Smiling, he nodded, just to realize John couldn’t see him.

“Yes, Ijust don’t think this is the right way to braid hair,” he admitted, and Johnchuckled. His whole body vibrated against Thomas’ in a very pleasant, intimateway. Before he could find any words that wouldn’t betray him they heardfootsteps and a voice sounded through the walls.

“Thomas?John?”

“In here,”Thomas answered, and a moment later the door opened to reveal a sun-kissed,ginger-haired beauty. Well, at least that was what James was to Thomas. Theirown seafaring half-god. “Hello darling.”

James’ eyesswept over the picture in front of him. Thomas could see how he took in hisboth lovers, back to chest, in casual clothes, as neither one of them hadplanned to go out today. Someone lesser would have scowled, be jealous even, ormade a snark remark. James just smiled, and Thomas fell for him a little more.He hadn’t revealed yet what he felt for John, wanting to give them time ontheir own. But Thomas knew James wouldn’t mind the least. Actually Thomas wasquite sure James had an inkling, because he loved them both and Thomas loved him.Them. Love revealed a lot, because trust came easy when you loved.

“Hello,”James mused and closed the door behind him as he stepped in. Thomas watched himlean down to kiss John, a sight Thomas would never tire of. They lookedbeautiful together, as if the world had made them to be a pair and maybe theworld had. Without hesitation James repeated the intimacy with him, and Thomassavored the feeling of James’ lips on his own. Maybe the world had made Jamesand him to be a pair, too. Maybe the world was in balance when they were, allthree of them. “You look busy.”

Johnchuckled. “We look desperate.”

“Well,Thomas does,” James said and leaned closer to inspect the handiwork on John’shair. His smile stretched into a grin. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“A braid.”Thomas knew it didn’t look like it and he was not even surprised when Jamessnorted, holding the laughter back but failing.

“If yousquint.”

Johnsmacked James’ arm lightly as a response and a spark lit up the insides ofThomas’ body, igniting a fire. John defended him. Him! It shouldn’t feel asgood as it did. It shouldn’t, yet Thomas couldn’t stop craving the feeling. Hewanted more of it, wanted all of it.

“Don’t talkif you can’t do it better yourself,” John mocked but James didn’t rose to it.Instead he crawled next to Thomas on the bed and made himself comfortable. Histights brushed Thomas’ and to know all three of them were connected gave himgoose-bumps. Sea-green eyes caught his own, and the knowing smirk revealed morethan words could. James had realized what Thomas only started to grasp himself.

“I don’twant to disappoint you, but I actually can,” James stated, and lifted his handto undo whatever it was supposed to be Thomas had done. Before he destroyed theconstruct, however, he stopped mid-air and looked at Thomas. “You okay withit?”

BeforeThomas could answer, John snorted. “Do I have a say in it as well?”

The “no”was said simultaneously from both James and him, and Thomas erupted inlaughter. His hands found John’s hair and undid the first few tangled strands,as a permission for James to go on. Not that he wanted to stop touching John’shair, but he knew it was useless when it came to braiding. So he made room forJames to take over his position. From the side he watched James smooth out thecurls and then start from John’s temples. His fingers run smoothly over thescalp, beginning with little hair and using more with each careful step. Thomaswatched amazed.

“You haveto teach me,” he murmured, and James stopped at the words.

“I can.It’s actually not as hard. It’s like… tying a rope,” James said, which eliciteda huff from John.

“I hope myhair does not look like a rope, thank you very much.”

Thomas hadnever been much of a sailor himself, but he knew that the braid James hadmiraculously created was as far from a rope as a braid could be. In fact, itlooked stunning, because the hairdo accentuated John’s facial features. Hisblue eyes shone even brighter, without any hair hiding them. He was asea-angel, come to live in front of him. Thomas surely was blessed.

“Itdoesn’t,” he murmured as James placed the strands carefully into his hands. “Whatdo I have to do?”

Again,James shifted, until he sat behind Thomas, so he could move his hands with hisown. His voice was soft in his ear. “Get a little more of the loose hair andput the outer strand between the other two.” Thomas did, his hands stillclumsy, but James helped him. “Yes, like this. Now the other side, there yougo. Are you okay, John?” John hummed, and Thomas kept on, pleased he was makingprogress.

It didn’ttake long to finish the braid. James had done most of the work and it wasobvious where Thomas had started, because James’ work was much tidier than his.But it was a braid and when John looked into the mirror and didn’t complain,Thomas heart melted. John looked beautiful and parts of it was his doing. Hefelt strangely proud of himself.

“I thinkyou have to braid my hair tomorrow as well,” John grinned, his blue eyessparkling. Thomas knew there was nothing he would rather do.

Some months later

“What arethe flowers for?” James asked, the moment he spotted Thomas and John walk intothe house, a basket full of flowers in their hands. Their eyes sparkled withmischief and deep in his gut he knew they were up to no good. When John sat onhis lap, rubbing against him like a cat, he knew he was right.

“Surprise,”Thomas said, rounding the chair James was sitting in and sunk his hands intothe ginger mane. Swift fingers loosened the hairband and smoothed the strandsout. Something dawned on James, and he tried to stand up, but couldn’t becauseit would have meant throwing John on the floor and he wasn’t actually thatcruel.

“No,” hedemanded and immediately John pouted.

“Please?”

“No!”

“You’ll geta reward,” Thomas whispered into his ear the same moment John bit into hiscollarbone and a moan escaped James’ throat. It was hard to say no, when he wasoffered such a treat on a silver plate.

“Whatreward?” he asked huskily, and John chuckled, licking and kissing the spot hehad just bitten.

“We’re upfor suggestions,” John said and pressed his groin into James’. At that hiswillpower broke and his hands gripped John’s hips, thrusting up. A gutturalnoise reached his ear, filling him with fire. Not yet, however.

“Turnround. If I get a braid with flowers, you get one, too,” James mused andreached for a deep blue cornflower. It would suit John’s eyes. The rest couldcome later.

#silverflinthamilton #silverflint #hamiltonsilver #flinthamilton #ot3 #black sails #my writing #the world in balance #the world in balance verse #set somewhere in between a truly good man #shortly after the incident with the knife #alightabovethearbys