Pete moves to get around past Izzy and to the door which is a good opportunity to snap that belt of his against the retreating man's thigh, still exposed as he struggles with his britches. Pete yelps and gives a scandalized look back before disappearing faster than you'd think a bloke like him could move.
Izzy barely looks away from Lucius as he does it.
And a lashing is a brave thing to do on a ship full of tortured men. Too close to the bullshit that goes on aboard military ships. Things those men do to men like them.
He would know.
He doesn't stop, doesn't break gate, doesn't break eye contact. Just barrels across the room until he's got his gloved fist at the other man's smug throat. His naked hand holds the belt which he presses up against Lucius' adam's apple as though it were a blade. There's contact this time. Lots of it, chest to chest with weight to pin them against the wall.
"I've had enough of you," he says softly. Which should be a much greater indicator of danger than yelling.
"You're just being cute again, yeah? Is that it? Tell me, mummy didn't love you? Did you get the belt too hard as a boy? Are you so desperate for any attention that you you'd fuck that pig against my bed?"
This should be fucking terrifying. They’re alone, which means that the rest of the crew isn’t here to stand up for him like they usually do. Almost every other time Izzy has lost his shit on him like this, there have at least been witnesses, and Lucius knows his boys would never let any real harm happen to him. So any rational person would be genuinely worrying about what Izzy might be capable of now that they’re alone.
But instead Lucius can’t stop smiling, even as Izzy is desperately trying to cut off his airways. Because seeing the other man this angry just fills Lucius with so much satisfaction that he fucking won.
“Yeah, my mum never liked that I wouldn’t marry a nice girl from a good merchant family and bring respect to our piss poor family. Definitely the entire reason I am the way I am. What’s your excuse, Izzy? So much fucking anger, do you think it’s from the fact you gave your whole life to a bloke who’d rather fuck the first pretty piece of blond ass he come across?”
Is that why he's angry? Maybe. Is he going to divulge that to this worm? Over his dead fucking body. Edward can and will and has fucked whomever he likes. Israel's feelings about the matter aren't a factor. His job, his purpose is to keep his captain content and safe, come Hell or high water. He will always work towards that goal, even if Edward doesn't agree with his methods. At any cost. This crew would do well to take note.
"I am angry because I am tired, and you have nothing better to do than unravel the hem of my jumper," he says and leans in that little bit closer. So close it's intimate. They are well and truly alone and the possibilities are endless. What a shame his blade is in his bunk.
"If you want to die, Mr. Spriggs, I would be more than happy to oblige. All you need to do is ask. But I don't think you do, and I don't think this is all you are. Respect has to be earned. It's work, which you know fuck all about and might be half good at if you tried."
“And what do you think would happen if you killed me? Think Blackbeard would keep you around after you got rid of his boyfriend’s right hand man and personal confidante? He seems like he’s starting to have just about enough of you, Izzy.” The grin is back, looking down at Izzy with all the smugness he can muster. God, he’s so glad he’s tall in moment like this, makes looking down at the angry little man all the more dramatic.
Lucius leans back against the wall, wriggling a little to get comfortable under the press of Izzy’s body. “Do you actually think I’m cute?”
It earns a small snarl but Izzy won't give him the satisfaction of turning the narrative of this discourse.
"You're a pet, Lucius." Seeing as they're using first names and he's tired enough to leave his own rules for a beat.
"Blackbeard doesn't give a wild shit about Bonnet's pets," said as he moves his hand from the other man's neck to toy with the piece of tartan tied around it.
"Wearing pretty little bows like a pussycat. We don't allow pets on ships. And besides, I'm sure you're aware that we're alone. If you went missing no one would know the hows and whys. It's just one less whiny, lazy mouth to feed."
“I’d rather be a pet than a goddamn limpet. People love pets, you’re a fucking parasite.”
Lucius rolls his eyes. Look who still can’t keep his hands off him. He closes his eyes, leaning his head towards Izzy’s hand like the good kitty he is.
“Pete knows we’re in here together, wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who was with me last. Do you think any of this through, Izzy?”
"No one important would care. And if I came in here to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Which should be obvious. His grace has gone unappreciated.
A parasite, though. He'll remember that. From where he's standing, a parasite is something that attaches itself to a host, sucks up whatever it wants, and doesn't contribute. So if we're throwing stones...
The exchange has reached a point where talking more will only make it worse. There may come a larger, more final confrontation but this isn't it.
"Quite frankly, I have more important things to be doing than wasting my breath on you."
He lets go and takes a step back, rolling the belt around his gloved hand. Lucius has gotten the reaction he was apparently after. The game ends now.
"I suggest you go to sleep, Mr. Spriggs. I'll see to it you have a very long, very early day tomorrow."
“What did you come in here to do, then?” Lucius pouts, eyeing that belt in Izzy’s hand. Just come in brandishing that thing around and not even doing anything with it, what a tease.
“If you’re leaving, can you send Pete back in? We didn’t exactly get to finish before.”
If Izzy could roll his eyes any harder they would fall out of his head.
He gives a disgusted, long suffering noise and grabs Lucius again, this time with the intention of frog marching him out of the ballroom. What a waste of space this room is.
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Izzy barely looks away from Lucius as he does it.
And a lashing is a brave thing to do on a ship full of tortured men. Too close to the bullshit that goes on aboard military ships. Things those men do to men like them.
He would know.
He doesn't stop, doesn't break gate, doesn't break eye contact. Just barrels across the room until he's got his gloved fist at the other man's smug throat. His naked hand holds the belt which he presses up against Lucius' adam's apple as though it were a blade. There's contact this time. Lots of it, chest to chest with weight to pin them against the wall.
"I've had enough of you," he says softly. Which should be a much greater indicator of danger than yelling.
"You're just being cute again, yeah? Is that it? Tell me, mummy didn't love you? Did you get the belt too hard as a boy? Are you so desperate for any attention that you you'd fuck that pig against my bed?"
no subject
But instead Lucius can’t stop smiling, even as Izzy is desperately trying to cut off his airways. Because seeing the other man this angry just fills Lucius with so much satisfaction that he fucking won.
“Yeah, my mum never liked that I wouldn’t marry a nice girl from a good merchant family and bring respect to our piss poor family. Definitely the entire reason I am the way I am. What’s your excuse, Izzy? So much fucking anger, do you think it’s from the fact you gave your whole life to a bloke who’d rather fuck the first pretty piece of blond ass he come across?”
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"I am angry because I am tired, and you have nothing better to do than unravel the hem of my jumper," he says and leans in that little bit closer. So close it's intimate. They are well and truly alone and the possibilities are endless. What a shame his blade is in his bunk.
"If you want to die, Mr. Spriggs, I would be more than happy to oblige. All you need to do is ask. But I don't think you do, and I don't think this is all you are. Respect has to be earned. It's work, which you know fuck all about and might be half good at if you tried."
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Lucius leans back against the wall, wriggling a little to get comfortable under the press of Izzy’s body. “Do you actually think I’m cute?”
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"You're a pet, Lucius." Seeing as they're using first names and he's tired enough to leave his own rules for a beat.
"Blackbeard doesn't give a wild shit about Bonnet's pets," said as he moves his hand from the other man's neck to toy with the piece of tartan tied around it.
"Wearing pretty little bows like a pussycat. We don't allow pets on ships. And besides, I'm sure you're aware that we're alone. If you went missing no one would know the hows and whys. It's just one less whiny, lazy mouth to feed."
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Lucius rolls his eyes. Look who still can’t keep his hands off him. He closes his eyes, leaning his head towards Izzy’s hand like the good kitty he is.
“Pete knows we’re in here together, wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who was with me last. Do you think any of this through, Izzy?”
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Which should be obvious. His grace has gone unappreciated.
A parasite, though. He'll remember that. From where he's standing, a parasite is something that attaches itself to a host, sucks up whatever it wants, and doesn't contribute. So if we're throwing stones...
The exchange has reached a point where talking more will only make it worse. There may come a larger, more final confrontation but this isn't it.
"Quite frankly, I have more important things to be doing than wasting my breath on you."
He lets go and takes a step back, rolling the belt around his gloved hand. Lucius has gotten the reaction he was apparently after. The game ends now.
"I suggest you go to sleep, Mr. Spriggs. I'll see to it you have a very long, very early day tomorrow."
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“If you’re leaving, can you send Pete back in? We didn’t exactly get to finish before.”
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He gives a disgusted, long suffering noise and grabs Lucius again, this time with the intention of frog marching him out of the ballroom. What a waste of space this room is.
"Out! Get out, you're done in here."
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“Why, where are you taking me, Mr. Hands?”