The boy is 25.
*****
Mathias scrubbed the deck in the blistering sun, his shaggy, dirty blonde hair falling into his deep brown eyes. He shook his head feeling the sweat fly from the ends and land around him. His gaze fell and lingered on Max, who was moving briskly about the ship. The large man would stop to assist a crew member or correct a knot another was tying. His long red braid fell down his back, his thick, unruly beard tossing and turning in the stiff sea wind. Mathias inhaled sharply as the man turned his direction, his gray eye scanning the ship before him. With a frustrated sigh, Mathias shook his head and tried to turn his mind back to scrubbing. His battered mind and body were too tired and confused to function properly. He welcomed the simple task of washing the deck. A bead of sweat snaked down his brow and landed on the deck before him.
What had happened last night? He thought as he watched the droplet of sweat begin to evaporate off the deck. He couldn't believe he had actually fucked Max. He was not interested in men. The abuse he had suffered from the captain had been all forced, but with Max? He growled and scrubbed harder, willing the memory to fade from his mind, but it only came back clearer. His mind frantically jumped from Max and Captain Judge raping him, to Max submitting to him so completely. Those words... Those three little words. Why had Max said those words?
He sat on his haunches to wipe the sweat from his brow and found himself gazing at Max once again. Sweat had soaked Max's white shirt, making it cling to the muscles on his back. His eyes wandered down his strong back to his thick thighs then back up to his ass. That ass.....
Mathias tore his eyes away and went back to scrubbing.
Once the deck was done, he sat down with a rope to mend. He picked at it, trying to draw the job out. A huge shadow fell across him and he looked up into Max's eye. Sweat had soaked the bandana that covered his scarred eye. He leaned down and his large calloused fingers brushed Mathias' as he adjusted the rope he was mending. Mathias recoiled from his touch on instinct.
Max exhaled softly and leaned against the railing of the ship next to Mathias. He began to leisurely roll a cigarette, saying nothing. Mathias could feel the tension and electricity between them. He realized he had stopped breathing. He took a deep breath and the smell of Max consumed him, mint, tobacco, sweat, and the sea. Max exhaled a long thin stream of smoke.
Mathias pretended to fuss with the rope, distracted by the silent man beside him. Max finished his smoke and pushed himself off of the railing. When Mathias refused to acknowledge him he strode away barking orders. Mathias looked up and saw Captain Judge looking ahead through his spyglass. He felt his blood run cold and suddenly wished Max was next to him. His strong presence was comforting.
.....
Mathias struggled with his emotions all day. Having Max lead him to Hell and back had been one thing, but to join in and abuse him with his tormentor? And to have him say... say he loved him? Mathias punched the table he was scrubbing and inhaled sharply as his knuckles began to bleed. A few members of the crew glanced over at him, but returned to their conversation, most of the crew were uninterested in his presence on the ship. He jumped as a large shadow fell across the table.
"I need ta speak wit ye," growled Max softly from behind him. The boy froze wanting to say no, but he knew he couldn't. He followed the man out to the stern. It was unusual for Max to be this close to him in the daylight. His eyes traveled over the weathered face, along the scar running under the bandana, and up again to the gray eye staring at him, burning with pain. Max remained silent, the crashing of the waves behind the ship was drowning out any other sounds. Mathias glared back at him, his jaw set. He had no idea what Max wanted with him out in the daylight like this.
Max blinked and snagged Mathias' bruised and bleeding hand in his much larger, leathery hand. He watched the man glance down at the broken skin and raise it up to his lips. The tender kiss on his knuckles was almost too much to bear. He stared at his blood, now smeared on the other man's lips and started trembling.
"Max, I don't know what I am supposed to do," Mathias whispered. Max nodded once, releasing his hand, stepping to the railing. His large hands gripped the wood as he gazed down at the swirling waters.
"Ye 're going t' 'ave t' trust me." Max finally whispered, looking over at Mathias, his gray eye staring darkly.
Mathias snorted, his lips parting in disbelief.
"Trust you?" he spat. He felt the rage that had been building all day boiling up. "How could I ever trust you again, Max?" His chest tightened and he began to breathe heavily as Max remained calm and emotionless, gazing back out at the sea.
Max pushed himself back from the railing, a frown etched across his brow. "'Haps ye ne'r will. 'N I understan' why."
Mathias was left standing at the back of the ship, a pain in his chest that he did not expect.
.....
Captain Judge was even more drunk than usual. His glazed blue eyes watched the boy like he was a snake waiting to strike him. Mathias stood awkwardly next to the table looking down at the captain. Usually he was barking orders at him and already having his way with his body. Something was wrong.
"YouthinkIsubergerdrunmy," the captain slurred while lifting his hand holding his glass. The glass fell from his hand and spilled over the table, making Mathias jump to clean it up. The captain watched with a smug smirk.
