Confessions

Wesley closed his eyes as Valentine leaned forward and connected their lips softly. His stomach dipped down to his toes at the combination of dread, anxiety, and excitement that swirled through him. Wesley wasn't sure what he was doing—or rather why he was doing it. This was a dangerous game to be playing, especially knowing the pirate would die soon. He shouldn't be getting attached, but gods be damned if Valentine didn't make that nearly impossible.

When Valentine pulled away after only a moment of the kiss, Wesley opened his eyes in confusion. He had expected something lustful and passionate. The brief, tender brush of their lips caught him off guard, and it left him feeling a bit empty. Like something was missing.

The pirate's gaze was soft and saddened as he studied every detail of Wesley's face, as if memorizing it. When their eyes met, Valentine gave his mate a small effortful smile, for he felt as if his whole face was being weighed down by grief and regret. For nearly his whole life, Valentine had been prepared to die. He had made his peace with death long ago, and it no longer scared him as it did when he was a boy. However, he thought it a cruel coincidence that he had found something worth living for just in time to die. The thought of never seeing Wesley again hurt more than any blade ever could. His soul ached at the thought, and the more he thought about leaving, the more it felt as though a hand had wrapped its fingers around his heart and was slowly squeezing the life out of it.

"Thank you," he whispered, pouring so much more meaning into the words than Wesley could ever understand.

The merchant's blue eyes were stormy as he forced himself to look away. The air between them was heavy, and he was finding it harder to breathe under its weight. Instead of Valentine's eyes, which he was sure would melt him, Wesley focused on the other man's shoulder where it resided just above the surface of the water. Without thinking, he reached forward to gently run his fingers over the magic-born black ink that now encased the entirety of the pirate's arm.

"Why does it grow?" he asked softly, tracing the tips of the furthest tendrils as they curled over the edge of Valentine's collarbone.

The pirate swallowed the lump in his throat as he glanced down at where the merchant touched his skin. "It's a countdown," he said numbly.

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked, his brows furrowing as he looked at the afflicted skin again.

"When it reaches my heart, I'm out of time."

Wesley's fingers slid the short distance down to where Valentine's heart resided. Fear for the inevitable constricted his throat and made him feel as though he was being strangled all over again.

"H-how long do you have?" his voice was barely audible, but Valentine still heard it crack.

"A day," he said softly. "Maybe two."

Wesley's vision blurred as moisture pooled in his eyes. He quickly closed them as he fought to maintain his composure. Right then and there, he made a vow that he would not cry over this. He couldn't. Crying for his crew's killer would feel like a betrayal when he hadn't even cried for his crew. Gods, he felt like a horrible person, but he couldn't help it. Despite everything, he wasn't ready for this.

"There must be something you can do," he said, his voice thick. "W-what if you kill it? Before it kills you."

"It's impossible, Wesley," Valentine shot down his suggestion softly, reaching up to gently caress his mate's jaw. "I can't just hide on the island either. Once it arrives, I'll be drawn to it like you were to me when I sang for you."

"I-I could tie you to a tree or something," Wesley offered. All he'd wanted since he met Valentine was for the man to die, but now that it was coming, he changed his mind. Maybe he was being selfish, but Wesley didn't want to be alone. He was just starting to like the pirate, and he feared that with Valentine dead, he might go mad marooned on the island. He didn't feel as though his heart could take it either. He knew he didn't love Valentine, but he could tell that what the pirate spoke of was true. There was a connection between them—something magical and sweet and good—that drew them together despite their best efforts to be apart.

Valentine smirked, a brief sparkle in his eye due to a rogue thought.

"Though I certainly wouldn't mind being tied up by you," he teased, "it would only be delaying the inevitable."

Wesley didn't have the heart to glare at him for the innuendo. His hope was vanishing rapidly. "Is there really no other way?"

"None," the pirate said softly.

Wesley floated in quiet contemplation, unsure of how to make sense of his thoughts and feelings. After some time, he somehow found the will to speak again.

"Val?" Lavender eyes locked with blue. "Do you love me?"

He probably shouldn't have asked, but Wesley wanted to know. Valentine said they were soulmates, and he wanted to know how deep that connection had been building on Valentine's end. If he was going to die anyway, then what would be the harm in admitting it?

"If monsters are capable of love," he said after a few moments of introspection, "then yes, that is what I feel."

Wesley's heart stuttered at the information, and he decided that honesty couldn't hurt now.

"I don't love you," he began, "but I think I could've. In another life. Or maybe just in time."

"You don't owe me an explanation, Wes," the pirate said.

"But I want to give you one," Wesley breathed, "Because if I don't get it off my chest now, I never will."

Valentine hesitated, but then nodded at the other man to continue.

"I think you're attractive. Your eyes are incredible. Your tail is too. Even your scars are beautiful," Wesley face was beginning to turn red from his confessions, but he pushed himself to continue. "I hate what you did, but I don't think I hate you as a person. You've shown me that you're not a complete monster since we landed on this island. I was a hypocrite to call you one when I'm no saint myself. I personally killed two of your crew members during the raid when you didn't even draw your sword. You may have given the orders but you were not the one to hold the blades that killed my men. I believe in time I might've been able to forgive you."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," Valentine interrupted. "And you're not a monster, Wes."

Wesley ignored him.

"I am fascinated by you. By what you are and who you are and what you can do. You're unlike anyone I've ever met before and that's exhilarating to me."

When Wesley paused and gazed upon Valentine's face, the pirate asked, "Anything else?"

"I... I was hoping for a little more than what you gave when you kissed me earlier."

A smile tugged on Valentine's lips. "My mistake," he said. "I can fix it if you'd like."

Wesley was flushed completely red at that point. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but it felt good to tell the truth. He'd probably be mortified about it later, but for now he didn't care. In a few days, he'd be the only one alive who knew what he had said.

Slowly, he nodded, and as Valentine leaned in, he found himself leaning in too.

Maybe it was selfish, but knowing Valentine was going to die gave Wesley the security he needed to give in to this moment. No one would know but him. It would be his secret.

Valentine allowed his tail to take form again as he used Wesley as an anchor against the current instead of his own legs. He clung to the man as their lips met and Wesley's arms moved to hold him in place on their own. Wesley's whole body felt like it was buzzing. He felt weightless in that moment, but the arms around him managed to keep him tethered.

The siren deepened the kiss easily, nipping and tugging at Wesley's lower lip for an intoxicating few moments before his lips moved to explore the man's jaw. His lips brushed against stubble as they migrated towards the merchant's ear. There he sucked his mate's earlobe into his mouth and tugged on it lightly with his teeth. Heat spread through Wesley's body in a wave at the sensation, and when Valentine teased the soft spot just under Wesley's ear, the merchant's toes curled.

A suppressed moan managed to slip past the Wesley's lips and Valentine noticed.

"Don't hold back," He said lowly in the man's ear. "I'm the only one who can hear you, and I quite enjoy the sound."

"It's embarrassing," he complained.

"It's endearing," Valentine corrected.

"What else do you find endearing?" Wesley asked, breathless.

Valentine smirked and connected their lips again. He dragged Wesley's bottom lip lightly through his teeth as he pulled away after a few blissful moments to say, "Your eyes remind me of the open ocean and they're more expressive than any I've ever seen before. They darken like storm clouds when you're angry or lustful, and they become light and wild when you're happy or curious."

He then kissed along Wesley's cheeks. "I love your freckles and how easily you blush. I love the dimple you only get on your left cheek when you smile."

He kissed down Wesley's neck, cautious and gentle around the bruises he sustained from the crazed marooner's attack. "I love your stubbornness and your sense of right and wrong. I love that you see and embody the goodness in the world. I love how curious you are when it comes to my world and how easy you are to talk to when you're not pissed at me."

Valentine let his hand roam across Wesley's chest as he said, "I'm also quite endeared by your body, Mr. Roberts, and by the feel of things, it seems the endearment is mutual."

A blush flooded Wesley's face, even coloring the tips of his ears.

"Yes, you seem to have created a bit of a problem," he muttered.

Valentine smirked, "I can fix that too, if you'd like."

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A/N

If you were a character in a story, which type of character would you be? (Main, supporting, mentor, antagonist, side, antihero, love interest, etc.) I would definitely be a mentor to the main protagonist. Hopefully that role would also come with some magic because my life ambition is to be some mixture of "Gandalf" and "the cool aunt."

See you Wednesday,

-Mora Montgomery