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They’d both had something to discuss with their respective captains. Lucius had come first, knocking, realizing, and ultimately waiting for them to be done with It, perching on the edge of one of Stede’s many chaises, with legs crossed, Stede’s journal against his lap, and arms folded haphazardly over that.
He’d been sat there debating if he might make his presence more obvious to the men in charge when Izzy Hands had stormed into the chamber, black-gloved hand raised to knock against the door. Lucius didn’t even have a second to warn him that his efforts would be wasted.
And then, from behind sturdy wooden walls, there was a moan.
It was hard to say which of the captains it had been, guttural enough that it could have been in either’s voice. But either way, the sound caused Israel’s face to grow pale, for his eternally disgruntled expression to melt into something more crestfallen.
Lucius watched as he attempted to compose himself in the following not-so-silent silence, jolting at the muffled throes bleeding through the crack of the doorway.
When he finally shook himself out of it, he spun forcibly on his heels. Lucius tried to make himself small. But then, of course, doing that meant he moved , and Israel caught the movement, head spinning like an owl; not in a cute way but in a "you forget, but owls are actually vicious predators" way, and if Lucius squeaked like a mouse underneath his eye it was only fitting.
"Oh!" he folded his journal up against his chest protectively. "What are the odds." He gave a grimacing smile.
Israel squinted harder. Lucius could see something swimming behind those eyes, something like pain. His jaw ticked, and his hands clenched at his sides.
When he finally spoke, his wispy timbre did not betray his emotions. "The odds are quite high, I'd imagine."
He stalked to the same couch Lucius sat on, and barely gave the scribe enough time to scoot to one side. He is splayed in a position which took up far more of the couch than necessary for a man of his stature. His legs sprawled, and his arm bent against the couch’s back. He folded his hand against his jaw, before fitting his thumbnail between his teeth, chewing on it as he waited.
And they waited. Every time sound eeked from the Captain's quarters, Israel's shoulders hiked, and a sneer decorated his features. It was not the response of a prudish crew member, but something more intense. Lucius, not having half the same feelings for his own captain in this predicament, could only sympathize so much.
He tried to imagine… Well, he tried not to imagine Stede and Blackbeard tangled against one another, only a room away. Tried then, to swap out Stede with Israel.
He couldn't see it. They dressed the same, sure. They had the same bloodthirsty tenacity, too. But for all his heart he couldn't imagine Ed's eyes falling on poor Dizzy Izzy the way they fell on Stede.
He spared a glance at Israel, who'd begun cleaning out the underside of his shoe with a dagger. How long had they worked together, how long had Israel felt hope before Stede had come to knock down his dreams?
He couldn't bite his tongue. "You know," he murmured conspiratorially.
And then Israel was on top of him, and a dagger was at his throat.
"You fucking shut the fuck up."
Frantically, Lucien nodded.
"Whatever you think you saw you didn't see shit."
He nodded harder.
Slowly, Israel retracted back to his side of the couch.
And he was pouting. Lucius couldn't help it.
"I just think--"
"Fucks sake," Izzy threw his arms in the air, dropping his weapon with a clatter.
"Well you seem so stoic that it was surprising, that's all," Lucius babbled. Knife cast aside, he suddenly felt a lot less afraid of Izzy, leaning into his space even as he edged away.
"A soft side," he finished.
Blood bloomed in Israel's cheeks, at that. He side-eyed Lucius, looked away. He forced his eyes on the wall as he seemed to debate whether to speak at all.
"I've… always known." He grumbled.
Lucius hummed. "Still hurts, though."
"Like a fuckin' knife to the gut, it does."
Something melted in Israel's shoulders, and then his hands were running through his salt-and-pepper hair, and his head was in his hands. Lucius wrapped his arms around him, and maybe the curve of his back was heaving a little too much to be anything but sobs.
And then the door opened, and they scrambled apart. Izzy scrubbed at his face and suddenly he'd hardened again. Lucius stared, and debated if it had all been an elaborate fantasy brought on by the droll wait.
Blackbeard came out shirtless, beard and hair a cloud around him. A sweat sheen coated his chest and arms, deepening the black ink details which covered his skin.
Israel took him in, and made a pained noise.
Not a fiction, then.
But when Izzy stood to meet his captain, their transaction was business-like. Lucius couldn't help a sad smile.
Lucius was eating from a charcuterie board when suddenly Israel fell into the chair across from him, and he screamed.
"Enough of that," Israel hissed, immediately perturbed.
Lucius was choking on a slice of salami.
Though he didn't offer any help, Israel waited patiently for the coughing fit to end.
"Just… didn't expect you." he managed between hacking coughs.
He wondered what this must be about. Despite their parallel positions, they rarely spoke.
Israel took a block of cheese from the board, rolling it in his fingers so that it dusted the tablecloth in fine eggshell crumbs. Though he'd appeared so brazenly, given the turn to speak he seemed hesitant.
It was this out of character hesitancy that caused Lucius to remember that Israel had a crush on Blackbeard, and that he was most likely the only person on the Revenge who knew.
"Is this about--"
"No shit it is." Izzy flicked the remaining cheese from his fingertips, pressing one between his teeth to scrape off the oily remains.
Lucius didn't know what to say. He very much liked this side of Blackbeard's crewman, he decided. Still, he was hardly equipped to handle a madman's broken heart. As if that had ever stopped him from trying.
He drank from a tankard of water. "I can sketch you, or listen, whatever you think might help your situation."
A flicker of a smile donned the older man's face, then, curling around the thumb which he still chewed.
"I had a fucked up idea I wanted to run by you,"
"Go ahead," Lucius prepared a few steady reminders that killing Stede wouldn't make Ed love him back.
"I thought I might fuck him out of my system."
Lucius gaped.
Time breathed between them. Lucius watched as Israel's nervous smile morphed into a grimace, back to his usual steely veneer. He pressed his palms against the table.
"Fuck, forget I said it."
"Wait," Lucius choked out, "sure, but, I must be mistaken, I thought you were meaning, like, you wanted to fuck me,"
Izzy flushed red.
Lucius gasped. "Wait, for real?"
"Fucking forget it."
Israel stood from the table and stormed out of the room.
As he stepped into the sunshine of the deck, Lucius could see that his ears had turned pink, too.