perhapstomorrow | The bell has been raised from its watery grave...

That hoarse moan pulls Rook out of his post-bliss coma, coming back to himself with a gasp as he leans in to hold Ulysse through his orgasm, mouthing his neck as he spills himself between them.

Rapid seas and ocean beasts, this man is beautiful. For a while Rook doesn't even notice that his magic has now been tethered to Ulysse while he holds the man and watches him come down from his release.

Eventually, though, eventually it'll have to end and Rook finds himself curiously nudging the thread he feels between them, his magic safely tucked away inside Ulysse. His fingers slowly trace circles onto Ulysse's back as he stares right back into those dark eyes.

"I'm yours, huh?" he asks after a moment. And before Ulysse can deny what he said, speaking over him if he tries, Rook goes on: "And you're mine."

Ulysse had been ready to assure Rook he didn't have to take the words to heart, to insist it was just something said in the heat of the moment, just in case the mage took offense to the claim, but the last words shut him up effectively. As he feels those fingers and droplets of water slowly run down his still too warm skin, he stares down at Rook, expression calm and collected as always, as though he hadn't just finished riding out an intense orgasm.

That tether Rook's put between them thrums warm and steady like it's always belonged there.

He cocks his head slightly to one side, examining the mage's face, fingers absently tracing his features, asking quietly, "Does that bother you...?"

"No." The reply is immediate and just as simple and bold as anything the mage tends to say, as if inviting Ulysse to disagree, to fight him over the matter.

Rook has learned to live his life hard and fast, getting used to changes. And while this is a change that does challenge him quite a bit, he doesn't let it show on the surface. It's not that he doesn't trust Ulysse, or that he is already putting fences between them - he's not, surprisingly enough - he's just learned that he gains absolutely nothing by whining and fretting.

"It's new," he says as he finally leans back, bringing Ulysse with him as he lays back on the bed, the man held firmly against his chest. He looks up at those dark eyes that are far too calm to be completely honest with him. "Does it bother you?"

The change in position makes Ulysse's breath catch as he feels Rook's gradually softening cock shift in him, but he settles over the mage's front, crossing his arms over the tanned chest, propping his chin on his wrists as he stares down at Rook's face. He doesn't answer immediately, turning the thought over in his head, assessing how he feels in regards to 'belonging' to someone, and having that same someone belong to him in turn.

"... Not as much as I feel it should," he finally answers. "But... it's not as though we're owning each other, so that might be why it's not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be."

"No one owns me or you." The words come out sharp and rough, like rocks ground against one another. The look in Rook's eye is fierce and relentless. He doesn't negotiate about this.

But he relaxes as Ulysse continues, his body relaxed and tone thoughtful instead of teasing or mocking.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks quietly as he lifts his arms, folding one of them under his head as a pillow and the other to thread through Ulysse's hair, gently untangling locks as he goes.

"I've been asking you the same all night."

Ulysse smiles a bit, turning his head to hide his lips against Rook's hand, pressing a warm kiss to the mage's rough palm. Then he trails lingering kisses along the meat of that palm, down to a scarred wrist, nuzzling at the pulse point, eyes closed as he rests his cheek into the cradle of that hand.

"You're the mage, after all."

"I've realised it's a valid question," Rook replies with a soft snort as he cups Ulysse's cheek within his palm and brushes his thumb across the man's lips.

Still, he doesn't feel like there's a need for him to rush up and leave, to put distance between the two of them. This is a new kind of situation all over and for some reason it doesn't make him cautious, doesn't make him suspicious. Instead, he's more relaxed than he's been in ages, maybe for the past decade or so.

"Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, though?" he asks quietly, his voice gone softer even than before, carrying a distinct sense of tenderness that he's wholly unfamiliar with. "What is that thing that's inside you?"

There's no denying that Ulysse had expected this to come up sooner rather than later. He doesn't stall, per se, but he doesn't answer immediately, casting his eyes down instead towards Rook's collarbone, running his fingertips along the thin layer of flesh covering the sharp wings of those bones.

"It's an ocean spirit, and... that's as much as I know," he admits, voice just as quiet. His eyes flick up, meeting Rook's gaze, and he shrugs helplessly. "It doesn't speak to me. I can... sense what it's feeling, but not it's thoughts. It generally only comes out when I'm in extreme danger, but otherwise... I don't even know how it got in me, or why."

Right, past forgotten. Rook watches him with hooded eyes as he struggles out the facts and they aren't plentiful. It also makes sense, all of it. Ocean is a possessive lover when she has you in her clutches.

"Do you want me to ask her?" he asks quietly, his fingers trailing down to Ulysse's back where sweat and water is drying on his warm skin.

Ulysse's smile is faint and he shakes his head, spine shifting and shivering under the gentle touch.

"I can't just bring it out," he explains, resting his cheek on Rook's chest. "And it's not usually that talkative."

He did say to Rook earlier that same day:

"You're special."

Rook rolls his eyes but there's fondness in his soft snort. His fingers keep chasing those little shivers that run down along Ulysse's back, petting him like he were the cat that Rook often imagines him as.

"If I'm that special, she'll come out to talk with me," he predicts. She had healed him earlier, she had made sure both of them were alive after she drowned those pirates.

"Should I be offended that you seem more interested in speaking to the spirit than to me?" Ulysse teases with mock archness, glancing back up to Rook's face. There's no denying he's enjoying those stroking touches along his back, spine arching a bit, making the softening cock shift inside of him and drawing a soft little sigh from Ulysse's lips.

Rook would rather just stay inside him but unfortunately it's not going to be possible. For the moment, though, he shifts his hips to push a little further in while he still can.

Ulysse's teasing makes him roll his eyes again before he leans in and presses a warm, closed mouthed kiss to Ulysse's forehead.

"Your math is faulted, princess," he murmurs against that smooth forehead.

The darker man chuckles quietly and tilts his head up to catch those lips in a warm, lingering kiss. There's the distant rumble of thunder that catches Ulysse's attention, and then he's turning his head, glancing over towards the window.

"... You didn't accidentally call a storm, did you?"

Rook tilts his head back to look at the window as well. Droplets of rain are already beating against the glass.

Maybe he did?

"We'll be fine at the harbour," he says as he presses his mouth to Ulysse's jaw, mouthing the tip of his chin through that trimmed beard.

There's a soft snort even as Ulysse tilts his head, baring his jaw to that warm mouth. "If our captain is raging in the morning because of the ship being water-logged, I'll be careful not to look at you. You know how he gets around mages."

"It's a good ship, it'll be fine," Rook snorts right back and then he wraps his arms around Ulysse's waist, flipping him over onto his back and rolls on top of him, settling between his legs as he props himself up with one elbow, most of his weight on Ulysse.

"You would lie to our captain for me?" he teases.

Ulysse doesn't resist being rolled over and smiles up at the mage, eyes dancing with good humor. His hand runs up along Rook's shoulder, stroking his hair back, rubbing over his shoulder blade.

"You think I haven't lied to him before?" he points out with a mock arch huff. "I assure you, I've neglected to tell him many things in the past."

"Is that so?" Rook snorts as he settles with his elbows on both sides of Ulysse's head, leaning down with their noses almost touching.

"That makes you sound somewhat manipulative," he points out in a low tone of voice, his brows arching slowly.

"The word you're looking for is 'cautious'," Ulysse retorts, reaching up to smooth Rook's hair back over his shoulders. "I don't have any super powers to rely on should things go South. Only my blades and wits. The spirit in me hardly cares if I get beaten, shot or even raped, so long as I survive. While not everyone is out to do me harm, of course I resort to manipulation to avoid sticky situations."

"Oh, that's what we're calling it," Rook replies with a sharp little twitch at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his cheek into Ulysse's hand and brushes that clinking gold away from the man's wrist with his nose so he can kiss the sensitive skin there.

There's a quick flash of white teeth as Ulysse gives the mage one of his rare grins and his fingers twitch by Rook's cheek as his wrist is kissed at.

"Semantics are important."

His knees lift, thighs lightly squeezing Rook's hips to just cradle him there. It's still somehow soft and sweet rather than a filthy invitation for more, which is... still surprising.

Pleasantly so.

"Aha." Rook nods as if what Ulysse said made a lot of sense. It doesn't. Semantics tend to be the last thing he worries about.

"I think our captain might not agree," he says then, teasingly while he slips one of his hands down to grab Ulysse's thigh, not to push it or pull it, just help him settle against Rook's side.

"That's because Grey often doesn't know how to be subtle to save his life," Ulysse points out with a quiet snort. "He's tall, dark and moody, and as blunt as a hammer."

Stroking along Rook's spine, he keeps gazing up with hooded eyes. "Does it bother you? That I might be a bit manipulative...?"

"No." The answer is as easy and immediate as the ones before it. Rook isn't much more subtle than Grey is to be honest. The the point and lacking of any concern over other people's opinions.

"As long as you don't lie to me," he says and reaches up to tuck a few locks of hair behind Ulysse's ear.

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