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Watching You	By : Crystalwren Category: G through L > Horatio Hornblower Views: 1560 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Horatio Hornblower, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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'Hornblower' was created by C.S. Forester and licensed by A&E.

WATCHING YOU II- PELLEW

He is, quite simply, the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

When he is lying in my bed, asleep, sprawled out like a wanton Greek god with his hair loose and fanned across my pillow, I know that I am as close to perfection as a flawed mortal man like myself is ever likely to get. And I know that I am flawed; for all my crew looks to me for their lives, for all the lives I have taken, for all the battles I have won or lost, I am simply a man with a man�s weaknesses. And my biggest weakness is Archibald Kennedy.

Please believe me, I fought it for the longest time- oh, how I fought. I fought the almost overwhelming urge to follow him, undress him with my eyes, to take him into my cabin and make him mine. I did try. But in the end I�m only a man, Mr Hornblower, a frail, weak mortal man. And faced with such temptation, my weaknesses have overwhelmed me and I have been lost. I have sold my soul for the possession of another, but I cannot regret. God forgive me, I cannot.

I didn�t notice him at first; I saw him as just another Midshipman, another man, a boy really, in His Majesty�s Royal Navy. Well, perhaps that is not precisely true. I thought of him as perhaps a source of trouble on my ship, arriving as he did among the ill disciplined and poorly trained rabble from the Justinian. Indeed, double-damned in my mind, first for originating from that unlucky vessel, second for being the close friend of you, Mr Hornblower. I was certain you were trouble, and I made doubly certain to keep my eye on you.

You have proved me wrong.

Of all the young men who have served under me, you are by far the one most likely to become great in the annals of the British Navy. As time went on, it became apparent to me that this was so. I knew you were destined for greatness. I have groomed you, instructed you, tried my best to impart to you some of the knowledge and, dare I say, wisdom that I have gathered in my years of service. So proud was I of you and your accomplishments, I began to watch you in earnest. And it was then that I began to notice him. Midshipman Archibald Kennedy, your friend, young, strong, and oh so very beautiful. I can remember the first time I noticed him as something other than a faceless figure, so vividly. It is when you were both off watch, standing on deck and looking over the ocean. You turned to him and spoke something and he laughed, throwing his head back and showing off the perfect lines of his throat, red-blond hair whipping around his face. I remember being startled by the sudden irrational desire to kiss that throat, to bite it gently in love play as I gathered that soft, wild hair in my hands. And I remember being instantly horrified, because this man wasn�t a man, he was barely more than a boy! A boy under my service and in my care, something that it is my duty to protect, not to prey upon. So I throttled the thought, strangled it, smothered it, buried deeply it within the darkest recesses of my mind.

But it would not go away.

Indeed, as my own respect for you slowly grew into something resembling paternal pride, I found myself noticing him more and more. As I instructed you, tried to teach you what I knew, he was always there in the background, hovering respectfully at a distance and looking at us both with cold blue eyes. Indeed, the more I spoke to you the colder his gaze became until I found myself wondering whether it was jealousy, jealousy because of the attention I granted you. For a time I harboured the wild, irrational hope that maybe he wanted me in turn, but I soon dismissed this fond fantasy. It is for certain that he tried to draw my focus to himself, but once it was there he did not appear to want it, his whole manner becoming as chill as the ice that froze his face. Whenever I found myself looking for him I found him by your side, staring at me out of the corner of his eye, angry, resentful.

You, of course, had no idea that anything was wrong.

This went on for some time. If I wanted to see him I had only to look for you because I knew he would be there. And for a time, looking was enough. I knew that I could never have him, and to my pride, I never tried to bring him to me. My weakness remained something that only I was aware of, a fact that soothed my fevered mind, fevered with fantasies of him. Until a night came when the presence of someone standing at my cabin door was announced by the rapping sound of knuckle on wood, and God help me, that someone was he. Enough remained of my tattered pride to beckon him in with the aplomb and self importance that a Captain is supposed to possess, and to rather coldly inquire why he had dared disturb me at this hour. And he looked at me down that snub nose of his and told me that it was about you.

I know you want him, he said. I know that you undress him with your eyes. I know what you have planned for him, and I want to save him.

As I sat there with my mouth agape, speechless for the first time in years he outlined his �compromise�. He planned to substitute himself for you, to give himself in your place. I was mystified, trying to understand his words. Then my understanding slowly dawned. He thought that you were the one I wanted, the one I was dreaming of, the one I desired.

He thought I was watching you!

I could not help myself. I threw my head back and laughed out loud, and I saw the fair skin of his face flush with anger and embarrassment. He ground his teeth and rushed to the door, and I was barely fast enough to prevent his escape. I wrapped my hands around his upper arms, feeling the solid muscle jump beneath my fingertip, realising dimly that this boy was not really a boy but a man grown and strong, and I kissed him. Kissed him hard and kissed him soft, putting all my pent up emotions, my desire and frustration into that kiss. He accepted the kiss but did not return it, his eyes closed and a single tear trickling down his cheek. I wiped it away, and lead him by the hand to bunk. I sat him down and I knelt before him. I told him that it was not you I wanted. It never had been. I told him that you were as important to me as my own son- paternal love, full of pride, but ultimately sexless. I told him that it was he I had been watching. Him and no other. I told him that he was beautiful. I told him that he was desirable. I told him that I wanted him.

He turned his face away from me as I spoke. My words gradually faltered and stopped entirely, and I continued to gaze up at him in hope. He was near, so near to me, I could not stop myself. He smelled of clean soap and sea-salt. I placed a hand on his thigh- he jumped but otherwise remained still. I rested my hand there for a second, and he shuddered but did not push me away. Then I began to slide my hand ever so gently towards his groin, and when I reached my target he gasped and arched his back. Using all my skill, I kissed and caressed him until he relaxed in my arms, until he began to moan sweetly, until his fear of me and other men ebbed and the pleasure truly began for him.

That night, I made him mine.

As he sleeps in my bed, his lips bruised from my kisses, I cannot find it in my heart to regret my actions. He is too young, yes, a man who was but recently a boy, but he is still a man. And he may not be disposed by nature to be a lover of fellow men, but I have not mistreated him. I know he has been hurt. I have seen the scars with my own eyes, and I know better than to even lay beside him when he is asleep, let alone try to caress him. I know that that either will provoke a violent and unthinking reaction from him that he cannot control. And I have found that he simply will not take certain positions during lovemaking, no matter how much I urge him. I do not want to know any more about it. I know that if I ever do learn the name of his attacker I would be forced to hunt the scum down and punish him, and I know that that would raise questions, uncomfortable questions that I could not face lest my answer doom both my lover and myself. The world will tear us apart soon enough, and it is my wish to delay that parting for as long as I am able.

You must never learn of this. I know that as a young, idealistic man, enthusiastic in the service of your King and Navy you would have difficulties understanding what I feel for Archibald Kennedy. But I do care for him, in truth I do. And I know that in turn, he cares for you. This is why I have forbidden him ever to speak of what we have together, not to anyone and especially not you. I have seen the distaste in yours eyes and your face whenever love between two men is brought up in your presence. You cannot even make light of it as your shipmates do, such is your disgust. I am unable to foretell what your reaction would be should you learn of what Archie and I share, but I know that it would be violent and ugly. I know you would not, could not understand. Better you should never learn at all.

I know that he is not entirely happy with me. This kind of lovemaking is not part of his nature as it is mine. Perhaps it is the abuse he suffered before he came to me or perhaps he fears the ever-present risk of being caught. Whatever the reason may be there is something preventing him from completely enjoying my attentions. There is something that stops him from abandoning himself to me, from loosing himself utterly in my kisses. There is a voice deep inside of me that says it would be best to let him go, but I cannot do that. I have worked so hard for all of my life in service for others. Is it so hard to believe that maybe I might want something from the world in return? I want him. I want to watch over him as he sleeps. I want to keep him close and make love to him all night and all day. I want him to care for me. I want him to dream about me when I am not with him.

I want Archie to love me as much as I love him.

END OF PART TWO
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