[fic] Jack Aubrey Read the Room Wrong
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hmsloop_hotspurThis story has two endings. The first features Bush's canon ending. The second presumes that It didn't happen. I'm going to post both endings so you can skip to whichever you prefer or you can read both.
This story features Jack Aubrey as a main character - but you don't need to know anything about O'Brian's character to read it. It can be read as a 3rd person narrator observing Bush and Hornblower. The pairings are stated below. This is definitely an unrequited/pining fic, but the second ending features a happy-ish ending.
As for how it fits the prompt? Jack comforts Hornblower and Bush each to their own needs in his own way?
Title: Jack Aubrey read the Room Wrong
Pairing: Jack Aubrey/William Bush, Jack Aubrey/Horatio Hornblower
Rating: M
Bush’s affection for Hornblower was clear although the man’s deportment was strictly professional and precise. But Hornblower’s? No it was Hornblower’s affection for Bush that he entirely failed to see.
He had met Hornblower a time or two, and there was just something about the passionate and brilliant man hiding behind the shy and reserved exterior. He longed to get him into his bed and had imagined what that would be like to very satisfactory effect on his own more than once.
Bush, on the other hand, had been very businesslike about his pleasure - no less satisfactory, but perhaps would be better described as perfunctory. There was a simple negotiation, a hard fucking (twice), and a friendly exchange of pleasantries. Aubrey was a stand-in for no one in that encounter and a mutual good time was had by all but that was the entirety of it.
Hornblower on the other hand.
When Aubrey finally had Hornblower in his bed he thanked his own god and Stephen's papist one that he had not had the opportunity to bed him earlier.
He would not have appreciated the gift that had been given to him. Hornblower was not inexperienced, which was a relief, because Aubrey had no interest in fucking virgins. No, Hornblower knew what he wanted and how he wanted it, but there was something more there. The man simply came undone and that was too precious of a gift for the blundering fool that Jack once was.
He was thankful that the first time he had Hornblower was in a bed in a sunny guest room at the admiral's estate and that the staff were well trained enough to look the other way - no marine outside to worry about, steward who might walk in, or shipmate that realized where you snuck off to together if you managed to catch a moment in port together.
He Hornblower had naked and spread out underneath him, writhing and gasping and so delicious Aubrey could cry from the sheer joy of it. He very nearly did.
It took him an obscenely long time to realize that although Hornblower was perfectly aware that it was Jack Aubrey that was fucking him hard and steady into the fresh linen sheets of the bed, that it was Jack Aubrey that had pushed his legs wide, grabbed his hips, pulled him up, and slid into him slowly and inexorably, that it was Jack Aubrey's prick that was making him clench the bedstead until his fingers turned white, that made him groan and pant and gasp and yelp in pleasure, that it was not Jack Aubrey who Hornblower wanted to be doing those things.
Oh, Jack was quite sure that there was no cuckhold or spurned lover out there. No, Jack was not there in Hornblower's bed despite someone else, Jack was experiencing the divine pleasure of fucking Horatio Hornblower because he was someone else. He'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt, the realization that although Hornblower was happy to be had by Jack, Jack was merely the stand-in. But it only hurt for a moment, because if Hornblower wanted to be fucked by that other man, Jack pitied whoever the idiot was, but he was certainly not going regret having the opportunity to have Hornblower in his bed just because someone else couldn't figure out Hornblower wanted him there instead of Jack. And it was a him, Jack knew, from the way that Hornblower surrendered to him in bed; it couldn't be anyone but a him.
It was warm, bordering on hot, and there was a party in full swing downstairs. Jack and Hornblower wouldn't be missed before they had a chance to return, so Jack took the time to luxuriate in the summer breeze in through the open windows and entertain a thought of round two. Jack smoked his cigarillo as Hornblower lay in the bed beside him, dazed and half asleep, modest enough to have pulled a sheet over his lower half, but un-selfconscious enough to not immediately rise, dress, and slink out of the room as if he had done something wrong.
Jack was pretty sure the only wrong they had both committed was adultery, as he didn't go much in for sodomy being a sin despite what the Navy said. Bad for discipline? Sure. A nuisance when the boys were bothered with it? Absolutely. But hardly any more a sin than any other vice a sailor might have.
He considered Hornblower: pale, just on this side of too thin, but wiry and lithe. He had a certain grace for all his clumsiness and Jack had certainly understood his appeal once he had got him on his cock.
"You up for another go?" Jack asked after a few minutes.
Hornblower grunted. It could have been a yes or a no, but Jack let it lie, content to simply enjoy the feeling.
They did end up having another go. Not that afternoon, but the party had stretched on - the next day those that fancied it went hunting and those that didn't partook in some shooting. Jack situated himself next to Hornblower in the hopes that he'd be receptive to Jack's advances.
He was, late that night after dinner and long after Hornblower had cleaned everyone's pockets out at whist, Jack had once again had him in his bed. This time it was in the dark, to candlelight and the shadows in start relief against Hornblower's angles and edges. If Jack had had any doubt in his mind that he was a stand in for someone else, it would have been dispelled tonight. There was a desperation in Hornblower as he took Jack's cock. He kept his eyes closed as he took and took and took from Jack. Jack was more than happy to give, but there was a bittersweetness to it too, a sadness, and Jack wondered for a moment if the idiot was in fact Hornblower himself.
Either way, it didn't matter. They both knew what they wanted out of the other and both were willing to give it.
It was only a few months later that Jack ran into Bush in Sheerness. Flush with prize money and pride, Jack invited the man out for a drink. One drink turned into dinner, then another drink, then a walk back to Bush's small house near the docks. Then another drink and finally with much good cheer and laughter, into Bush's bed.
It was just as satisfactory as before. Bush knew what he was about and was a generous and affectionate lover. His back was crossed with scars, new since Jack had last seen him years and years before.
"A Spanish sword," Bush supplied as Jack traced one long slice.
"You're lucky you didn't die," Jack responded.
Bush shrugged.
"Shall we have another go?" he asked. Jack nodded. He was up for it and clearly Bush was too. He flashed back to another night, not too long ago, when the same question had been posed.
"Say, you don't know-" Jack cut himself off before he could make trouble. If they did know each other, neither one would likely be very happy to know they had both bedded Jack. He had learned that lesson fairly early on.
"Don't know what?" Bush asked as he reached for the oil they had placed on the washstand next to Bush's bed.
"Never mind," Jack responded, reaching for Bush and ending the talking for awhile.
It was years before he encountered either Bush or Hornblower again. He did keep an eye out for their names in the Chronicle. It did give him pause to realize that Bush commanded Hornblower's flagship. A one-legged captain and captain of a Commodore's ship at that. Bush was obviously there because Hornblower wanted him there, and Hornblower wanted him there badly enough to pull whatever strings he needed to to make it happen. Jack remembered Hornblower's threadbare clothes and careful manners - he did not come from a wealthy family and he had never been very lucky in his prizes, not like Jack. It would have cost him to have Bush.
Ending, The First
He read about Caudebec.
But it wasn't until he encountered Hornblower again, years later, that it all finally made sense.
They happened to be at the same party again. Sophie was home and apparently, so was Hornblower's wife. Although formal enough, not many wives were present and the men found themselves excused from joining the ladies. Jack had caught Hornblower's eye from across the room and had eventually made his way over. Nothing of consequence was spoken between them, but Jack was unsurprised at the soft knock at his door shortly after everyone had retired for the night.
"Stephen always said I was better at talking than listening," he said, by way of apology and warning.
Hornblower shook his head. "I don't know what we would have to talk about."
"Oh come now, Hornblower. We're two old sailors. We could talk until the sun came up, set, came up again, set, and then rose on the third day and only make it through half of our stories." Jack said.
Hornblower snorted out a laugh at that.
"But, if you came here for something other than talk, we'd best get on with it and save the talk after or we may not have the energy."
Hornblower stood and started efficiently stripping. Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise -- he hadn't expected Hornblower to accept the offer. But he wasn't going to rescind it either.
It was more tender than he was expecting. And afterwards it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that the reason why Hornblower turned away and hid his face was to hide his tears. Jack was concerned for a moment that he had somehow hurt him, but no, the answer came to him quick enough, Hornblower had only hurt himself. This was the third time Jack had fucked Horatio Hornblower and the third time he had been a stand in for someone else. Time and experience gave him the wisdom to realize it was probably the same person all along.
"Did you ever get a chance to bed him, whoever he was?" Jack finally asked. Stephen also liked to tell him he had no tact.
Hornblower started. "I don't know what-"
"Please don't insult both of us." Jack interrupted in the tone of voice he used when he was extremely disappointed in his lieutenants.
Hornblower was quiet long enough that Jack was considering whether or not he would truly press him for an answer.
"No," Hornblower said, finally. "I missed my chance."
Loss was something they all dealt with, but this one seemed deeper. Then it hit Jack like a broadside. Bush. Good god, Jack thought. Hornblower had the singularly unlucky experience of falling in love with someone he served with. This wasn't the kind of love that Jack felt for Stephen; no, this was so much worse.
Hornblower hadn't missed his chance. He had never taken it.
Ending, The Second
He read about Caudebec. It was a miracle anyone survived, but there in the account was the short note that Captain Bush had been fished out of the river and had recovered from his wounds.
But it wasn't until he encountered Hornblower again, years later, that it all finally made sense.
It was the first time he encountered the two of them in a room together. It was a party thrown at Hornblower's London house by his wife. Jack wasn't sure quite how he had ended up with an invitation, but he was at loose ends and curious enough as to what Hornblower had been up to in the years since he had seen him that he accepted and found himself at a dinner table with Hornblower, Bush, and a handful of other Navy men and friends of Lady Hornblower's brother. Hornblower was not the smoothest host, and the conversation did not even attempt politics before it found the relatively neutral and safe ground of the army versus the navy.
It wasn't obvious at first. Perhaps Stephen would've realized right away, but for Jack it took an embarrassingly long time to realize he had read the room wrong. He knew now who Hornblower had been thinking about, those times with Jack.
Bush's respect and admiration for Hornblower was achingly clear. Jack envied Hornblower and Bush. He would not trade Stephen for anything, but oh to have a man like Hornblower to command you.
Jack hated Hornblower in that moment. To have all that and then to fuck Jack instead made Jack furious and sick at the same time. He took a sip of brandy to calm himself, and as he lowered his glass he felt Bush's gaze on him. He raised an eyebrow, perhaps in invitation, perhaps not. Bush simply turned his gaze back to Hornblower, expressionless. Well, that answered that, then.
Hornblower ignored Bush through the rest of the discussion, and Bush seemed content to simply be ignored. It bothered Jack. He knew what Hornblower wanted. He could see that Bush would accept in a heartbeat. He wanted to lock them in a room and not let them out until they had fucked themselves silly.
Then, as if cued, they all stood to go. It was late and half the party were taking their leave. Bush appeared to be one of them, and throwing caution to the wind -- and perhaps out of spite -- Jack lingered to wait for him.
He felt Hornblower's gaze snap to him. Then to Bush, then back to Jack. Jack smiled at Hornblower as if to ask, what are you going to do about it. It was awful, to put Bush in this position, but it was clear that if Hornblower had extended himself to make him Captain aboard his flagship, he would not punish Bush over this. Not without risking Bush finding out about Hornblower and Jack. No, it was a calculated risk, but the odds were in Jack's favor so he took them.
Hornblower's look darkened.
He placed a hand on Bush's arm to stay him, and Jack drifted towards the door, remaining within sight of both men. By now, it was only the three of them left in the dining room.
Hornblower leaned forward and said something low and quiet to Bush. Bush stiffened and glanced towards Jack. Oh, bold move, Admiral, Jack thought to himself. He was trying to negate Jack's hand. Jack had a vague recollection that Hornblower was a skilled card player. Well, perhaps this shouldn't be a game of cards, he decided.
"Captain, I believe we are lodging near each other and neither of us have a carriage. Shall I wait for you?"
Bush looked between the two of them. Jack knew that Bush would do anything for Hornblower, but Bush choosing Jack was not the result Jack desired tonight, and that's why he would win this round and likely the war. Hornblower wasn't aware that he was the enemy in this battle, not Jack.
Hornblower said something again and Jack just caught the "sir" Bush murmured in response.
"Captain Bush will be remaining here tonight," Hornblower finally said. As if the words had been forced out of him. In a way they had.
"Sir," Bush said, again, painfully, as if Hornblower had just flayed him alive in front of Jack.
Jack smiled. He didn't feel the least bit terrible for what he had done.
"Very good," he replied. "See that he does," he couldn't help adding as he turned away with a wink.
He didn't stay to find out what happened next. And unsurprisingly, he did not find himself invited to any more social events at the Hornblowers.
Eventually he heard that Hornblower had retired to Smallbridge with his son and wife. Captain Bush had retired as well, and lived with the Hornblowers at their estate. Jack smiled a bit, and imagined that they were happy.
This story features Jack Aubrey as a main character - but you don't need to know anything about O'Brian's character to read it. It can be read as a 3rd person narrator observing Bush and Hornblower. The pairings are stated below. This is definitely an unrequited/pining fic, but the second ending features a happy-ish ending.
As for how it fits the prompt? Jack comforts Hornblower and Bush each to their own needs in his own way?
Title: Jack Aubrey read the Room Wrong
Pairing: Jack Aubrey/William Bush, Jack Aubrey/Horatio Hornblower
Rating: M
Bush’s affection for Hornblower was clear although the man’s deportment was strictly professional and precise. But Hornblower’s? No it was Hornblower’s affection for Bush that he entirely failed to see.
He had met Hornblower a time or two, and there was just something about the passionate and brilliant man hiding behind the shy and reserved exterior. He longed to get him into his bed and had imagined what that would be like to very satisfactory effect on his own more than once.
Bush, on the other hand, had been very businesslike about his pleasure - no less satisfactory, but perhaps would be better described as perfunctory. There was a simple negotiation, a hard fucking (twice), and a friendly exchange of pleasantries. Aubrey was a stand-in for no one in that encounter and a mutual good time was had by all but that was the entirety of it.
Hornblower on the other hand.
When Aubrey finally had Hornblower in his bed he thanked his own god and Stephen's papist one that he had not had the opportunity to bed him earlier.
He would not have appreciated the gift that had been given to him. Hornblower was not inexperienced, which was a relief, because Aubrey had no interest in fucking virgins. No, Hornblower knew what he wanted and how he wanted it, but there was something more there. The man simply came undone and that was too precious of a gift for the blundering fool that Jack once was.
He was thankful that the first time he had Hornblower was in a bed in a sunny guest room at the admiral's estate and that the staff were well trained enough to look the other way - no marine outside to worry about, steward who might walk in, or shipmate that realized where you snuck off to together if you managed to catch a moment in port together.
He Hornblower had naked and spread out underneath him, writhing and gasping and so delicious Aubrey could cry from the sheer joy of it. He very nearly did.
It took him an obscenely long time to realize that although Hornblower was perfectly aware that it was Jack Aubrey that was fucking him hard and steady into the fresh linen sheets of the bed, that it was Jack Aubrey that had pushed his legs wide, grabbed his hips, pulled him up, and slid into him slowly and inexorably, that it was Jack Aubrey's prick that was making him clench the bedstead until his fingers turned white, that made him groan and pant and gasp and yelp in pleasure, that it was not Jack Aubrey who Hornblower wanted to be doing those things.
Oh, Jack was quite sure that there was no cuckhold or spurned lover out there. No, Jack was not there in Hornblower's bed despite someone else, Jack was experiencing the divine pleasure of fucking Horatio Hornblower because he was someone else. He'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt, the realization that although Hornblower was happy to be had by Jack, Jack was merely the stand-in. But it only hurt for a moment, because if Hornblower wanted to be fucked by that other man, Jack pitied whoever the idiot was, but he was certainly not going regret having the opportunity to have Hornblower in his bed just because someone else couldn't figure out Hornblower wanted him there instead of Jack. And it was a him, Jack knew, from the way that Hornblower surrendered to him in bed; it couldn't be anyone but a him.
It was warm, bordering on hot, and there was a party in full swing downstairs. Jack and Hornblower wouldn't be missed before they had a chance to return, so Jack took the time to luxuriate in the summer breeze in through the open windows and entertain a thought of round two. Jack smoked his cigarillo as Hornblower lay in the bed beside him, dazed and half asleep, modest enough to have pulled a sheet over his lower half, but un-selfconscious enough to not immediately rise, dress, and slink out of the room as if he had done something wrong.
Jack was pretty sure the only wrong they had both committed was adultery, as he didn't go much in for sodomy being a sin despite what the Navy said. Bad for discipline? Sure. A nuisance when the boys were bothered with it? Absolutely. But hardly any more a sin than any other vice a sailor might have.
He considered Hornblower: pale, just on this side of too thin, but wiry and lithe. He had a certain grace for all his clumsiness and Jack had certainly understood his appeal once he had got him on his cock.
"You up for another go?" Jack asked after a few minutes.
Hornblower grunted. It could have been a yes or a no, but Jack let it lie, content to simply enjoy the feeling.
They did end up having another go. Not that afternoon, but the party had stretched on - the next day those that fancied it went hunting and those that didn't partook in some shooting. Jack situated himself next to Hornblower in the hopes that he'd be receptive to Jack's advances.
He was, late that night after dinner and long after Hornblower had cleaned everyone's pockets out at whist, Jack had once again had him in his bed. This time it was in the dark, to candlelight and the shadows in start relief against Hornblower's angles and edges. If Jack had had any doubt in his mind that he was a stand in for someone else, it would have been dispelled tonight. There was a desperation in Hornblower as he took Jack's cock. He kept his eyes closed as he took and took and took from Jack. Jack was more than happy to give, but there was a bittersweetness to it too, a sadness, and Jack wondered for a moment if the idiot was in fact Hornblower himself.
Either way, it didn't matter. They both knew what they wanted out of the other and both were willing to give it.
It was only a few months later that Jack ran into Bush in Sheerness. Flush with prize money and pride, Jack invited the man out for a drink. One drink turned into dinner, then another drink, then a walk back to Bush's small house near the docks. Then another drink and finally with much good cheer and laughter, into Bush's bed.
It was just as satisfactory as before. Bush knew what he was about and was a generous and affectionate lover. His back was crossed with scars, new since Jack had last seen him years and years before.
"A Spanish sword," Bush supplied as Jack traced one long slice.
"You're lucky you didn't die," Jack responded.
Bush shrugged.
"Shall we have another go?" he asked. Jack nodded. He was up for it and clearly Bush was too. He flashed back to another night, not too long ago, when the same question had been posed.
"Say, you don't know-" Jack cut himself off before he could make trouble. If they did know each other, neither one would likely be very happy to know they had both bedded Jack. He had learned that lesson fairly early on.
"Don't know what?" Bush asked as he reached for the oil they had placed on the washstand next to Bush's bed.
"Never mind," Jack responded, reaching for Bush and ending the talking for awhile.
It was years before he encountered either Bush or Hornblower again. He did keep an eye out for their names in the Chronicle. It did give him pause to realize that Bush commanded Hornblower's flagship. A one-legged captain and captain of a Commodore's ship at that. Bush was obviously there because Hornblower wanted him there, and Hornblower wanted him there badly enough to pull whatever strings he needed to to make it happen. Jack remembered Hornblower's threadbare clothes and careful manners - he did not come from a wealthy family and he had never been very lucky in his prizes, not like Jack. It would have cost him to have Bush.
Ending, The First
He read about Caudebec.
But it wasn't until he encountered Hornblower again, years later, that it all finally made sense.
They happened to be at the same party again. Sophie was home and apparently, so was Hornblower's wife. Although formal enough, not many wives were present and the men found themselves excused from joining the ladies. Jack had caught Hornblower's eye from across the room and had eventually made his way over. Nothing of consequence was spoken between them, but Jack was unsurprised at the soft knock at his door shortly after everyone had retired for the night.
"Stephen always said I was better at talking than listening," he said, by way of apology and warning.
Hornblower shook his head. "I don't know what we would have to talk about."
"Oh come now, Hornblower. We're two old sailors. We could talk until the sun came up, set, came up again, set, and then rose on the third day and only make it through half of our stories." Jack said.
Hornblower snorted out a laugh at that.
"But, if you came here for something other than talk, we'd best get on with it and save the talk after or we may not have the energy."
Hornblower stood and started efficiently stripping. Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise -- he hadn't expected Hornblower to accept the offer. But he wasn't going to rescind it either.
It was more tender than he was expecting. And afterwards it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that the reason why Hornblower turned away and hid his face was to hide his tears. Jack was concerned for a moment that he had somehow hurt him, but no, the answer came to him quick enough, Hornblower had only hurt himself. This was the third time Jack had fucked Horatio Hornblower and the third time he had been a stand in for someone else. Time and experience gave him the wisdom to realize it was probably the same person all along.
"Did you ever get a chance to bed him, whoever he was?" Jack finally asked. Stephen also liked to tell him he had no tact.
Hornblower started. "I don't know what-"
"Please don't insult both of us." Jack interrupted in the tone of voice he used when he was extremely disappointed in his lieutenants.
Hornblower was quiet long enough that Jack was considering whether or not he would truly press him for an answer.
"No," Hornblower said, finally. "I missed my chance."
Loss was something they all dealt with, but this one seemed deeper. Then it hit Jack like a broadside. Bush. Good god, Jack thought. Hornblower had the singularly unlucky experience of falling in love with someone he served with. This wasn't the kind of love that Jack felt for Stephen; no, this was so much worse.
Hornblower hadn't missed his chance. He had never taken it.
Ending, The Second
He read about Caudebec. It was a miracle anyone survived, but there in the account was the short note that Captain Bush had been fished out of the river and had recovered from his wounds.
But it wasn't until he encountered Hornblower again, years later, that it all finally made sense.
It was the first time he encountered the two of them in a room together. It was a party thrown at Hornblower's London house by his wife. Jack wasn't sure quite how he had ended up with an invitation, but he was at loose ends and curious enough as to what Hornblower had been up to in the years since he had seen him that he accepted and found himself at a dinner table with Hornblower, Bush, and a handful of other Navy men and friends of Lady Hornblower's brother. Hornblower was not the smoothest host, and the conversation did not even attempt politics before it found the relatively neutral and safe ground of the army versus the navy.
It wasn't obvious at first. Perhaps Stephen would've realized right away, but for Jack it took an embarrassingly long time to realize he had read the room wrong. He knew now who Hornblower had been thinking about, those times with Jack.
Bush's respect and admiration for Hornblower was achingly clear. Jack envied Hornblower and Bush. He would not trade Stephen for anything, but oh to have a man like Hornblower to command you.
Jack hated Hornblower in that moment. To have all that and then to fuck Jack instead made Jack furious and sick at the same time. He took a sip of brandy to calm himself, and as he lowered his glass he felt Bush's gaze on him. He raised an eyebrow, perhaps in invitation, perhaps not. Bush simply turned his gaze back to Hornblower, expressionless. Well, that answered that, then.
Hornblower ignored Bush through the rest of the discussion, and Bush seemed content to simply be ignored. It bothered Jack. He knew what Hornblower wanted. He could see that Bush would accept in a heartbeat. He wanted to lock them in a room and not let them out until they had fucked themselves silly.
Then, as if cued, they all stood to go. It was late and half the party were taking their leave. Bush appeared to be one of them, and throwing caution to the wind -- and perhaps out of spite -- Jack lingered to wait for him.
He felt Hornblower's gaze snap to him. Then to Bush, then back to Jack. Jack smiled at Hornblower as if to ask, what are you going to do about it. It was awful, to put Bush in this position, but it was clear that if Hornblower had extended himself to make him Captain aboard his flagship, he would not punish Bush over this. Not without risking Bush finding out about Hornblower and Jack. No, it was a calculated risk, but the odds were in Jack's favor so he took them.
Hornblower's look darkened.
He placed a hand on Bush's arm to stay him, and Jack drifted towards the door, remaining within sight of both men. By now, it was only the three of them left in the dining room.
Hornblower leaned forward and said something low and quiet to Bush. Bush stiffened and glanced towards Jack. Oh, bold move, Admiral, Jack thought to himself. He was trying to negate Jack's hand. Jack had a vague recollection that Hornblower was a skilled card player. Well, perhaps this shouldn't be a game of cards, he decided.
"Captain, I believe we are lodging near each other and neither of us have a carriage. Shall I wait for you?"
Bush looked between the two of them. Jack knew that Bush would do anything for Hornblower, but Bush choosing Jack was not the result Jack desired tonight, and that's why he would win this round and likely the war. Hornblower wasn't aware that he was the enemy in this battle, not Jack.
Hornblower said something again and Jack just caught the "sir" Bush murmured in response.
"Captain Bush will be remaining here tonight," Hornblower finally said. As if the words had been forced out of him. In a way they had.
"Sir," Bush said, again, painfully, as if Hornblower had just flayed him alive in front of Jack.
Jack smiled. He didn't feel the least bit terrible for what he had done.
"Very good," he replied. "See that he does," he couldn't help adding as he turned away with a wink.
He didn't stay to find out what happened next. And unsurprisingly, he did not find himself invited to any more social events at the Hornblowers.
Eventually he heard that Hornblower had retired to Smallbridge with his son and wife. Captain Bush had retired as well, and lived with the Hornblowers at their estate. Jack smiled a bit, and imagined that they were happy.
no subject
Date: 2019-05-03 09:20 pm (UTC)Ugh, so good. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2019-05-07 04:08 am (UTC)He IS the Overly Friendly golden and I LOVE that description of it. He had little concern for the chaos that he leave sin his wake as long as he and everyone around him are happy.
Oh Bush. I love him to pieces be he wouldn't DARE. I hope you find Jack just as enthusiastic in this second part and the ending just a smidge happier.