Black Sails: Flint/Billy Bones
There was a knock at the door and at a grunt from Flint, Billy let himself in. The music from Muldoon’s accordion filled the cabin. He was improving a little, Flint reflected thankfully. The men liked singing along and morale was a constant concern.
Flint switched his attention to the boy in front of him. The young man was a promising pirate. He had presence on deck, not least, his habit of doing pull ups from the top mast.
“You again?”
“Yes, Captain. Gates sent me.”
“Billy, wasn’t it?”
A sigh, “Yes, Captain.”
Flint allowed himself a smile. Billy Bones.
*
Billy always got nervous in the Captain’s cabin. What’s more he knew that was the intention and he resented it.
Gates sent him here to learn, knowing the Captain would never ask for him. Gates knew the Captain’s moods well but it was still a gamble to make the approach. Some nights he got stories, others lectures on navigation, wind speeds, storm bating. He’d been thrown out before, he’d been raged at, cursed to hell and back. He’d been anything the Captain needed, for a long, long time now.
He stood his ground in the lamp light.
“Drink?” Flint offered.
*
Flint knew he shouldn’t but he didn’t become a pirate to abide by the rules society made. He fills a glass of port and hands it to Billy, lets his fingers drift over Billy’s wrist, up his arm. Billy tenses his muscles a little. They both know how this goes by now.
“Billy Bones,” Flint murmurs. Billy turns his head up, looks his Captain in the eye.
“Yes, Captain,” he says.
Some nights, Billy comes here for this. Flint knows that. Gates too.
It shouldn’t happen because they all know Flint is careless of Billy. But it does.