Black Sails fic: Summer in the City
May. 6th, 2017 12:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Summer in the City (1751 words) by meridian_rose
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Black Sails
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Captain Flint/John Silver, Max & John Silver
Characters: Captain Flint (Black Sails), John Silver, Max (Black Sails), Billy Bones
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancing, Male-Female Friendship, First Kiss, background Max/Anne/Jack, Other Characters Are Mentioned, background Flint x Miranda, miracles of modern medicine, Rooftops, New York probably, Community: trope_bingo, trope: alternate univese - mundane, Inspired by Music, Billy Bones DJ, they both prefer redheads
For
trope_bingo prompt au: mundane
Summary: On hot summer nights Flint allows his tenants to gather on the rooftop and host dances. He's drawn to John Silver, but the way he dances with Max suggests that Flint is out of luck. Of course sometimes it really is just dancing. On the other hand sometimes dancing can be a prelude to other things.
At AO3 (title link above) and below the cut. Author notes at end of fic.
"On the roof?" Flint had asked and he could have put a stop to this spectacle before it even began. Billy had been enthusiastic though and Miranda had thought it was a lovely idea and before he knew it the roof of the building Flint had inherited was being used for a nightly dance.
The summer was hot beyond belief but up here, as night fell, the atmosphere was joyful rather than oppressive. Billy was the DJ, moving from rock and pop through every conceivable style of dance - Miranda had started that, saying she'd give her blessing if he played a waltz or two each night - and threw in some jazz and electronica for good measure.
There was a bar. No-one could buy or sell alcohol, this not being licensed premises, but Flint turned a blind eye to Gates practising his bartending skills, dishing up whatever drinks people had provided in lieu of having to buy tickets to a club.
It was supposed to have just been residents from this building but they'd starting bringing friends and word had got around and sometimes the roof was so crowded there was little room for dancing at all.
Flint found himself up here most nights, ostensibly to keep an eye on things, fearing liability if something went wrong. He made sure the music stopped at a reasonable time and he made sure no-one fell off the roof, and if someone looked too drunk he'd make sure they weren't driving home.
Getting sued was not the only reason Flint came up here. The other arrived now, bursting through the door after presumably running up the stairs. He dashed over to Max and paused to catch his breath.
"You're late again, cher!" Max held out what looked like a gin and tonic (it had been Miranda's contribution to the bar) and Silver grabbed it, drained it in one go.
"Sorry. Let's dance!"
And they did. Billy let them have a waltz before he switched to a tango.
It was effortless and beautiful and Flint was mesmerised. They made a fantastic couple and he watched as always, with admiration and a twinge of regret that he barely dared acknowledge. Flint was not a great dancer, though he knew his way around a waltz. He preferred to stand on the sidelines and observe the frivolity while Silver threw himself into the action with wild abandon.
Billy decided it was time for something from this century, and a female vocalist got many more people dancing freestyle. Silver went to the bar and grabbed a beer, coming to to talk to Flint who was in his usual place. It was a nice spot near the bar, which gave him the best vantage point of the rest of the roof, and was far enough away from the speakers that conversation was possible.
"Where's Miranda?" Silver asked. Everyone knew Miranda.
"Visiting her god-daughter Abigail for a few days."
Silver nodded. "Then I'll have to keep you company."
Flint eyed him. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your dance partner."
"I need to take a break. Max will amuse herself for a while."
"You two are close," Flint noted. "I mean, you live with her."
Silver gave a wary smile. "When she wanted to move from yoga into dance and cut back on teaching so she could take dance classes, she needed help with the rent. She said you wouldn't mind."
Flint gave a noncommittal shrug.
Silver nodded. "It was a good thing I moved in when I did. If it weren't for her…I owe her so much."
Flint had never seen Silver look sad before but then this was the longest he'd spoken to the man. Their relationship had been one of occasional gossip, glimpses across the rooftop, brief exchanges when Miranda was present. He'd trespassed into dangerous territory and yet he couldn't help but press the issue. "What happened?"
"I had an accident," Silver said, and Flint got the impression it was mostly true but not the whole story. "They said if this had happened ten years ago or the surgeon wasn't so good I'd have lost a leg."
So Flint hadn't imagined the limp that only appeared at the end of the night. He'd assumed it was a torn ligament from overexertion on the dance-floor.
Silver gave a long sigh. "We managed to make the guilty party pay up for the surgery but nothing more than that. The physical therapy proved too expensive and not that helpful. Max would buy groceries and sit with me on the days I couldn't get out of bed. But on the better days she'd make me get up and go shopping with her, especially if I wanted rum. And she said she'd watch whatever crappy movies I wanted with me so long as I helped her practice her dance moves in return."
"She wanted you to dance?" Flint was incredulous.
Silver laughed. "That was my reaction. I never danced before the injury, let alone after. But Max said that was a good thing. I couldn't blame the injury for my appalling dancing since it was all new to me anyway. And it was difficult sometimes and painful but we kept at it. I never even knew there were so many dances."
Flint shook his head. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you'd been through something like that."
"I should hope not. It gets sore occasionally if I've been standing all day, or push myself a bit too hard, or when it's cold - not that it's a problem right now. But most days I can get around just fine. The dancing helps keep me supple."
Supple. Flint took a long swallow of the beer Billy had provided and swore he'd bring a crate of something more palatable tomorrow.
Silver put down his half-finished beer. "Mambo! Excuse me," he said and went to dance with Max once more.
Flint was not disappointed at all to see him go. But then he was good at ignoring his feelings.
*
The next night Flint was on the phone to Miranda for an hour and so arrived late to the party. He had to shoulder his way through the crowd to take up his customary spot.
Billy had played Ricky Martin, Los Lobos, Shakira. "Rumba next," he called as the music finished.
Silver shook his head violently at Max. She pleaded with him but then a tall man stepped in and she shooed Silver away. Silver went to the bar and grabbed a beer - there was only one kind left and one bottle of Chardonnay, no-one could be picky today - and came to stand by Flint.
"The rumba is not my dance. Much as I love Max, there are limits."
Flint studied Silver and then looked over the sensual dance going on just a few feet away. "Aren't you jealous?"
"Oh yes. I will never rumba like Jack does." Silver finished his drink in a few long gulps.
Flint frowned. "I didn't mean jealous of his dance moves. I meant that he's dancing with Max."
"I'm confused."
Flint was too. "It's just dancing?"
"Yes." Silver put down the empty bottle. He fixed his gaze on Flint. "Why would I care if it were more?"
Adrift, Flint said, "I meant that he's - isn't she your -"
Silver frowned. "You think Max and I are dating?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Silver shook his head, amused. "No."
Flint took another swig of beer, or tried to. The bottle was empty. "But you said you owed her. I thought you loved her."
"Both true. Doesn't mean I'm screwing her. I don't either of us would enjoy that." The dance finished. Billy put on a waltz for a change of pace.
Silver nodded to where a woman had joined Max and Jack. Max reached out and caressed the woman's cheek. "You see, Max prefers red-heads."
Flint blinked a few times. Silver gave a wicked smile.
"As do I," he said softly. He held out one hand. "Would you care to dance, James?"
When Flint was silent, stunned, Silver plucked the bottle from his grasp and put it aside. "Come on. I'll let you lead."
Silver was as good as his word. After an awkward start Flint relaxed into the rhythm of the waltz. One hand was on Silver's back while Silver's left hand rested on Flint's shoulder, their other hands clasped together. It was both chaste and yet strangely intimate and Flint recalled how the waltz had once been thought scandalous and felt heat rise in his cheeks.
When the song ended, a modern romantic song with a slow beat began. Silver let go of Flint's hand only to wrap it around his waist. They moved to the beat, hips touching, not worrying about the steps, merely revelling the closeness.
Max moved to greet them as that song finished and Billy took a break from DJ-ing.
"I'm going with Anne and Jack. I'll stay at their place tonight."
"Okay. Have fun." Silver leant over to kiss her cheek.
She winked at Flint. "You too."
Flint felt off-kilter again, and then Silver took his hand, dragged him to get another beer. Silver filled Flint's silence with chatter for several minutes. Billy returned and played a few more tunes.
"Last one of the evening," Billy announced to groans from the assembled crowd. "Don't complain, get drinking and dancing!"
Silver eyed Flint hopefully. Flint shook his head.
At seeing the disappointment in Silver's eyes, Flint said, "Maybe tomorrow," and was warmed by the spark of excitement that his words brought about.
"All right. Tomorrow." Silver grinned. "First dance belongs to Max though."
"I understand." He was beginning to. What he had with Miranda wasn't so different to what Silver had with Max. It meant Silver wouldn't mind Miranda's presence in Flint's life if this went further because he would understand too.
Silver beamed. "Good night then." He leaned up and Flint could have turned his head or stepped back but instead he inclined his head slightly, met Silver's lips. As with the waltz it was an almost chaste yet undeniably intimate gesture.
Flint watched Silver leave all too soon, delectable ass sashaying between the few remaining dancers. He waved to Billy and then turned to smirk at Flint over his shoulder. Flint gave him a hard stare but it did nothing to dampen Silver's spirits as he all but danced out of sight.
Flint was warm inside and he knew it had nothing to with the summer heat.
For the trope bingo prompt "au: mundane" - no fearsome pirates here!
Inspired by "Summer In the City" by the Loving Spoonful - you can watch/listen here - in which the oppressive city heat is offset by the night time activities.
"Till I'm wheezing like a bus stop
Running up the stairs, gonna meet you on the rooftop
But at night it's a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat it'll be all right"
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Black Sails
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Captain Flint/John Silver, Max & John Silver
Characters: Captain Flint (Black Sails), John Silver, Max (Black Sails), Billy Bones
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancing, Male-Female Friendship, First Kiss, background Max/Anne/Jack, Other Characters Are Mentioned, background Flint x Miranda, miracles of modern medicine, Rooftops, New York probably, Community: trope_bingo, trope: alternate univese - mundane, Inspired by Music, Billy Bones DJ, they both prefer redheads
For
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Summary: On hot summer nights Flint allows his tenants to gather on the rooftop and host dances. He's drawn to John Silver, but the way he dances with Max suggests that Flint is out of luck. Of course sometimes it really is just dancing. On the other hand sometimes dancing can be a prelude to other things.
At AO3 (title link above) and below the cut. Author notes at end of fic.
"On the roof?" Flint had asked and he could have put a stop to this spectacle before it even began. Billy had been enthusiastic though and Miranda had thought it was a lovely idea and before he knew it the roof of the building Flint had inherited was being used for a nightly dance.
The summer was hot beyond belief but up here, as night fell, the atmosphere was joyful rather than oppressive. Billy was the DJ, moving from rock and pop through every conceivable style of dance - Miranda had started that, saying she'd give her blessing if he played a waltz or two each night - and threw in some jazz and electronica for good measure.
There was a bar. No-one could buy or sell alcohol, this not being licensed premises, but Flint turned a blind eye to Gates practising his bartending skills, dishing up whatever drinks people had provided in lieu of having to buy tickets to a club.
It was supposed to have just been residents from this building but they'd starting bringing friends and word had got around and sometimes the roof was so crowded there was little room for dancing at all.
Flint found himself up here most nights, ostensibly to keep an eye on things, fearing liability if something went wrong. He made sure the music stopped at a reasonable time and he made sure no-one fell off the roof, and if someone looked too drunk he'd make sure they weren't driving home.
Getting sued was not the only reason Flint came up here. The other arrived now, bursting through the door after presumably running up the stairs. He dashed over to Max and paused to catch his breath.
"You're late again, cher!" Max held out what looked like a gin and tonic (it had been Miranda's contribution to the bar) and Silver grabbed it, drained it in one go.
"Sorry. Let's dance!"
And they did. Billy let them have a waltz before he switched to a tango.
It was effortless and beautiful and Flint was mesmerised. They made a fantastic couple and he watched as always, with admiration and a twinge of regret that he barely dared acknowledge. Flint was not a great dancer, though he knew his way around a waltz. He preferred to stand on the sidelines and observe the frivolity while Silver threw himself into the action with wild abandon.
Billy decided it was time for something from this century, and a female vocalist got many more people dancing freestyle. Silver went to the bar and grabbed a beer, coming to to talk to Flint who was in his usual place. It was a nice spot near the bar, which gave him the best vantage point of the rest of the roof, and was far enough away from the speakers that conversation was possible.
"Where's Miranda?" Silver asked. Everyone knew Miranda.
"Visiting her god-daughter Abigail for a few days."
Silver nodded. "Then I'll have to keep you company."
Flint eyed him. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your dance partner."
"I need to take a break. Max will amuse herself for a while."
"You two are close," Flint noted. "I mean, you live with her."
Silver gave a wary smile. "When she wanted to move from yoga into dance and cut back on teaching so she could take dance classes, she needed help with the rent. She said you wouldn't mind."
Flint gave a noncommittal shrug.
Silver nodded. "It was a good thing I moved in when I did. If it weren't for her…I owe her so much."
Flint had never seen Silver look sad before but then this was the longest he'd spoken to the man. Their relationship had been one of occasional gossip, glimpses across the rooftop, brief exchanges when Miranda was present. He'd trespassed into dangerous territory and yet he couldn't help but press the issue. "What happened?"
"I had an accident," Silver said, and Flint got the impression it was mostly true but not the whole story. "They said if this had happened ten years ago or the surgeon wasn't so good I'd have lost a leg."
So Flint hadn't imagined the limp that only appeared at the end of the night. He'd assumed it was a torn ligament from overexertion on the dance-floor.
Silver gave a long sigh. "We managed to make the guilty party pay up for the surgery but nothing more than that. The physical therapy proved too expensive and not that helpful. Max would buy groceries and sit with me on the days I couldn't get out of bed. But on the better days she'd make me get up and go shopping with her, especially if I wanted rum. And she said she'd watch whatever crappy movies I wanted with me so long as I helped her practice her dance moves in return."
"She wanted you to dance?" Flint was incredulous.
Silver laughed. "That was my reaction. I never danced before the injury, let alone after. But Max said that was a good thing. I couldn't blame the injury for my appalling dancing since it was all new to me anyway. And it was difficult sometimes and painful but we kept at it. I never even knew there were so many dances."
Flint shook his head. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you'd been through something like that."
"I should hope not. It gets sore occasionally if I've been standing all day, or push myself a bit too hard, or when it's cold - not that it's a problem right now. But most days I can get around just fine. The dancing helps keep me supple."
Supple. Flint took a long swallow of the beer Billy had provided and swore he'd bring a crate of something more palatable tomorrow.
Silver put down his half-finished beer. "Mambo! Excuse me," he said and went to dance with Max once more.
Flint was not disappointed at all to see him go. But then he was good at ignoring his feelings.
The next night Flint was on the phone to Miranda for an hour and so arrived late to the party. He had to shoulder his way through the crowd to take up his customary spot.
Billy had played Ricky Martin, Los Lobos, Shakira. "Rumba next," he called as the music finished.
Silver shook his head violently at Max. She pleaded with him but then a tall man stepped in and she shooed Silver away. Silver went to the bar and grabbed a beer - there was only one kind left and one bottle of Chardonnay, no-one could be picky today - and came to stand by Flint.
"The rumba is not my dance. Much as I love Max, there are limits."
Flint studied Silver and then looked over the sensual dance going on just a few feet away. "Aren't you jealous?"
"Oh yes. I will never rumba like Jack does." Silver finished his drink in a few long gulps.
Flint frowned. "I didn't mean jealous of his dance moves. I meant that he's dancing with Max."
"I'm confused."
Flint was too. "It's just dancing?"
"Yes." Silver put down the empty bottle. He fixed his gaze on Flint. "Why would I care if it were more?"
Adrift, Flint said, "I meant that he's - isn't she your -"
Silver frowned. "You think Max and I are dating?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Silver shook his head, amused. "No."
Flint took another swig of beer, or tried to. The bottle was empty. "But you said you owed her. I thought you loved her."
"Both true. Doesn't mean I'm screwing her. I don't either of us would enjoy that." The dance finished. Billy put on a waltz for a change of pace.
Silver nodded to where a woman had joined Max and Jack. Max reached out and caressed the woman's cheek. "You see, Max prefers red-heads."
Flint blinked a few times. Silver gave a wicked smile.
"As do I," he said softly. He held out one hand. "Would you care to dance, James?"
When Flint was silent, stunned, Silver plucked the bottle from his grasp and put it aside. "Come on. I'll let you lead."
Silver was as good as his word. After an awkward start Flint relaxed into the rhythm of the waltz. One hand was on Silver's back while Silver's left hand rested on Flint's shoulder, their other hands clasped together. It was both chaste and yet strangely intimate and Flint recalled how the waltz had once been thought scandalous and felt heat rise in his cheeks.
When the song ended, a modern romantic song with a slow beat began. Silver let go of Flint's hand only to wrap it around his waist. They moved to the beat, hips touching, not worrying about the steps, merely revelling the closeness.
Max moved to greet them as that song finished and Billy took a break from DJ-ing.
"I'm going with Anne and Jack. I'll stay at their place tonight."
"Okay. Have fun." Silver leant over to kiss her cheek.
She winked at Flint. "You too."
Flint felt off-kilter again, and then Silver took his hand, dragged him to get another beer. Silver filled Flint's silence with chatter for several minutes. Billy returned and played a few more tunes.
"Last one of the evening," Billy announced to groans from the assembled crowd. "Don't complain, get drinking and dancing!"
Silver eyed Flint hopefully. Flint shook his head.
At seeing the disappointment in Silver's eyes, Flint said, "Maybe tomorrow," and was warmed by the spark of excitement that his words brought about.
"All right. Tomorrow." Silver grinned. "First dance belongs to Max though."
"I understand." He was beginning to. What he had with Miranda wasn't so different to what Silver had with Max. It meant Silver wouldn't mind Miranda's presence in Flint's life if this went further because he would understand too.
Silver beamed. "Good night then." He leaned up and Flint could have turned his head or stepped back but instead he inclined his head slightly, met Silver's lips. As with the waltz it was an almost chaste yet undeniably intimate gesture.
Flint watched Silver leave all too soon, delectable ass sashaying between the few remaining dancers. He waved to Billy and then turned to smirk at Flint over his shoulder. Flint gave him a hard stare but it did nothing to dampen Silver's spirits as he all but danced out of sight.
Flint was warm inside and he knew it had nothing to with the summer heat.
For the trope bingo prompt "au: mundane" - no fearsome pirates here!
Inspired by "Summer In the City" by the Loving Spoonful - you can watch/listen here - in which the oppressive city heat is offset by the night time activities.
"Till I'm wheezing like a bus stop
Running up the stairs, gonna meet you on the rooftop
But at night it's a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat it'll be all right"