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18+ Language Violence Mature Content

How Do You Plead: 7.4

by CaptainJack


Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for language, violence, and mature content.

No proper relationship existed without some sort of worries. In his head, Winslow had come to the conclusion that while he was physically stronger, James was clearly emotionally stronger. The decision came while he held this man in his arms whom he would be satisfied spending eternity with. He found his fingers in the sailor’s hair once again, stroking it as he kissed the man’s forehead. James was nettled into his chest, snoring softly and didn’t wake any the slightest at the gentle affection.

The detective glanced over to the bedside table to see the time and noticed the carefully prepared drinks. Time had managed to find its way past three o’clock in the morning. Winslow leaned back on his pillow, holding James even closer to his chest. He started thinking about the amount of time they had known each other, once again. It seemed that the only thing on his mind was the thought of how little time they had spent together and how little time he might have left. With a shaky voice he carefully said, “Do you know that I love you, Mr. Sailor?”

His sailor didn’t answer him. Winslow hadn’t expected an answer - he had hoped that he wouldn’t get an answer. He felt terrible the second after he made his little confession of love. He managed to stifle the sobs that wanted to accompany the tears rolling down his face. There was a temptation to drink an entire bottle of something but he managed to push that down as well. Somewhere amid the tears he felt the sleepiness overcome the anger in his chest. This feeling tugged him into the dark little abyss at the back of his mind, but he kept his mind focused on the warm little form curled against his chest with tender intimacy.

Somewhere at the front of the abyss there was a sharp banging. By the sound of it, it sounded like the ceiling of his apartment was about to cave in. The detective managed to pull his consciousness to the front and center. Once he turned over in bed, he saw that James was still sleeping soundly. Winslow had never expected to find a mate who could sleep through a bombing but here they were.

As the persistent banging went on, he mustered up enough strength to shout, “Oh just wait a goddamn minute for me to get my pants on.”

Winslow could hear a laugh happening somewhere outside of the apartment. He was sure that he was imaging the British tint to it until he reached his own front door. A quick twist of the lock revealed a very drunken British special agent who came spilling onto the entryway floor.

“’Ello, Winslow. I hope you’re having a good evening or morning or whatever the hell kind of hour that this is.”

As the detective pulled Reggie up from the floor he asked, “What gives me the great pleasure of seeing you tonight, Agent John Reginald Smith?”

“I had a revelation while I was talking to your captain at the precinct and then I went out for a couple of drinks.”

Reggie stumbled inside the apartment, taking his tie off as he made his way across the room to collapse onto Winslow’s couch.

“Reggie, you still haven’t answered my question. I don’t care how fucking drunk you are or why the fuck you are drunk. Either tell me where the fuck you’re here or I’m going to throw you out of that god damn window.”

Winslow didn’t realize that he was shouting until James came out of the bedroom. He realized the shock in the sailor’s eyes came from red flush spreading across his body and the white fingertips pointing out towards the living room windows. His eyes switched between his sailor, the man invading his sofa and the picture frame where he could clearly see the red in his cheeks. The image that was staring back at him was not his own - it was his father’s face. The screams that were echoing in his head were not his own either and neither were the eyes, filled with fear, that were looking up with him. Those eyes reminded him of his mother and his sister and the shocked people of God who would sometimes stop in. All of the flashbacks were quickly filling up his head, leaving no space for anything else.

“’Inslow, you’re not your father.”

Instead of the drunken, upper class proper Englishman who had greeted Winslow’s floor with his face, a young man from his past with a sharp Scottish accent rose off the couch. The voice accompanied a soft touch to his arm and further comforting. Winslow soon found that two sets of arms were guiding him down to the couch and a glass of brown colored something was being poured in front of him. He didn’t recognize anything about it beside the sound of it in the glass and the burn in the back of his throat as it passed down his throat. Drinking was not the solution for this, seeing as it would always make his father worse.

“Winslow, love, I don’t know what he’s talking about but you are a very gentle man.”

The detective looked up to see James with one of Winslow’s dressing gowns hanging off of his slight form. Different circumstances, more sexually charged circumstances, would have told Winslow to toss the sailor right onto the couch and have his way with him. A series of dirty thoughts were distracting him from the topic at hand.

Even with Reggie present, he added within his mind, it could still be a fun threesome. I have been in some threesomes with the boy before.

James was still leaning over him as Winslow looked up. The sailor bent down enough to brush the detective’s hair out of the way and kiss his forehead. It was ever so gentle. So much more gentle than what he was expecting in this situation. The very few times that he had gotten mad, while still under his father’s household, had ended ever so terribly. Winslow took James’ wrist and responded with a gentle kiss. He managed to recover himself enough to ask, “Never mind my hysterics but Reggie what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m here because we need to go and talk to Sean O’Keefe as soon as you’re able to about for a few minutes.”

The nervous voice had returned, with its mixture of the young Scotsman Winslow had met at the garden party so long ago and the polished, upper class Englishman that his good friend had become.


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Sun Apr 26, 2020 4:19 pm
Dreamy wrote a review...



Hello.

I thought I was too quick to say those things about James. But this chapter only confirms what I thought, while I understand it's too early to declare love to each other. But to leave Winslow hanging there like that?! Hm, James does not get any points from me. No, sire.

I had some trouble reading the scene where Winslow looks at his family picture and is filled with emotions and stress. I think it's because there is just too much action and back and forth, like snapping of the fingers. While I think it created a good peak-in into Winslow's mind in that instance, it was still a bit hard to process all that. I had to re-read it a couple of times and slowly, too. Maybe it's just me. You can make the changes, if there be a need, if someone else mentions them too.

A small typo:

Either tell me where the fuck you’re here


"...tell me why the fuck you're here..." you mean?

Overall, a good one. I was just confused as to why Winslow was going through all these emotions in such a short amount of time. Well, Reggie is definitely intruding and sure, Winslow has bee drinking a lot, and family portraits/pictures are always stressful to look at; and on top of that James left him hanging! But still! Maybe the next chapters will have more answers, no? Keep writing!

Cheers! :D




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Sun Apr 26, 2020 3:46 pm
BluesClues wrote a review...



James was clearly emotionally stronger


I question this, considering how much bouncing back and forth James has been doing openly since chapter five, but lol okay Winslow.

It seemed that the only thing on his mind was the thought of how little time they had spent together and how little time he might have left. With a shaky voice he carefully said, “Do you know that I love you, Mr. Sailor?”
His sailor didn’t answer him. Winslow hadn’t expected an answer - he had hoped that he wouldn’t get an answer. He felt terrible the second after he made his little confession of love.


So I actually thought James and Winslow knew each other from something prior to this case, but I think I was thinking of Reggie and Winslow. A lot of James and Winslow's interactions make less sense to me if they didn't know each other before, but then again I have to remind myself that not everyone is like me and that a lot of people are out there flirting hardcore and sexing each other up, etc., when they've just met.

I also think it's a little funny here that Winslow's all shaky about confessing love when, like...the last installment I read ended with them saying "I love you." I'm not sure what's different here.

He was sure that he was imaging the British tint to it until he reached his own front door. A quick twist of the lock revealed a very drunken British special agent who came spilling onto the entryway floor.


Oh, go away, Reggie.

Flashback alert! I told Reggie to go away. Honestly.

Even with Reggie present, he added within his mind, it could still be a fun threesome. I have been in some threesomes with the boy before.


Dear lord can Winslow not keep it in his pants even in the midst of a panic attack and flashbacks??? Then again...is this not precisely what I signed up for when I agreed to read this story in the first place? I don't know if I should be more disappointed with Winslow or myself right now.

The nervous voice had returned, with its mixture of the young Scotsman Winslow had met at the garden party so long ago and the polished, upper class Englishman that his good friend had become.


Initially I thought the Scotsman Winslow heard during the flashback was a memory of a different person (I mean, I guess it was, in a way), but now I realize it's Reggie and that the upper-class English thing is more of a facade he's put on over the years. I'm curious about his backstory and how he came to be here - upper-class English, that is, not Winslow's apartment right this moment.




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Sun Apr 26, 2020 1:53 am
Rin321 wrote a review...



Hi again! Rin321 back :)

can I just say the end of the first paragraph was just AWWWWW!
You're not helping my growing support for these two haha, they're so sweet and I love these little details you put in. I love picturing them in my head and seeing the kind and affectionate gestures for each other!

"Somewhere amid the tears he felt the sleepiness overcome the anger in his chest. This feeling tugged him into the dark little abyss at the back of his mind, but he kept his mind focused on the warm little form curled against his chest with tender intimacy."

I really wanted to highlight this section because it really struck me. As I've said before the situation for these two is pretty tough, and I love the way you're wording what Winslow is feeling right then. I can almost put myself in his position and feel what he's feeling, and I love when writing is just that good and I'm able to put myself in characters' shoes. Amazing Job!!!

Is it bad that I psychically sighed when John Smith came knocking? like duuuuude they were having a MOMENT. (lol sorry, I know so much of this is commentary but there's not much else for me to go on because you're a great writer and it's hard to nitpick anything!)

Oh no, I can only imagine Winslow's past with his father, it adds yet another complex layer to him to see! I'm glad James was there and able to calm him from being violent but I don't blame him, I wouldn't be friendly to a drunk friend banging on my door at an ungodly hour with no good reason lol

I love how good and tender James is for Winslow though, I really do. Winslow needs this. He's been so course and used to harsh reactions that it surprises him this much receiving such gentle love. My heart ;-;

The ending has me a little confused, I'm not sure if this guy was in a part I hadn't read or my memory is bad, but I'll just have to keep on reading!

Until next time,
Rin





Also. Jack, why do I feel like you are responsible for spamming the site with the Bee Movie quote in the quote generator. *looks suspiciously*
— alliygator