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Captain Frenchie’s latest bright idea is to find out everyone’s birthday and favourite food, so they can have parties and treats on the relevant days. Lucius isn’t about to object. As Frenchie says, parties are a grand excuse to get ‘everyone’ (and they both know he really means ‘Izzy’) dressed up and singing. So Lucius is going round all the crew with his book and quill, making a list.
There are three birthdays in October but the rest are spread more evenly through the year, which is nice. Favourite foods vary wildly, of course. Archie’s barbecued snake recipe gives Lucius flashbacks but he doesn’t get time to dwell on that as Pete’s eager request for something called Hot Dogs causes a huge misunderstanding with Fang.
Lucius spends the rest of the day sorting that out, and then awards himself a treat, as a reward for his patience.
He finds Izzy with Frenchie planning their latest scam, something to do with exotic spices and expensive import licences. “This guy who’s been appointed Governor? Fifth son of a Duke, sensitive about being so far down the pecking order, got a real weakness for spiced chai…” Frenchie glances up and spots Lucius leaning in the doorway. “Lu! Come to drag him away, have you?’
“Yep, it’s time for his nap.” And Izzy splutters in indignation, but doesn’t resist when Lucius drags him down to his cabin. Later, when they’ve regained their breath, Lucius runs his fingers through Izzy’s chest hair and remembers his list. “When’s your birthday?”
Izzy frowns. “Why’re you asking?”
“Frenchie wants everyone to get treats on their birthday.”
“Fucks sake.” Izzy rolls his eyes. “What kind of pirates even are you?”
Lucius smirks at him. “Your favourite kind, obviously.” Izzy snorts, but Lucius kisses him, shutting him up quite effectively. “So, your birthday? Also your favourite food because Roach’ll make it for dinner that day… and don’t say hard tack with gravy and an orange because we have that all the time.”
“But I like hard tack with gravy and an orange,” Izzy points out. “It’s proper pirate food.”
“So it wasn’t you I saw you going back for seconds when Roach made that strawberry cheesecake last week?” Lucius grins as Izzy glares at him.
“Never a good idea to offend the ship’s cook,” Izzy mutters. Lucius smirks and scritches his fingernails over Izzy’s nipple, still a bit sensitive from their evening’s exertions. Izzy hisses, and Lucius reaches up to kiss him again.
“You haven’t answered me, anyway. What’s your favourite food?”
Izzy shrugs. “Don’t have one. Piracy’s all famine or feast. I eat what’s there, and count myself glad. Don’t need anything fancy.”
“Did you have a favourite when you were a child?”
“Don’t remember,” Izzy mutters. “Long time ago.” He yawns, and Lucius gives up for the moment in favour of sleep.
Izzy eventually owns up to a birthday “late February, or start of March, I don’t know, my ma died and my gran couldn’t remember.” But he is adamant that hard tack and an orange is good enough, so when February rolls round again Lucius and Frenchie head to the newly-restored Jackie’z to ask around. As Izzy is supposed to be dead, Lucius comes up with the idea of a memorial dinner as an excuse, but nobody seems to have any idea about Izzy’s favourite food. Several people even burst into tears when asked.
Lucius gives up and is about to leave when Steak Knife sobs something about Izzy always enjoying a Wigan Slap on his birthday. He then collapses onto Jackie’s chest, crying too much to say anything more.
“What the fuck is a Wigan Slap?” Roach asks, when Lucius brings this bit of information home to the ship.
“Maybe it’s like a Glasgow kiss,” Wee John muses. He’s sat on a barrel, busy with some knitting. Whatever he’s working on involves black wool shot through with gold thread, and Lucius wouldn’t bet against it being Izzy’s birthday present.
“What, you mean, like a headbutt? A smack, or something?” Lucius frowns. “I mean, why would he want that on his… oh.” He stops short, biting his lip.
Roach grins at him. “This is Izzy we are talking about.”
And Lucius grins back, because even if he still doesn’t know precisely what a Wigan Slap is, he and Frenchie have some nice silk rope, creative imaginations and an intimate knowledge of Izzy’s preferences in certain areas.
On the big day they’ve assigned as Izzy’s birthday, dinner really is hard tack with gravy and an orange. Izzy’s not disappointed, exactly, but he is a bit surprised that Roach didn’t use the occasion to show off his pastry skills. Still, Izzy eats his dinner, thanks Wee John for the lovely scarf, and tries not to feel anything about Lucius and Frenchie not even showing up to the galley.
When he heads to Frenchie’s cabin after dinner for another session of scam planning, he finds Lucius and Frenchie waiting for him. Lucius is smirking and hiding something behind his back so they’re obviously up to something, but even so, Izzy is caught off guard when Frenchie grabs him and Lucius ties a blindfold over his eyes.
Izzy opens his mouth to ask what the fuck they’re doing, but Lucius says “No, no talking! It’s your birthday, so you’re getting a treat. Hold out your hands.” Izzy subsides, his mind going a little fuzzy, because that particular tone in Lucius’ voice means it’s time for him to obey. He presents his hands eagerly and Frenchie wraps the silk round his wrists, tying the ends firmly but not too tight.
“You’re getting something special, because we love you and it’s your birthday.” Lucius knows he sounds a bit smug but he can’t help it… he’s been looking forward to giving Izzy his birthday treat for days.
Izzy sighs happily as Frenchie leans forward to rest his chin on Izzy’s shoulder. “Happy Birthday Iz, we’re giving you a Wigan Slap.”
Lucius leans forward to give Izzy a gentle slap on the cheek, followed by a kiss. They’ve planned to work up from gentle-with-kisses to actual pain but only if Izzy’s in the mood, so Lucius is watching his reactions closely. The furrowed brow above the blindfold isn’t unexpected, since they’ve sprung this on him.
What Lucius doesn’t expect is to see Izzy’s lips twitch into a smirk, and then Izzy leaning back against Frenchie and howling with laughter, reaching his bound hands to move the blindfold up.
Lucius is a bit offended. They’ve worked hard on this. They’ve had planning sessions, choreography, they’ve even bloody rehearsed. “I don’t see what’s so funny!”
Izzy heaves a breath, his eyes streaming. “You think it’s a… a…” his voice trails off as he chokes on a giggle. “Who the fuck have you been talking to?”
Lucius scowls. “We spent all day in Jackie’z trying to find out what would be a good birthday treat, actually, and Steak Knife said you always liked a Wigan Slap!”
“And you didn’t stop to ask what that is?” Izzy grins up at Lucius. “Full marks for a bright idea, but the execution leaves significant room for improvement, Captain, Mr Spriggs.”
Lucius folds his arms. “Alright smartarse, how about you enlighten us?”
“Well, for a start it’s a Wigan Slappy, not a Slap. And it’s food, not consensual violence!”
“You told Lucius you didn’t want fancy food for your birthday!” Frenchie objects.
“S’not fancy,” Izzy replies, smirking at them. “It’s a meat pie in a barm… that’s a bread roll to the likes of you.”
Lucius stares at him. “A meat pie… so, meat in pastry in a bread roll? That sounds… that’s mad! All those carbs! Why would anyone do that?”
Izzy grins at him. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried one. They’re hot and filling, done right they’re the best thing in the world. Especially when you’re a hungry lad on a cold day, and your grandma gives you a farthing for the pie shop.”
“Huh,” Lucius considers this. “I suppose I can see that.”
He looks down at the hard lines of Izzy’s body… the unicorn leg gleaming gold in the candlelight, the tight leather straining over his thighs, his neck exposed as he leans back against Frenchie’s shoulder.
Frenchie grins at him, and then reaches for the silk binding Izzy’s hands. “I guess we’d better get you out of this then, Iz. I’ll have a chat with Roach… we might be able to manage a Slappy for you tomorrow!”
Izzy pulls his hands up to his chest, shaking Frenchie’s fingers away. “No need to rush,” he says, and he reaches up to pull the blindfold back down. “Not when you’ve gone to all this trouble. Might as well show me what you had planned.”
“Slaps tonight, Slappy tomorrow?” Lucius suggests, then leans forward to place another kiss on Izzy’s cheek. “Sounds good to me. Happy Birthday, love.”