foxtophat | i want to love a boy (the way i love the ocean)

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sails: skulcap

i want to love a boy (the way i love the ocean)

[despite it being a borderline hoarder's nest of media, Skulduggery does enjoy the bridge's default appearance. he wants to know more about it -- pry a little, maybe see if they can't uncover some long-hidden memory that wasn't thrown to the four winds over the course of the Serena Eterna's existence -- but there's a time and a place for interrogations, and this isn't it, chief.

he pauses once he's inside, less to consider the mess around him and more to decide where to put his hat and jacket.]

...Oh. Right. I only need to want a coat rack...

[et voila. a place for his hat and jacket.]

Do I need to verbalize requests like that? [so far he's just been doing it because he loves to hear himself talk.]

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[he blinks, puzzled, and manages to push himself up slightly on his elbows - only to fall back down soon after, laughing into his fist even as near-constant blush turns darker.]

Like I said. Subconscious desires. [the same ones that spread his legs open wider, and make him clench around nothing.]

[the only thing that keeps him from being utterly sidetracked is watching the ever-darkening blush spread across his skin. he can't help the continued noises of amusement as his fingers finally slide close enough to feel the heat between his legs, fading into a satisfied hum as he spreads the skin there.]

I'm afraid I've gotten quite distracted... Remind me again what you want me to do to you.

[he glares at him for a moment, but this is very much still A Game He Is Going To Win, and he was raised to be many things, but by god none of them were a quitter.

he shifts his hips up slightly, pushing towards his fingers, the movement giving him the time to steel himself enough that he can manage the next sentence without his nerves stuttering the letters or adding in pauses, gaze fixed firmly on Skulduggery's own.]

I want you to fuck me, daddy.

[his laugh is honestly so unattractive but he is just completely gobsmacked. the first thing he thinks of is Avery-as-Darcy shouting "YEAH, I KNOW IT'S CREEPY."]

Where the hell did you come up with that! [hes gonna die -- no, no, serious tender moment, he's got this. (he is absolutely saving this for later embarrassment.)]

I love you. Never call me that again. [which is a serious request despite the giggling. god this whole thing is like a terrible porno and as the mortification dies, the amusement rises. he's still wearing a metaphorical grin when he presses the tip of silicon against the Captain.]

[he smirks, because that's another point for him, and he has the current high score in sex, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve.]

I have been doing intensive research. [a pause, and his eyes widen for a second.] Oh, before I completely forget... I did have a hypothesis I wanted to check...

[his hands ghost down his ribs on their way to his hips, ending up where harness meets bone. his eyes go full black for just a fraction of a second... Skulduggery will find that it has the same level of sensory ability as any other part of him, as if it were truly an extension of himself.]

... Okay. I'm about 75% sure that worked. 85% sure I didn't cause massive nerve damage. [...] 83%.

[intensive research, hmmm? he wants to ask, but part of the fun is finding out on his own, right? (even if it involves feeling mortified once in a while!)]

Very reassuring... [the sarcasm is mostly missing, the humor muted by the sudden change in sensation. pressure, heat, wetness -- it washes over him with the Captain's touch. he almost wishes he could breathe, just to feel the air catch in his lungs; if nerve damage is what he gets for this, then so be it.] ...More than that, very appreciated.

[still resting the tip between his folds, Skulduggery finds his clit, lightly rolling his thumb over it.] Are you ready?

[he couldn't stop the whine he makes, or how he grinds up at even that slight touch, even if he wanted to - and he doesn't.

he nods slowly, the slightest tremor in his voice when he speaks.] Please...

[he hums his approval first, applying more pressure with his thumb as he slowly pushes in, then whispers teasingly,] Good boy.

[it's either the praise or the slow stretch, unlike anything he can remember having felt before, that pulls the broken moan from him - or both, more likely.]

Oh, fuck... [he's been practically dripping since they were still out on the deck; that's no obstacle. but, he feels it opening him up wider than Skulduggery's fingers had, and, even at the start, deeper than his own had dared to try. it's... a lot. so much. too much.

a leg hooks around the backs of his thigh bones, urging him closer.]

[he wants to sink into him until he has nothing more to give, but he does it slowly, enraptured by the feel of muscles clenching around him. he moves his hands back to the Captain's ass, squeezing, using the leverage to ensure a long, slow process.]

Mm! [he pushes back into the touch this time, arching his back up, trying speed the process along due to sheer stubborn impatience despite the fact that he feels like he's slowly losing his mind. one arm falls loosely to his side, while the other drapes across his eyes.] Please...

[his overwhelming desire has nowhere to go, spreading across his nerves in rolling waves of desperate passion. he hadn't been lying; all he wants, all he needs, is to see the effect he has on the man below him.]

Alright, love. For you, anything. [his begging is gasoline on the fire, and Skulduggery gives in, sinking fully into him.]

[he realizes, about a second before it happens, that the sensation he's been referring to as "losing his mind" is, in fact, actually "about to come."

his body tenses up for a long moment, hips grinding up even as he falls back into the bed, and even after that. when he lifts his arm to look at his face, his expression is mildly confused. not just because experiencing something for the second time in your life can be an overwhelming as the first.]

... Fuck me. Hard.

[but because he needs a third.]

Ahh... gorgeous.

[the command is one he's all too happy to obey, remaining still only until the first aftershocks have passed before rolling his hips. the pace is necessarily slow at first as he tests his instincts against the passage of time, but before long he abandons patience in favor of heavy, even thrusts. he hooks his arms under the Captain's shoulders, pressing into his skin wherever he can.]

Hm. Such a pretty liar you are...

[one arm wraps around the back of his neck, while he slips a hand between his legs, running curious fingers along where they're joined before inching up to almost idly rub his clit.]

Never, my dear. Never a lie. [his voice is low and steady, unaffected by the physical effort but still faintly breathless. his fingers curl, digging into the meat of his shoulders, teeth scratching at the curve of his neck.] Gorgeous, beautiful. To the point of obsession. Could stare at you forever...

[he turns his head away, both to give him more access to his neck and hide his face.

he's silent for a moment, beyond hitching breaths, and when he speaks again, it's barely above a whisper.]

... Say more. I... think I like it.

[he gives his neck a hard nip.]

You are stunning. A masterpiece in the making. I can hardly think around you, my beautiful distraction. [he loses himself briefly to the sensation of being inside him, groaning filthier compliments into his skin.] You're so good, darling. So wet, so tight, so responsive...

[a gasp breaks into a loud moan, and he tightens around him for a moment, hips losing the rhythm before slowly trying to regain it. a breathless little laugh.]

Think you could make me come, just from talking... [his fingers hook around his clavicles as he tries to hold on to him.] Wanna make you...

Hmmmm. [there's a joke there about turning himself on with his own voice, but his ego has been thoroughly murdered by his id. instead, he laughs lowly, changing the angle of his thrusts by shifting his hips.]

You're the only one who can. Even if you couldn't, I'd still love you. Still want to make you feel good.

Oh! Oh, god, please, right there...

[he struggles to catch his breath, the bones nearest his mouth growing wet and tacky where it's placed against them.]

Had to... I wanted to research, how to please you, spent hours, watching, reading... [his voice goes a bit lower, almost sly.] I kept getting distracted, thinking about you inside me... I couldn't do it, though. Didn't feel the same.

[those words conjure images to mind that turn his voice to gravel. his knees push his legs further apart, pumping his hips as he angles again for that spot.]

No? I wonder if you could... if I was there to talk you through it. [he slips one arm free, hand reaching to tangle in his hair.] Or maybe help you with other research...

Mm, I bet it'd be easy, then... [he can hardly do much more than hold on at this point, though his voice remains steady, if still at a whisper.] Of course, there's all the experiments I couldn't even begin to do on my own... Like the ones where you tie me up... or throw me over your knee...

[to think that he'd let him have that much physical control, that he'd be comfortable enough to be bound in a very real way -- it floods his mind with a rush of tangled emotions, ones he'll only be able to sort out in the aftermath.]

Is that so... [he pulls his hair, resting his teeth on the spot just below his ear.] A fascinating thought. [he purrs his next words,] You're such a good boy, but if you want me to spank you...

[the quiet affirmative noise he makes comes out more like a whimper than anything else, but there's a grin in his words.]

It's not punishment if it's what I want, is it. [he runs his fingers along his spine, the tips dipping in slightly as he pulls back just a bit of the glamour.] You can do whatever you'd like to me... but only because I want you to do it... and I want everything.

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