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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Not really. It can change based on subconscious desires, even... Though, it's more fun the other way.

[he's laid out on the couch, idly fiddling the edges of his shirt sleeve; his coat is already Gone, Somewhere.]

[it's a combination of care for his clothes and a desire to add some subtle hint of himself to the room. it'll be forgotten eventually, but for now...]

It certainly feels more polite to me. [and yet, it doesn't seem impolite to wordlessly dim the artificial light in the room; there's plenty of supernatural lighting to make up for it.

...changing the couch back into the Midnight Hotel's bed does feel rude, but it is extremely fun.]

[please, like he isn't immediately into the upgrade. he rolls over onto his stomach, peering up at him from where his head rests on his folded arms.]

You know, I might start calling you uncreative if you just go for the same thing every time...

That would make you the first I know you enjoy winning, but surely not at the expense of my fragile ego.

[he's still standing there, watching. he could probably do that all day, if given the option, indulging in his fascination for everything the man does. obsessed was, and likely always will be, the only truly appropriate word for what he feels.]

To be honest, I assumed you were more interested in using the bed than critiquing the form. But, suit yourself. [he basically just wants the dumbest bed possible. funny enough that bed exists, and it vibrates. loudly.]

[he startles like a cat, leaping up onto his hands and knees as he looks down in complete bewilderment; it seems to take him a few good seconds to even realize what's happening. once the dots connect, he just sorta. places his hand flat against the mattress.]

... Well. That does seem creative...

[that earns a laugh, and now he saunters forward, feeling very bold in the face of absurdity.]

I could probably imagine an entire room alongside... [he falls back on the mattress, sprawling out next to the Captain as the bed buzzes with mechanical bees.] But maybe you'd have more fun with that part?

[he shifts closer to him, propping himself up with one hand while the traces the curve of Skulduggery's cheek bone before dropping to rest on his chest.]

... Can't really imagine having much interest in anything else right now. Maybe later.

[he tilts his head into the touch, shifting to lazily reflect his position.] I do love so being the center of your attention. [his own uninvested hand rests on the Captain's thigh.] In case that isn't achingly, painfully obvious by now.

I had my suspicions. [he leans down, presses a kiss to the top of his head.] How convenient, that we both feel the same way.

... I have given you full rights to this space. However you'd like it to look... [a pause] Whatever you'd like to do to me... Whatever you desire. It's yours.

[what a heady notion. it's a combination of trust and desire, and he's almost as eager to take advantage as he is worried he may abuse his newfound freedom.]

Whatever I'd like to do... [that comes right before he pushes the Captain back against the bed, shifting fluidly to his knees as he crowds in, pinning his legs between his own.]

The only thing I want to do is please you. I want to learn what makes you smile, and sigh, and writhe beneath me. [he presses bare teeth against his cheek.] I want very badly to make you scream again. To see your facade slip away because you simply can't think about anything else...

[the noise he makes as he's pressed into the mattress is absolutely a whimper, even if he'll deny it.]

W-Well... You're proving to be rather good at all that... [he puts his arms around him in a loose embrace.] I think I'll like anything, as long as it's from you.

Is that so... [as if his ego needed the additional fuel.] Then you'll have to be very clear with me when you think you don't like something.

[hmmm. the question becomes how creative he wants to be. it truly is a bit like having too many channels to watch...

well, turnabout is fair play. he rakes his fingers up the Captain's chest, over his shirt, until they meet at the first button, curling between the fabric yanking in one fluid motion.]

Oooh, [as the buttons pop and the thread rip audibly,] that is fun.

[a slightly smug grin] Told you so.

[so, of course, he wants to join in on the fun too, helping to yank his shirt the rest of the way off with zero care for how it ends up. not like it's a real shirt, anyway.]

Rest assured that if I decide I don't like something, it won't go on for much longer than that. [now a very smug grin] Do your worst.

[the only concern left is that he might try to push past discomfort out of sheer stubbornness. but Skulduggery can trust him as much as he's being trusted himself.]

My worst...? Hmmm. That'll take some thought. [he scratches his fingers through the hair on his now bare chest, head tilting consideringly as a handful of increasingly filthy ideas come to mind. he leans down, briefly nuzzles his bony face against the Captain's cheek, and then ducks lower to nip at his neck, down the side and around to the hollow of his throat.]

[his legs squirm where they’re trapped between his, head falling back to grant greater access. his gaze remains fixed on him, no matter the angle.]

Mhm, I do love to watch your mind work…

[trapped is such a good word for it, as Skulduggery's legs refuse to budge. he drags his teeth across his jugular, pinching the soft skin briefly, drifting lower still to scrape his collarbone.]

I wonder if you can actually see it. [he lifts his head, unable to articulate the inquisitive stare.] I can still remember what those "shrimp colors" look like... [he raises one hand to offer corresponding scare quotes, then traces those same fingers around a nipple.]

[a quiet laugh, half amusement, half ticklish] I can see like humans do, if I like. As long as the human glamour is intact.

[and not, y’know, cracked like an lobster shell.]

That last time, when it fell… [he bites his lip] I saw shades in you that I’ve never seen before. I don’t know what they were. But, they were beautiful.

[he's nothing more than bone, magic, and terrible things. the idea that anyone would use the word beautiful for him should be laughable. and yet, if he had a heart, it would skip a beat.]

You should be careful -- my ego's fit to burst as it is.

[he moves lower, pelvis straddling the Captain's knees as he drags his hands down his belly. lightly at first, and then harder the second time, until his hands almost reach the waistband of his pants.]

I had fun undressing you last time. I think I'd rather skip the pretense this time. [clothes? seriously. who needs them??]

[a soft smile] Whatever you will, will be.

[in less than a blink, his clothes are gone, and for all that he’s done it to himself, his face still colors slightly.

of course, he’s also taken the liberty to impose his own will, and Skulduggery’s clothes are also gone. don’t worry about it.]

[the joke's on him, that's precisely what Skulduggery wanted!]

Fantastic. [he splays his fingers across either side of the Captain's hips, squeezing the flesh underneath.] It's funny. The first time in hundreds of years I wish I had skin, and it would only be to better feel you. Taste you.

[his hands begin wandering across his skin; his belly, his hips, his thighs, sliding beneath so that he can squeeze his ass. he is, pointedly, avoiding the patch of hair between his legs.]

Not enough to actually want for a face, mind you... [which is why that isn't happening. fuck facades, we're boning down.]

Fortunately, I like you just the way you-- [and the last word is lost in an outright squeak, and he swats his shoulder lightly.]

W-We just need to be creative. As per usual... [it's a little difficult for him to move much - and he's starting to suspect that's the point - but he's sure giving it his best.]

[it's a delightful reaction, one that draws something near a giggle out of him. it's the closest to truly alive he's felt since he crawled out of the river, and he wants more.]

You're going to have to try better than that, darling. [he shifts their position so that he can spread the Captain's thighs out on either side of his femurs. his grip makes it easy to drag their hips together; for now, it's a good thing that this doesn't quite manage any real friction between them.] You might even have to use your words...

Ugh... [and yet, it's worded just enough like a challenge to put a steely set in his eyes. he lets his arms fall above his head, one hand gripping lightly at the sheets.]

I... [a swallow, and he wets his lips.] I want you to fuck me.

[finally, his hours of research are coming in clutch.]

Oh, do you? [despite his teasing, his voice is low and thick with desire, and even without eyes to follow, it's obvious he's taking in the sight below him, committing it to memory.]

With you looking like this, how could I possibly resist?

[he moves his hands between the Captain's thighs, encouraging them further apart. he imagines that, if he were anything more than bone and consciousness...

no forethought or blinking required; there just is. he looks down, sees he's wearing a strap-on and immediately bursts into immature giggles. he smothers it to death via metaphorical pillow, but seeing his mind real-time problem solve for his lack of equipment is A Lot.]

[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.]

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

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