“Git in here, ya frutarkin’ idjit!”
“’M fine Cap’n!”
Yondu dragged him into the dingy hotel room, “Ya took a shot ta tha shoulder, ya dumb ass! Ya ain’t fine!” He pointed to the bed. “Sit!”
When Kraglin looked like he would protest, the Centaurian shot him a glare so fierce it could’ve cut through the bulkhead of the Eclector had they not been stranded on this stupid dirt patch of a planet in the middle of fuck all nowhere.
Thankfully the idiot pair of Ravagers that had fucked it all up were dead. The captain had seen to that the moment he clued in they were trying to screw him.
Kraglin sat reluctantly.
Yondu clattered around in the medicine cabinet, bringing back an armful of stuff and dumping it on the bed beside him. “Take yer shirt off.”
“Cap’n I really dun think that’s necessary –”
Yondu’s eyes narrowed, “Obfonteri, I swear if ya don’t –”
“It’s just ma shoulder sir –”
“Take. It. Off.”
Kraglin sighed heavily, “Yes sir.” He began to remove the top of his jumpsuit.
“Did it hit tha front or tha back?”
“Uh – front Cap’n.”
Yondu waited expectantly, hands on his hips. “Turn ‘round then.”
Kraglin seemed to breath a sigh of relief, which Yondu thought was odd.
What the hell was he trying to hide?
An extra arm?
The Centaurian snorted at the thought. As far as he knew Hraxians were pretty stock standard when it came to body parts – knot, and extra set of needle-sharp retractable teeth aside.
Yondu shucked off his fur-lined coat and tossed it somewhere across the room. If Kraglin got his viscous blue blood on the fur, the shit would never come off.
His skin-tight leathers creaked dangerously as he leaned forwards to get a good look. He winced, standing back up and adjusting the waistband over his gut. He made a mental note to get the tailor to take them out a bit.
Times had been good lately and he'd been living a little - larger than usual.
Step off about it, or you’ll get yourself hurt, ya hear?
The myriad of chains bounced off his chest as he leaned over again. He squinted at the wound, scratching behind a pointed ear. “Looks like it went straight through Krags. Ya’ll be fine. Just gotta clean it up some, an’ ya’ll c’n go back ta tearin’ out throats in no time.”
Kraglin snickered, “Thank sir.”
Yondu picked up a bottle of rubbing alcohol, taking a deep swig before slapping some on a rag.
The Hraxian snorted, “Dun think yer supposed ta drink tha’ stuff Cap’n.”
The older man smirked. “This gon’ hurt.”
Kraglin tensed and he applied it haphazardly, the taller man hissed and Yondu heard the quiet snick of his teeth pushing their way through his gums behind the blunt ones.
“Yes’sir.” His speech was slightly slurred due to the extra set.
“Ya fight them instincts what wanna take a chunk outta me. Don’t’chu be snappin’ at me neither, right?”
Kraglin chuckled, “No’sir.”
The Centaurian leaned over a hairy shoulder to clean the front of the wound. “Yer such a stupid fucker.”
Kraglin hissed again as Yondu slapped some gauze on the area. “How so?”
"Ya stepped in front’a that shot fer me." The Centaurian watched the blue flush creep up Kraglin’s neck.
"I - uh -" He sighed, "I didn’t wanna see ya shot sir."
"Well that’s awful nice o’ ya - but yer still an idjit."
"But," Yondu continued as if he hadn’t spoken, "yer my idjit first mate so I guess ‘s alrigh’."
Kraglin snorted, then winced as it jarred his shoulder. "Well that’s right nice ta hear sir."
Yondu grinned, picking up a bandage. As he did, he noticed a vivid red line that wound its way around his back, almost four times. The Centaurian followed it with his eyes, wondering what the hell it was. "Turn ‘round Kraggles. Gotta bandage ya up."
"Uh - c-can’t ya do it from there Cap’n?"
He could - but Kraglin Obfonteri was always the picture of confidence.
He never stuttered.
"Nah. Can’t do it proper. Turn ‘round yeah?"
Kraglin turned bunching his t-shirt over his heart. Yondu was about to expire from curiosity.
What in the seven blue hells was he hiding?
The Centaurian wound the bandage around his first mate’s wound and pinned it in place. He heard the quiet sound of the Hraxian’s teeth retracting and smirked.
Kraglin smiled, "Thanks Cap’n."
The Hraxian moved the shirt to replace it over his head and Yondu caught a glimpse of something tattooed over his hairy chest.
His hand reached out of its own accord stopping Kraglin’s movements. When he went to pull the Hraxian’s arm away he met resistance and looked him in the eyes.
Some would say eyes are the window to the soul. Yondu reckoned that was utter shit. They was eyes - ya used ‘em ta see that were tha extent o’ it - none o’ that romantic crap.
What he saw in Kraglin’s cloudy blue ones was a hint of fear. The Hraxian sighed, closing his eyes and cringing like he was expecting a punch. He slowly moved his arm away.
They were both littered with tattoos, that was no surprise in their line of work, but this one - this one Yondu had never seen. In fact, he didn’t remember ever seeing his first mate without a shirt.
The red lines weren’t lines at all.
They were a trail.
Leading to an incredibly detailed depiction of an arrow.
The Centaurian swallowed with a click.
Tattooed on Kraglin’s chest.
Right over his heart.
Yondu was surprised to see his hand shaking when he reached out to trace the fletching on almost translucent skin.
Over Kraglin’s heart.
The man had willingly put a very important part of what made up Yondu Udonta on his skin.
Yondu had never been so hard, so fast in all his life.
He heard Kraglin swallow and looked up. He was staring wide eyed at Yondu, fear and uncertainty projected in his gaze.
"This - I -" Yondu cursed and started the sentence again. "That’s ma arrow."
Kraglin looked away nervously, "Uh - yeah - yeah it is. I -" He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Look - at first I thought it were ‘cause we’s so close, I wanted - I dunno a part’a ya wit’ me. Then - it took me a long while ta figure out that maybe that weren’t all it was. I - ma feelin’s fer ya dun git in tha way o’ work or our - uh – yeah, fuck it - our friendship. I accepted tha’ ya dun feel tha same an’ that’s ok - believe me. I’d rather have ya in ma life in any respect than not at all."
He’d had no fucking idea.
Kraglin frowned slightly, "Sir?"
Yondu suddenly leaned forwards and clumsily pressed his lips against Kraglin’s.
The fact he’d never kissed anyone before didn’t really enter his head. His instincts just screamed at him do to it and Yondu - being the impulsive kinda guy he was - did.
Kraglin flailed briefly, arms hovering uselessly before he groaned, and his hands drifted down to sink his fingers into the meat of Yondu’s hips.
The Centaurian crawled onto the rickety bed, forcing Kraglin onto his back. He tore his mouth away, head immediately ducking down to run his mouth along the tattoo.
Kraglin arched up under him, "Shit!"
"‘S so fuckin’ hot." Yondu murmured against his skin, words falling like hushed rain, "Had no idea. Ya got tha essence o’ who I am on ya. Ain’t n’er been so hard." He looked up at him through his long dark lashes, "Wanna ride ya Kraglin."
The Hraxian’s head thumped back onto the bed, eyes squeezed shut. "Sounds like a mighty fine thing sir."
Yondu ripped at the jumpsuit before his mind could quite catch up with what he was doing. The primal need to mark Kraglin as his overflowing into every pore. He wasn’t gentle or slow about any of it, tearing the seam of the Hraxian’s boxers in his haste to remove them. He lapped at the tip of the rock-hard dick as he struggled with his own far too tight pants.
It wasn’t often Yondu really let go and thought with only his instincts and his dick, but Kraglin’s tattoo did things to him he couldn’t quite describe in words. Kicking at his pants viciously, one boot - which he never did up properly anyway - dropped off his foot, the other was flung across the room so violently it stuck into the plasterboard with a crack.
Yondu’s harsh pants mixed with Kraglin’s and the Hraxian’s abs strained as he looked down at the Centaurian’s face. The older man’s eyes flicked up to his as he took the straining cock in front of his face into his mouth. Kraglin’s head thumped against the mattress again, ignoring the throb in his injured shoulder. One blue hand came up to tweak the nipple right above the tattoo, the other ghosted grubby fingers over his lips. Kraglin’s breath hitched roughly and he sucked them into his mouth, ignoring the blood and dirt he could taste under the nails.
A hot gust of rancid breath brushed across his dick as Yondu pulled off, "‘At’s it Krags, git ‘em nice an’ sloppy." The grizzled, lust slurred drawl hit him like a shot to the chest. A fresh wave of spit filled his mouth and he struggled to keep his teeth retracted and in check.
The Centaurian pulled his fingers with a pop and a string of saliva connected to Kraglin’s lips broke. Yondu winked at him with a grimy leer, spit slicked fingers reaching behind himself.
Seconds later that tongue was back, swirling around the head of his cock and his eyed drifted closed, feeling the heat running down his spine. The vibrations of Yondu’s increasing moans were driving him crazy and he quickly reached down to squeeze the base of his dick, just above the knot.
"Ya dun git up here an’ fuck me like ya wanted ta right now, Imma cum down yer throat." His voice sounded foreign to his ears, low and snarling.
"Sugar - ya say tha sweetest things." Came the husky drawl as Yondu crawled up the bed. Those plush thighs settled on either side of Kraglin’s thin hips and he took a shaky breath. His fingers traced the tattoos that ran along Yondu’s hips and curled around his sides. Big, thick lines of black, contrasting perfectly with blue skin.
The Centaurian gave him a heady look, as he gripped the base of Kraglin’s cock and let gravity take him down to the knot. The puffy ring of muscle popped into Yondu and both of them groaned.
Yondu fell forwards onto his elbows and plundered Kraglin’s mouth in a vicious click of teeth and curling tongues. His thighs shook wildly as he lifted himself up and sank back down, settling himself into a steady rhythm.
Kraglin growled low in his throat, pushing Yondu’s mouth back as his teeth came down against his will. They narrowly missed puncturing the Centaurian’s tongue, scraping across the little sliver ball that was nestled in the centre.
Yondu pushed himself up, throwing his head back and moaning loudly. Kraglin stared up in awe at the vision before him.
He had no idea Yondu could look so incredibly sexy.
Kraglin groaned, arching up as he gripped those chunky hips and held on for all he was worth.
One blue hand found a place over Kraglin’s tattooed heart as the other gripped his length, tugging it roughly in time with his movements. The Hraxian gasped, barely holding onto the orgasm that soared in his veins.
Thankfully, the Centaurian came a minute later and Kraglin was instantly pulled along for the ride. His eyes closed in ecstasy, but the vision of his captain riding him was burned into his retinas like a brand.
Yondu flopped forwards with a satisfied sound, kissing Kraglin in a lazy tangle of tongues. He pulled himself off with an obscene sound, chuckling at the mess of come that ran down his leg, "We made a mess Kraggles."
"Yes’sir." He managed to heave out, pulse racing.
Yondu clambered up the bed, shuffling around under the covers until he was comfortable. He held them up, raising a brow expectantly.
Kraglin smirked, mindful of his injured shoulder as he peeled himself off the sweat soaked comforter and slid in beside his captain.
Yondu curled around him like a stocky blue cat and Kraglin buried his face into the craggy skin that lined the man’s implant.
He smirked wryly, "Night Cap’n."
Kraglin had been convinced it was a one time thing for weeks.
Until one day Yondu turned up on the bridge -
With a new tattoo.
Of Kraglin’s favourite knife.
Right over his heart.
The detailing carved into the hilt was flawless.
Yondu met his eyes with a filthy leer.
And Kraglin returned it.