Actions

Work Header

I'll Carry You Home Tonight

Work Text:

The thing that had been growing for so long between Silver and Flint finally came to a head as they trained on the cliffs above the Maroon settlement, alone and unencumbered by the roles which defined them to the rest of the world.

Silver hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Flint had told him, the night they buried the cache. An affair, the captain had called it. Such a polite term. But what it meant was that Flint had touched another man, brought another man pleasure. Might want to again. These were no longer merely fevered imaginings, nor the forbidden dreams Silver had grown so adept at pushing away in the light of day. This had happened. The same lips that smiled in approval when Silver fought well had also kissed this Thomas Hamilton. The same hand that gripped the hilt of Flint’s sword had wrapped around another man’s cock and…

It became impossible for Silver to pretend that the way his chest ached and his pulse quickened when he looked at Flint was about simple partnership.

“Why him?” Silver asked abruptly one day, unable to bear it any longer. He was standing breathless and defeated when he spoke the words, with Flint’s sword resting against his throat.

It was a stupid question, but somehow Flint understood that Silver meant Why not me? He cupped Silver’s face and kissed him long and slow, lingering over his lips, hands buried in his hair. Flint kissed him like he was a gift, a revelation, like it was all he wanted in the world. Flint’s lips on his marked the culmination of months of tumult between them, and Silver thought he must have been blind not to have seen that it would end here. He fell into it, steadied by Flint’s strong arms, licking hungrily into his mouth, exulting in the freedom to touch at long last.

It left him hard and aching. But Flint refused to do more until Silver had spoken to Madi. “I will not hide this from her,” Flint said. “And I would not come between the two of you. But I do not believe her to be a woman who would force you to make such a choice.”

It took Silver several days to work up his courage. During that time, his bouts with Flint took on a wild intensity. Silver couldn’t resist finding ways to cause Flint to touch him, but Flint didn’t allow Silver’s games, instead pushing him harder in retribution, until Silver was left aching and covered in bruises. He treasured each of the marks as a reminder of the barely checked hunger in Flint’s eyes as he inflicted them.

When he finally brought himself to tell Madi, to his astonishment she reacted exactly as Flint had predicted. “Your desire for Flint has never lessened your devotion to me,” she said, “Any more than the reverse is true. What is between you and your Captain is very complicated, but I think perhaps this is the most simple part.”

When told of Madi’s blessing, Flint had pushed Silver against a rock face and kissed him hard, with all of the barely contained passion of the past days, then dropped to his knees before him. Silver had thought he would die from the pleasure of Flint’s mouth on him, thought he would break apart, melt into nothing with the force of it that first time. He had been with men before, but never as a matter of preference, and it had never been like this. This was driven by something deep and primal, not a substitute for anything but exactly what he had wanted for so long. And Flint was fucking good at it, the skill and intensity he brought to everything evident here as well. Silver couldn’t get enough. For days they barely pretended to train, too caught up in their desperation for each other.

The cliffs were theirs. But down in the world, they were still Captain and Quartermaster, and perhaps now King as well. It surprised Silver how easy it was to pretend there was nothing more; he was hardly able to believe, as he and Flint sat together in war councils, or argued about the practicalities of how best to direct resources, that later he would be permitted to lick the sweat from Flint's skin, to bite into his freckled flesh. He bit hard, just to know there were marks hidden under the captain’s clothing.

Silver wondered if Flint was also distracted by such thoughts; if he was, there was certainly no sign.

And all the while, across the West Indies, unrest was spreading. Reports abounded of uprisings, and of groups of people still enslaved but ready to fight if provided arms and support. Rarely did these matters require direct intervention, but from time to time a personal appearance was needed, an assurance of commitment from the most recognizable pirate leaders. Such was the situation which required Flint to meet secretly with a contact in Port Royal, to confirm tactical support to a revolt at a large plantation.

Silver almost never participated in these expeditions. His presence brought too much risk, and in any case he had come to serve as a bridge between the pirates and the Maroons, alongside Madi, and was busy on the island. But this time both Madi and Billy encouraged his presence, for different reasons.

“They need to see you,” said Billy, “to know that you can appear anywhere and melt away again, and that the war follows you. We’ll plan an assault inland at the same time. Rumor will spread quickly.”

“You need time to be with him,” said Madi. “Just the two of you, away from all of this. You need time to be yourselves with each other, as you and I are permitted to do here.”

So it was that they sailed to Port Royal with a skeleton crew. While Billy vanished into the interior with a small band of men, Silver and Flint entered a tavern, a safe haven firmly under pirate control.

They drew looks, of course. Conversations stopped, and whispers spread, but the men knew better than to do anything but mind their own affairs. Word of their presence would spread, but not so quickly that they couldn’t disappear before real danger arrived. At least Silver hoped not. He wasn’t eager to put his lessons with Flint to the test just yet.

They made their way across the room, which was growing dim as dusk settled. Flint leaned casually against the bar, addressing the large, grizzled hulk of a man on the other side. “You know who we are?” he asked, voice just loud enough to carry. The man jerked his head in affirmation, refusing to be impressed.

“We’re not here for anything to do with any of you. In fact, we’re not here at all.” Flint slid a few gold coins across the rough hewn wood. “So tell whoever you need to tell that we’d appreciate a quiet evening?” His brow was furrowed, a slight, almost conspiratorial smile on his face, somehow performing the motions of a friendly chat while communicating imminent violence.

“Now I’ve got no—”

Flint continued as if the man hadn’t spoken. “Also, we’ll need a room.”

Silver had assumed they’d return to the ship that night. Had looked forward to it, with almost everyone else ashore, thought perhaps they could steal an hour without being noticed or interrupted. But this… they had never shared a bed, not properly, never had time and comfort. Silver felt a fluttering of anticipation in his stomach as he thought about the possibilities.

Flint’s voice dropped so that the conversation could no longer be overheard. “And I’ll want your assurance that we won’t be disturbed. We’ve business to conduct, business that no one else ought be aware of.” This time he was much more discreet in slipping a sizable leather pouch to the barkeep. “You understand?”

The man quickly palmed the pouch, his eyes widening slightly as he felt its weight. “Upstairs, end of the right hand corridor,” he said, and handed Flint a key. “Usually don’t let rooms on that side.” He set a bottle and two cups on the bar as well, which Flint picked up. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything else we can do for you.”

“Fuck, how much money did you just give him?” Silver asked as they made their way to a table in a shadowed back corner.

“Does it matter?” Flint asked, shooting Silver a wicked lopsided grin that dispelled any doubts about his intentions. “Can’t think of a better cause.”

They settled in to wait for the man they were to meet, Silver sliding in next to Flint on the bench so that they both had their backs to the wall. Most of the room’s occupants watched them, some furtively and some with open curiosity. A few approached to pay their respects, and Silver dismissed them with such easy charm that they left feeling as though they had been let into his confidence, and given an important part in the pirates’ cause.

“You’re very good at that,” Flint said mildly, and Silver felt heat start on his face and spread down his neck and chest, blending with the warmth of the rum they’d been drinking. He was acutely aware of Flint’s body beside him.

When the interloping pirate leaders didn’t show any sign of fighting a battle on the spot, interest in them waned. By the time a cloaked figure slipped onto the bench opposite them, the arrival went almost unnoticed

As they talked through scenarios surrounding the planned revolt and its aftermath, Silver found his mind wandering. He was preoccupied with Flint’s casual implication about what the night would hold, inflamed by the knowledge that Flint planned to have him after, had thought about it. Must be thinking about it now, or could he truly dismiss such things at will?

They were almost touching, close enough that Silver could feel Flint’s heat, smell his scent of leather and salt. Their proximity was unremarkable in the crowded space, certainly nothing the man speaking to them would notice. The secret they kept lived just under Silver’s skin, exhilarating in its possibilities. If he shifted just slightly, their thighs would touch.

He did.

The place where their bodies met shone bright in Silver’s consciousness, a line of heat from which tendrils of shivering sensation radiated. Flint’s eyes flickered to him for only an instant. Otherwise there was no acknowledgment from the captain, no pause or tremor in his speech.

And no movement away.

Silver’s heartbeat thudded loud in his ears, competing with the conversation he was still nominally a part of. He made himself focus for a moment, putting in a useful comment, a demonstration that he could appear unaffected as well. As he spoke, he gestured with a hand and then let it fall casually in his lap. Except that, hidden by the table and the darkness, it fell to rest more on Flint’s leg than his own.

Silver had played games like this with previous lovers, enjoyed the thrill of doing forbidden things in plain sight. Judging by the way Flint leaned ever so slightly into the contact between them, and the barely audible strain in his voice as he bid their contact farewell, he did too. Silver let his fingers drift lightly over the thin fabric of the captain’s trousers.

“What are you doing?” Flint asked in a sharp undertone as soon as they were alone.

In lieu of an answer, Silver slid his hand further up Flint’s thigh, watching carefully to gauge his reaction; he recognized the subtle signs of the effect he was having. This was dangerous, but he wasn’t wrong: Flint’s breath quickened, the rise and fall of his chest becoming visible; he was perfectly still but brimming with tension, muscles quivering, like a highly strung horse about to bolt.

“What does it look like?” Silver asked, daring to slide his fingertips further up to brush the length of Flint’s cock, full and rigid as he knew it would be, trapped by tight fabric. There was a small, sharp intake of breath.

“Stop it,” Flint said gruffly.

“I don’t think you want me to stop,” Silver said, low so only Flint could hear him. It was the same tone he had used months ago, when he couldn’t have imagined what they would become. When he’d stood far too close to Flint, let his voice drop smooth and hypnotic, and spoken of how Flint needed him. Tell me I’m wrong. He’d suspected the effect it had on Flint even then. Now he knew, and reveled in exploiting the knowledge.

“I think you love this,” Silver murmured. “Getting away with it in a room full of people. That’s what makes you hard, isn’t it? Knowing they can see you?” He was pleased to feel Flint’s cock jump under his touch, and see his throat bob as he swallowed.

Silver curled his fingers around the thick shaft, stroking as best he could. It was a slightly awkward movement through the cloth, but he didn’t dare try for more, and from the way Flint’s hands dug into the tabletop and the thick column of his cock hardened impossibly further in Silver’s hand, he thought this would be effective enough.

“I think you like knowing that if you make a single noise, you’ll be caught like this,” he breathed. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want me to make you come right here.”

Flint did not tell him to stop. “I hope you’re enjoying this,” he said instead, voice tight and low, “because you are going to fucking pay for it.” The twitch of a muscle in the captain’s jaw and a flush high on his cheekbones were all that betrayed his state as Silver’s hand moved faster.

Despite Flint’s veneer of control, Silver could sense the growing tension in his body, feel him getting close. “Oh?” Silver murmured, playfully flirtatious, feeling giddy at the reality of what he was doing. “Are you going to punish me?”

Flint turned his head and met Silver’s gaze for the first time since this had started, eyes blazing fierce and dark, mouth twisted into a threatening smile. He looked every inch the ferocious captain, wild and bloodthirsty, and Silver shuddered even as his prick throbbed. Suddenly he wasn’t quite so confident that this would be a harmless game. But he didn’t let his movements falter.

Flint’s face remained almost still but for a telltale tightening of his jaw and a slight flare of his nostrils as his cock pulsed hard under Silver’s touch. “Yes,” he hissed, eyes still locked on Silver’s, spending into the cloth of his trousers.

Flint took one deep, steadying breath. “Get upstairs,” he ordered, and though his voice was soft it had a lethal edge. Silver hesitated for just a moment, painfully aware of how obvious his erection would be if he stood. “Go,” Flint snarled, and Silver hastened to obey, adjusting himself as best he could.

It took an eternity to pick his way through the crowded tavern, and for once he hoped that the glances he drew would stop at his missing lower leg. He could sense Flint’s presence close behind him, and apprehension mixed with his excitement as he made his way haltingly up the stairs and down the corridor to the room they’d been given. Flint had wanted it, Silver told himself, he hadn’t misjudged the strength of the captain’s response, obviously he hadn’t. But now that the moment of passion had passed, would Flint be genuinely angry with him? Had he pushed too far?

Flint unlocked the door and gestured Silver in, followed him through and barred it behind them.

Silver started to turn, and in one fluid movement Flint grabbed him by the hair and pinned him to the wall, looming over him. “What the fuck was that?” Flint snarled at him, their faces mere inches apart. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What could have happened?” Flint’s hand twisted in Silver's curls, painfully tight; one strong thigh had forced its way between his legs, shoving into his still hard cock. It had to be intentional, didn’t it? Silver tried to reassure himself. Flint’s eyes were burning, savage, but surely there was lust there as well as anger.

“All because, what, you couldn’t wait?” Flint asked harshly. “You couldn’t control yourself for another hour?” Silver was flooded with memories of all of the times they’d been like this before, all the times he’d had to restrain himself, to pretend to be unaffected. He couldn’t pretend now, not after everything, not with Flint this close and in this mood. He whimpered and bit his lip, angling his hips to increase the contact between them.

“Look at you, you can’t stop even now, can you?” Flint’s voice was rough and dark, low by Silver’s ear. He pushed his leg forward pointedly and Silver ground wantonly against it, unable to help himself. If he was reading this wrong Flint would probably kill him, but at least he would leave this world feeling the thick, corded muscles of Flint’s thigh, and fuck but the captain had such beautiful legs, all of him was so—

“I can’t help but feel you aren’t taking this very seriously, Mr. Silver.” Flint’s eyes glittered, dangerous and seductive as he spoke. “Now what should I do about that?”

Silver’s body thrilled at the words as if they had been a caress. He felt reckless, unmoored. He closed his eyes briefly, wondered how stupid he was being, and breathed, “I thought you said you were going to punish me.”

“Hm,” Flint looked down at him, scrutinizing. “Is that what this is about then? Is that what you want?”

Silver had never felt more exposed, or more aroused, than he did as he whispered in reply, “Please, Captain.”

Abruptly, all of the points of contact which had held Silver steady disappeared. Flint stepped away, leaving him to slide halfway down the wall before he stopped himself.

“Strip, and get on the bed.” Flint’s manner was cold and authoritative; this was the stern commander who orchestrated the war by Silver’s side, the version of Flint that Silver had never been quite able to reconcile with the intimacy of their encounters.

Silver crossed the room, face burning under Flint’s gaze. The captain watched impassively as Silver removed his clothing, piece by piece dropping to the floor. When he was naked he sat on the edge of the bed and lifted his eyes to Flint, who raised an eyebrow. Silver undid the leather straps of the boot, and removed that too.

Flint nodded his approval, and dropped his hands to the buckle of his belt “Turn over, and hold on to the bedframe,” he ordered.

Silver did as he was told, lying on his stomach, his naked back and buttocks exposed, taut muscles rippling as he reached over his head to grasp the iron railing. A moment later he felt a cool weight dragging over his ass. He looked over his shoulder to see Flint running the studded leather of his wide belt over his newly bared skin. Silver’s breath hitched, a frisson of excitement and trepidation running through him. Though he’d asked for this, invited it—for what else could he have possibly meant?—he hadn’t been quite prepared for Flint to take their game this far.

“If you let go of the railing, I will stop,” Flint said. Silver heard it as both a threat and an assurance, a way out if he needed one. “Do you understand?”

Silver was very conscious of the fabric of the sheets along the front of his body, the gentle currents of air cool against his burning skin, everything already feeling heightened, sensitized. He nodded.

There was a single, sharp crack of the belt against Silver’s flesh. He cried out more in surprise than pain, although in instants stinging heat blossomed where the blow had fallen.

“I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, Captain,” Silver gasped.

“That’s better. I imagine you’ve been whipped often, the mouth you have.” Flint brushed the worked leather very lightly over Silver’s skin again, eliciting a small moan and a shiver. “You always like it this much?” Flint asked.

“N-no Captain,” Silver answered, remembering to speak out loud this time. His cock was full and rigid, trapped under his body.

Another blow fell, harder. Silver couldn’t stifle a small cry. He shifted slightly against the mattress, the sweet friction a delicious counterpoint to the smarting ache where he had been struck.

“But you like it now, don’t you?” Flint asked. This time the belt landed across Silver’s upper thighs, which were less padded, less inured to this kind of pain. Silver felt an ache in the base of his throat, a tightening in his chest. Hot tears prickled behind his eyes.

Yes.” It was barely more than a whisper, a raw admission forced from him as his defenses crumbled under the assault of competing sensations. The pain wasn’t remarkable, nothing compared to what Silver still suffered in his leg on a regular basis, but it touched something inside him, the memories of real humiliation he’d suffered like this blending powerfully with his arousal, and it threatened to overwhelm him. He fought not to rut into the mattress, trying to maintain some semblance of control, if only for the heady anticipation of Flint stripping it away.

“Why’s that?” Flint demanded. Silver had to wrench his mind back to the question. Why, why did he like it now. He hesitated too long, trying to put it into words, and yelped when Flint brought the belt down again, lightning fast, the leather biting solidly across the curve of his ass.

“Because it's you,” Silver confessed on a breath. His skin was stinging now, and he was sure welts would be rising on it.

“That’s right,” Flint growled. “I should have had you whipped when we first found you. Tied you to the mast and let everyone see. Should have done it myself.”

Another lash, hard, and Silver whimpered into the pillow, helplessly responding to the degrading images conjured by the captain. This wasn’t something he wanted, not something he’d ever found exciting the way some did; he’d experienced enough real pain in his life to have no appetite for it as love play. And yet imagining it like that, being displayed by Flint, exposed and claimed for all to see, was exhilarating, and it made his trapped cock twitch and leak.

“Maybe that would have saved us trouble. Maybe then you would have learned better than to act so rashly where I am concerned.” Flint trailed his fingertips lightly over the reddened skin of Silver’s ass. It throbbed in residual pain under the touch, radiating heat as Silver squirmed helplessly.

“I could’ve taken you back to my cabin afterward.” Flint let his fingers drift over the cleft of Silver’s ass. “Seen how far you’d let me go.” He dipped his hand lower, between Silver’s legs, and almost instinctively Silver pushed his hips back, exposing himself.

Flint brushed a fingertip experimentally over Silver’s entrance. “Is that what you want?”

Silver hesitated. They hadn’t done this, not really, not beyond a finger pressed into him as Flint used his mouth, though that was something Silver had quickly learned drove him mad. It wasn’t that he was entirely inexperienced, but in the past it had always been uncomfortable, a favor or an obligation, never something he would have chosen.

But he wanted it now. As the captain’s fingers brushed over the tight bud of his entrance he strained into the touch, craving contact there in a way which excited him all the more for how terribly perverse it felt.

“Yes. Just…” he wasn’t quite sure how to ask, how to communicate that this wasn’t something in which he thought he could enjoy the pain, as he had when Flint had struck him. He looked back at Flint, sure some of his nervousness showed on his face.

“Hm,” Flint said thoughtfully, tracing featherlight over the angry marks that covered Silver’s backside. “No, I won’t hurt you. I think you’ve had enough of that for tonight. But I’m not done with you yet, either. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Silver replied, the word coming more easily than he would have expected.

“Good.” Flint grasped Silver’s haunches and guided him up enough to slide a cushion underneath his hips, then pushed his legs apart with a knee. It left him obscenely exposed, and his face burned as he felt Flint looking down at him.

“Same as before,” Flint said, as he settled between Siver’s splayed thighs. “Let go of the rail, and I stop.”

Silver expected the exploring touch of fingers to return, and was completely unprepared when Flint’s tongue swiped lightly over him instead, brushing just there and— “Oh fuck,” Silver swore, convulsing at the sharp, sudden burst of sensation that carried the whole way to his extremities, almost making him lose his grip on the bed frame from shock alone. He looked back over his shoulder, eyes wide. “Fucking Christ, really?”

Flint raised his head for a moment and shot Siver a smug grin in lieu of an answer. Then he refocused his attention, licking a long swath from the base of Silver’s balls up to the tight, puckered flesh of his opening; he lapped at it gently with the flat of his tongue, and Silver felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin as maddening shivers spread through him. He’d never felt quite so much of anything; he panted and squirmed helplessly, the resulting friction against his cock adding another layer of exquisite torment.

Flint’s tongue circled Silver’s entrance, and Silver became distantly aware of wordless, high pitched whining before he realized it issued from his own throat. It wasn’t until he was pushing back eagerly that Flint breached him, licking gently into him, making the ring of muscle flutter. Flint’s tongue was soft and forgiving, pliant, an intrusion completely absent the pain Silver had feared. Flint groaned against him, sound vibrating through sensitized skin, and the thought that Flint enjoyed this was as arousing as the rest of it combined. Big hands spread him wide as Flint increased his explorations, plunging his tongue in as far in as he could push it, fucking him with it slow and deep.

Without meaning to Silver began rocking his hips; he thrust forward into the cushion under him and back onto Flint’s tongue, thighs tense and trembling, balls tightening as pleasure mounted and fuck, he was going to come like this, with Flint’s tongue inside him, needed just a little more—

Flint pulled his mouth away and grasped Silver’s hips, hard, stilling their movement. “Oh no,” Flint said, breathless. “You can’t think it’ll be that easy for you. On your back, and then as you were.”

The loss of stimulation was almost painful, but Silver forced himself to obey, turning over and immediately stretching his arms over his head to once again grasp the iron frame, now warm from his touch, familiar and grounding. He winced when his abused backside came to rest on the mattress, even the fine sheets feeling abrasive against the welts and bruises left by Flint’s handiwork.

Flint let out a little huff of laughter. “You see? There are consequences for your lack of restraint.” Flint’s tone was controlled, but now that they faced each other Silver could see the captain was nearly as lost to this as he was himself; there was a feral light in Flint’s eyes and his chest heaved as his breath came quickly through swollen lips; his cock jutted hard and red from between his legs. Silver barely had the presence of mind to wonder when he had taken off his clothes.

“You want more?” Flint asked, his rough voice a challenge as much as an offer.

“Yes.”

“Spread your legs.” Flint settled between splayed thighs, dropping a hand to explore Silver’s still relaxed opening, testing before sliding a finger inside. It met barely any resistance, and almost immediately Silver was begging for more.

“Hm, so eager for it,” Flint said appreciatively, watching Silver’s reactions with the air of a hungry predator. “If only I’d known you needed it like this.” He added a second finger, allowing Silver time to accustom himself to the sensation before he started to move them slowly in and out.

“God, I could have had you so many times, couldn’t I?” Flint’s fingers crooked forward, searching, finding the spot that sent bolts of deep, shuddering pleasure through Silver, making him gasp and buck up into the touch. “When we took the warship, I think you would have let me fuck you right there,” Flint said. “Christ I wanted to.”

Silver remembered, remembered so well the feel of Flint’s body pinning him, cold steel at his throat as he tried to talk the captain down from his rage, all the while praying his hardening prick would go unnoticed. He’d thought about it while he touched himself for months after.

Flint’s fingers worked inside Silver as he spoke, caressing, sending sensual currents curling through his body, making his untouched cock jump and leak profusely.

“Should’ve put you up against the wall,” Flint continued, “kept my hand over your mouth so you couldn’t make a sound.” Silver had felt this before, but only in concert with Flint’s mouth, never as the sole focus; had never known it could be this way, so good but almost too much so that he couldn’t tell if his pleading cries were for mercy or escalation. “Then once it was ours, I would’ve bent you over the desk and fucked you ‘til you screamed, let everyone hear you, let them know just what I do to you.”

“Oh God, fuck,” Silver choked out, body convulsing around Flint’s hand as a third finger pushed into him, stretching him open; the captain’s words and the relentless stroking inside him combined to drive him nearly mad. Ripples of pure ecstasy coursed through him; fluid surged from his neglected cock, far more than he’d thought possible, and it was almost the feeling of climax but with no release, the exquisite sensation building until it was nearly unbearable. He twisted and writhed, urgently seeking completion just out of his reach.

“You wanna come?” Flint demanded, with an almost cruel twist of his fingers. “Beg me.”

“Please, oh fuck, please touch me Captain,” Silver babbled as he clung white knuckled to the railing, arching his whole body fruitlessly off the bed in search of contact against his swollen prick. “Please I can’t, I need it, fucking need it just… please.”

“No.” Flint withdrew his hand, and Silver couldn’t choke back a sob, feeling the loss keenly as his loosened muscles clenched around sudden emptiness.

“You thought to amuse yourself by playing games with me, well, now it's my turn. You will take exactly what I give you.” Flint’s voice barely betrayed a hint of strain, but his eyes were so dark Silver could barely make out a ring of green as they fixed on his. “Given what you put me through earlier, I think I deserve to come again before you get to. Don’t you agree?”

Silver watched Flint kneel between his legs, stroking his own cock demonstratively, and it was the only thing in the world Silver wanted, the only thing that would satisfy the aching void inside him. “Yes,” he breathed. “Please yes.”

“Hmm,” Flint murmured, dragging his fingers through the pool of liquid that had gathered on Silver’s stomach, under the leaking tip of his prick. He rubbed his fingertips together and then reached up to press them to Silver’s lips, which parted instinctively. Silver licked and sucked eagerly, helplessly aroused at the slippery salt tang of his own taste; he tried to draw Flint’s fingers further into his mouth, but Flint pulled his hand away, bringing it back to the slickness on Silver’s belly. This time used it to coat his own cock, then aligned it with Silver’s entrance, barely touching, teasing. “Think that’ll be enough to fuck you?”

Yes,” Silver was moments from breaking down and begging again. Flint’s eyes found his and held them as he pushed forward so that the head of his cock slid in. It was bigger than his fingers had been, and Silver groaned deep and low in satisfaction at the aching stretch as Flint sank into him. With so much preparation there wasn’t pain, not exactly, only the strange sensation of fullness, which Silver had remembered as unpleasant, but now it was an immense relief, a completion of his own being.

For a moment the dynamic they’d slipped into for the evening evaporated, all thoughts of games and punishments gone, and Silver saw the wonder he felt reflected in Flint’s face. Flint leaned forward to kiss him, slow and deep, and could it possibly be the first time they’d kissed all night? It was a comfort, a reassurance that Silver desperately needed as he was flooded with the raw vulnerability of letting another person so intimately inside him, close as any two could be.

“Christ,” Flint breathed against his mouth when they broke apart, voice ragged, “you feel so good.”

Silver moaned and leaned up to catch Flint’s lips again. “Please,” he whispered, flexing his hands on the rails and rocking up onto Flint’s cock, inviting him to move. To resume.

Flint rose to his knees, taking hold of Silver’s right leg and bracing it against his shoulder. The position granted him even deeper access, and he slowly rolled his hips, letting Silver feel every inch of him before he pulled nearly the whole way out and then sank in again.

“God, how you look,” Flint said roughly, gazing down at the place where their bodies were joined, “you take me so well.” He set a steady, easy rhythm now, and changed the angle just slightly, experimenting until he drew a desperate, keening cry from Silver. “Oh that’s it, you’re fucking made for it aren’t you?”

Flint’s words were a caress, enflaming Silver’s overtaxed senses; Flint’s cock was hitting him just right every few strokes now, so that he was once again wracked by the delicious full body tremors that reduced him almost to incoherence, and it was all he could do to form broken affirmations along with his pleading, whimpering cries as pleasure built inside him.

“Look at me.” Silver didn’t realize until he heard Flint’s breathless order that he’d turned his head away, let his eyes fall closed at the intensity of it. “Look at me when I come in you.”

Silver raised his eyes and Flint pinned him with a dark, wild gaze as he thrust into him hard, rhythm growing erratic. “You’re mine,” Flint growled as he sank in deep a final time, hips stuttering, and then Silver could feel Flint’s cock pulsing, feel it spilling in a hot flood inside him as Flint came with a wordless shout.

Silver clenched around him, thrashing, straining for more and surely Flint would touch him now, it would take only the smallest brush of a hand on his cock, he was so close to the edge again but he just couldn’t do it like this, he fucking needed— “Please,” he begged, far beyond caring, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, his voice breaking, “Please, fucking please let me—”

So far had he turned himself over to Flint’s control that it didn’t even occur to him that he could let go of the railing, that nothing prevented him from ending this himself.

“Shhh,” Flint soothed, leaning over to kiss him tenderly. “You’ve done so well.”

Flint carefully withdrew his cock and Silver whined, frantic, panting into the kiss and biting at Flint’s lips. “No,” Silver whispered over and over, “no no no, please I need, I need…” The emptiness was beyond intolerable now, the blissful feeling of being filled replaced by the slick slide of seed leaking from him. Silver felt like screaming, like sobbing; his prick throbbed and his balls ached unbearably between his legs, everything strung tight, far too close to release for him to calm himself, but without anything to push him over the edge.

“Here,” Flint murmured, and pressed a kiss to his temple, “you’ve earned this now.” He knelt again and pushed three fingers roughly into Silver, the way eased by his own spend seeping around his hand. Silver sobbed in relief, driving himself back onto the penetrating touch. It was less full than the glorious feeling of a cock inside him had been, but Flint hooked his fingers forward and Silver’s world was shattering again, fragmented by the devastating force of that renewed pleasure.

“You’re incredible like this,” Flint said, so softly that Silver barely recognized the words over the roar of blood in his ears and the harsh sound of his own breathing. “So well used. God, the feel of myself inside you— I should keep you like this, wait until I’m ready and then fuck you again.” Silver made an animal noise, somewhere between desire and fear. “Hm.” Flint continued, unrelenting in the quick, dexterous movements of his fingers, “I should make you suck me ’til I’m hard again. I can use you however I want, can’t I?”

Yes, Captain” Silver hissed, quivering with the torment of Flint’s touch and the wonderfully obscene images he was conjuring.

“Why’s that?” Flint asked, and brushed the backs of the knuckles of his free hand over Silver’s balls. Silver writhed under the caress, a bright flash of pleasure joining with the rapturous waves which started inside him and flowed through his entire being.

“Because—yours,” Silver managed to gasp, and finally, finally Flint wrapped a firm hand around his flushed, dripping cock.

That touch was all it took and Silver was bursting, his whole body convulsing violently as great spasms coursed through him. He felt like he was being torn apart as he came in great crashing waves, so much stronger than anything he had experienced, the feeling everywhere in him at once as jet after jet of hot spend spattered onto his stomach and chest; it seemed to go on forever. Tears ran freely down Silver’s cheeks, and he only knew he was screaming because when he buried his face in the crook of Flint’s neck the noise grew muffled. He clung to Flint for dear life—when had he finally released the railing? He’d made no decision to do so—and Flint’s arms were around him, no longer working his body but comforting him as he trembled through the aftershocks. Flint whispered gentle reassurances, pressed soft kisses to his face and hair; Silver caught "perfect" and "beautiful" through the blissful haze that filled his mind.

***

Later they lay in each other's arms, clean and satiated, drifting toward sleep. “I didn’t realize you were so possessive, Captain.” Silver murmured against Flint's chest, where his head was pillowed. He wasn’t sure why he felt a need to test these waters, didn’t know if he was looking for confirmation or denial. Probably Flint’s words had been only the playful, heated talk of a passionate moment.

“It's only fair that you be mine in this,” Flint replied softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Silver’s neck, just below his ear. “I’ve belonged to you since the day you dragged me from the sea.”