In which I write bad smut
Jun. 14th, 2004 02:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsIn which I try and fail to write decent porn. Shanks x Ben with some humor and probably awful and lame sex scenes. 2,954 words, lame and not-final title...read at your own risk.
In many ways, life aboard the Sea Dragon continued as it always had. After all, Shanks was not the sort of man to let the loss of his arm prevent him from enjoying life to its fullest. Sure they had made some accommodations, but most were minor, almost unnoticeable, like the switch from single ropes to rope ladders in order to reach the higher points of the ship. They didn't eat as much food that needed to be cut either, and when they did, a minor game was carried out. Shanks wouldn't get a plate, so he'd be forced to trick one of his crew into giving him theirs, with the food already conveniently portioned. Then that person could just go into the galley and get another plate. It was a system that actually worked well, and Shanks came up with some fairly outrageous ways to con people from their food. Ben, well, Ben had become more domestic. It wasn't that Shanks didn't try to fold his clothes or make the bed; it was just that he did a terrible job and then got frustrated about it. So, Ben had taken to sneaking into the captain's cabin and straightening whatever needed help. Shanks had confronted him about it one day, demanding to know just what the hell he thought he was doing. He knew Shanks would never admit to appreciating his help, not that he wanted him to, so he decided on the craziest excuse he'd ever used. He told the captain that it was the magical ocean fairies who were responsible for cleaning up his room. Shanks had given him the most incredulous look, before he was shouting with laughter. He'd laughed so long he'd given himself the hiccups, and Ben had been teased mercilessly for two weeks. That was about it for ways in which life had changed to meet Shanks' new needs. Well, there were a few other considerations, but those were private and went unknown to the crew.
He could feel the heat rising in his face, bringing a flush to his skin. Just thinking about it made him blush even more, and he stared unseeingly at the wall as he tried to fight down his embarrassment. He wriggled a little in emotional discomfort; it wasn't in his nature to be purposefully sexy or seductive. That was Shanks, who could be sweetly shy, charmingly coy, or frankly sexual depending on his mood. Shanks enjoyed being seductive, got off on his ability to arouse with a single smoldering glance. So, more often than not, it was Shanks who dragged him off to bed, or shot certain looks at him across crowded bars. It was Shanks who, once they were alone, pounced him, wrapping himself around him like a cat, rubbing and purring. Or, if he felt like it, it was Shanks who sat him on the bed before he’d start doing the most interesting things, letting him watch but not touch until he thought he couldn’t take it. And when he was nearly ready to launch himself at the captain, unable to wait any longer, that was when Shanks would tackle him. And suddenly he’d find himself naked, with Shanks writhing on top of him and making enough noise to wake the dead. There was no denying that Shanks liked control. After all, being in command was an important part of his personality. He led an entire pirate crew through his charisma and the daunting force of his will. Thus, the captain was hardly ever under him, even though more often than not it was his ass that was used.
Since the accident, things had calmed down somewhat. It was a little more difficult for Shanks to contort himself with his new balance, just a bit harder to support his full weight on one arm. So there were less acrobatic antics. But recently Shanks had gotten it into his head that they could still have an exciting sex life. But now it was up to Ben to provide it. He wasn’t too sure he liked this new turn of events, but while he wasn’t averse to arguing with his captain, enjoyed it actually, he couldn’t bring himself to deny the man anything. Which was how he currently found himself on display. Exhibitionism wasn’t something he could claim to enjoy. It was embarrassing, and it made him feel vulnerable. But Shanks had done it for him, and it was true they were both voyeurs. So, he went along with Shanks’ suggestions, at least as far as he was able. This explained why he was naked when Shanks still had on his pants. The captain was usually the first to lose his clothes, reveling in his nudity, but he claimed it added to the fun to keep them on. He contorted on the sheets, bringing his knees up to get a better angle. Behind him, Shanks made an appreciative noise, and he could feel his cheeks redden further. His left hand was fisted in the sheets, up underneath his head as he lay on his side, facing away from Shanks. His right was behind him, one finger currently buried inside of himself. He sucked in a breath, fighting to keep from hiding his face completely in the pillows, as he slowly worked the finger in and out. As he listened, he heard the soft thump of cloth settling on the floor as Shanks finally stepped out of his pants.
“Another.” The word was quiet, but the hint of command behind it undeniable. He groaned softly but complied, the already slick digit sliding in to join its fellow. He stretched himself, his face burning as he felt Shanks settle on the bed. Fingers ghosted down his arm, sending shivers across his skin. The touch trailed to his wrist, tracing random lines across the top of his hand. He stilled himself when those fingers reached his own, feeling each free one before searching for the two still buried inside. But Shanks didn’t linger here, urging one thigh to the side to cup his testicles. The contact sent him shuddering again, pulled his attention from his embarrassment to the ache he’d somehow developed in his groin. A light kiss was dropped on his hip as Shanks stretched out behind him. The captain kept his hand in place; thumb stroking light circles into the skin. He kept himself away from Ben otherwise, but the first mate could sense him, could feel him hovering close by.
“Can you manage another one yet?”
“Mmm.” He nodded, not trusting his voice.
“Do it.” Again with the commands. But there was no mistaking the order. Shanks’ voice held that deeper, rougher tone it sometimes got during storms, when his every word was to be obeyed. He arched his back, parted thighs and knees drawn to his chest as the third finger slipped inside. Wrist flexing, he plied his fingers, rocking his body back onto his hand with small movements. Shanks’ hand began to squeeze gently, massaging him and reminding him of his arousal. They stayed like that for long minutes, Ben readying himself and Shanks enjoying the view.
As the time crept past, his shoulders began to tighten with anticipation. Surely any second now Shanks would grab his ponytail and haul him to his knees. It was fast and violent, the way the captain typically took him, but the ride was intense and burned off any traces of his earlier discomfort. Normally Shanks would have had him by now, and Ben was beginning to feel the ache of his need rather strongly. He had just begun easing his left arm out from beneath his head when the touch left his balls. It reappeared on his hand, teasing each finger from his body and replacing it with one of Shanks’ own. When all of his fingers were free, and Shanks’ were buried inside, the captain began thrusting into him, working on opening him further and searching for his prostate. He found it, snuggling up against Ben’s body when the man gave a low moan, pushing back onto his fingers. Ben could feel Shanks’ arousal burning against the bottom of his ass; was very much aware of it as it pulsed and throbbed against his skin. Again his muscles grew tense in anticipation, surely Shanks was ready now.
But the captain only continued to toy with him, touching him with only two fingers now. Shanks nuzzled in between his shoulder blades, tongue darting out to leave warm, wet lines that quickly cooled on his skin. He had moved his right hand around to the front, and he couldn’t resist any longer. He grasped his erection, the slickness still on his fingers making it easy for his cock to slide in his hand. He managed only three quick strokes before Shanks’ voice sounded in his ear.
“Stop. Only if I give you permission.” The words were breathed out, whispered puffs of air that tickled the shell of his ear, barely stirring in his hair. But Shanks was in charge, and he stopped, drawing his hand up to rest near his head and away from temptation. His body ached at the withdrawal, a small pleading sound forming in his throat. Shanks heard it, that near-silent whimper of need, and he decided to take pity on his first mate. With a quick nip to a tempting ear lobe, Shanks eased his fingers from Ben’s body and drew away.
“On your back, please.” Ben obeyed; rolling over and stretching his legs back down the bed. He closed his eyes, feeling the blood rushing back into his face at this new position. His cock throbbed, and he shoved his right hand up under his head, pinning it down in order to control himself. Shanks climbed over a lean, muscular thigh, settling on his knees between the parted limbs. Ben was laid out around him, hard and blushing, and the captain grinned. It was amusing the way Ben could be so easily embarrassed, even after all the years they’d shared. But, it was also a turn-on, and it had the desired effect on his first mate. Shanks stretched forward, pinching one hardened nipple as his mouth finally sought Ben’s.
Salt-chapped lips met, Shanks brushing his teasingly over Ben’s, before he abruptly nipped down, biting hard enough that blood welled to the surface. His tongue lashed out, lapping at the fluid before it pushed insistently against the other’s closed lips. Ben opened his mouth, Shanks darting in and sucking on his tongue, dominating the other man. And then he was pulling away, before Ben had a chance to untangle his hands and hold the captain to him. He leaned back, resting comfortably on his knees. His hand grasped Ben’s left hip, hauling it both upwards into the air and also down the bed towards him. Ben caught on quickly, planting his feet on the bed and shifting his hips up onto Shanks’ lap. His eyes still squeezed shut, Ben missed the sudden wild gleam in Shanks’ eyes. The captain growled low in his throat and spat into his palm. He spread the moisture over his cock, slicking it in long, swift strokes, before grasping the base. He positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging against Ben’s opening. In one swift thrust, he entered him, hand moving from his cock to pull on Ben’s hip. A word slipped out of his throat as he claimed his first mate, harsh and thick, “Mine.”
The dual sensations of being entered and of the word thundering in his ears had his spine melting into sheets. He submitted completely, his body fully relaxing as the last traces of his embarrassment were burned away, replaced by the delicious sensations Shanks was producing. Shanks’ pace was quick, his desire to go slow overtaken by the tight heat surrounding his cock. But he kept his thrusts even and smooth, for once wanting to resist the need for violence and to have Ben begging him for more, not so fucked he barely had enough air to breathe. The captain tore his eyes away from the sight of his cock sliding in and out of his first mate, his gaze traveling up Ben’s body, pausing to admire the bobbing of his cock against his stomach, to his face. Ben’s eyes were closed still, his brow drawn in a small frown of concentration. His lower lip was sucked between his teeth, faint traces of blood still visible as a darker shade of red.
“Give me your hand,” Shanks commanded, lifting his own from its firm grip on Ben’s hip. Ben freed his right hand from underneath his head, reaching blindly forward. Shanks grasped it, bringing to rest on Ben’s erection. He molded Ben’s hand around it with his own, covering it and starting to guide it in stroking movements. When the rhythm was to his liking, Shanks pulled his hand away, replacing it again on Ben’s hip.
“Look at me.” Dark eyelashes fluttered and Ben reluctantly opened his eyes. He was caught instantly by Shanks’ gaze, the captain’s hazel eyes intense and bright with lust.
“Don’t stop,” the captain ordered, holding Ben’s eyes. The first mate gave a tiny nod, letting his stroking speed up to match the pace of Shanks’ thrusts. His hand tightened, almost enough to bruise, and he sped up, burying himself again and again in Ben. His aim was good, brushing against Ben’s prostate on every thrust. It was almost overwhelming, the pleasure inside and out, combined with the utterly possessive look in Shanks’ eyes. He moaned, the noise deep and low as it slipped from his throat without resistance. The sound was like liquor for his ears, intoxicating,slightly bitter, and entirely addictive. He smiled wolfishly, a dangerous, fearsome grin, and asked for more.
“Again. I want to hear my name. I want you to beg for me.” Like a key turning in a lock, Shanks’ request opened up the doors of Ben’s reluctance. Sighs and moans poured from his lips, quiet as always, but filled with need, with pleading and lust. And he begged, unashamed and wanting.
“Aah, Shanks! So go~od. Need more. Please! Ah, I need you, want you. Gods, I need you.”
An aphrodisiac, a spur to his own desire, and Shanks bent forward over Ben, hips pistoning into the willing body. His hand gripped a shoulder, his weight supported on his elbow. His tongue darted out, swiping at the salty sweat that had formed in the hollow of Ben’s throat. Its taste filled his mouth, the scent of Ben’s body, sounds of his desire, the heavenly feeling of his ass, it was too much, and Shanks knew he had little control left.
“Come for me,” he managed to bark out before his teeth clamped down over the muscular junction of neck and shoulder, pressure more than enough to bruise. The words reached his ears with a jolt, and he shuddered, bucking up into his hand as he came, spattering hotness across two stomachs. The reflexive spasming of Ben’s muscles clamped down on him, holding him in place until the first mate’s orgasm had passed and he went limp. The instant he could move, Shanks pounded forward. Once, twice, thrice, and then his spine was stiff, locked in place as he emptied himself deep inside. After his climax washed through him, he collapsed, elbow giving way to send him to rest on top of Ben. He lipped the slight swelling he’d caused, before angling up to kiss lazily at the side of Ben’s mouth that was in reach.
“Mmmm, that was fun. You’re so cute when you blush like that.”
“Shut up…it’s only because you’re staring at me like I’m some kind of expensive wine or something. It makes me nervous.”
“Ah, wine. That sounds good right about now.” Shanks flopped about, squirming on Ben’s chest before sliding off to rest on the bed.
“Bah, too tired. I don’ wanna get up.” He turned a puppy-eyed gaze to Ben who just smirked at him.
“I’m not getting up. I’m a mess, I’m feeling very well used, and I’m comfortable. In fact, I think I’ll take a nap.” He twisted on the bed, curling up on his side, once again turning his back to towards the captain.
“Be~en,” Shanks whined, poking him between two ribs. “Don’t go to sleep. I want booze, and who’s gonna clean up in here?”
“The ocean fairies.”
“….right. You’re not gettin up, are you?”
“No. I’m tired, and your bed is soft. For once I’m not going to let you boss me around. I did what you wanted already. Now it’s your turn to listen. I want you to pull the blankets down and get your ass over here. I deserve some cuddling, dammit, and you’re going to provide it.”
Shanks grinned at the somewhat petulantly uttered orders. Perhaps he did owe Ben a small reward. He turned down the covers, swatting Ben on the butt to get him to move.
“All right, the bed’s ready for your lazy ass.”
“Thank you.” Ben replied with as much dignity as he could muster, slipping between the sheets. He wrapped an arm around Shanks’ neck, hauling the captain down next to him. Shanks settled his head in the curve of Ben’s shoulder, arm and one leg thrown over his body as the first mate curled an arm around his waist. It was warm and cozy beneath the covers, and Ben was almost asleep when Shanks whispered in his ear.
“Will magical ocean fairies really clean up for me?”
“…Well, at least one, but not before he gets a nap.”
He finally did drift off, with Shanks’ laughter sounding quietly in his ears.
In many ways, life aboard the Sea Dragon continued as it always had. After all, Shanks was not the sort of man to let the loss of his arm prevent him from enjoying life to its fullest. Sure they had made some accommodations, but most were minor, almost unnoticeable, like the switch from single ropes to rope ladders in order to reach the higher points of the ship. They didn't eat as much food that needed to be cut either, and when they did, a minor game was carried out. Shanks wouldn't get a plate, so he'd be forced to trick one of his crew into giving him theirs, with the food already conveniently portioned. Then that person could just go into the galley and get another plate. It was a system that actually worked well, and Shanks came up with some fairly outrageous ways to con people from their food. Ben, well, Ben had become more domestic. It wasn't that Shanks didn't try to fold his clothes or make the bed; it was just that he did a terrible job and then got frustrated about it. So, Ben had taken to sneaking into the captain's cabin and straightening whatever needed help. Shanks had confronted him about it one day, demanding to know just what the hell he thought he was doing. He knew Shanks would never admit to appreciating his help, not that he wanted him to, so he decided on the craziest excuse he'd ever used. He told the captain that it was the magical ocean fairies who were responsible for cleaning up his room. Shanks had given him the most incredulous look, before he was shouting with laughter. He'd laughed so long he'd given himself the hiccups, and Ben had been teased mercilessly for two weeks. That was about it for ways in which life had changed to meet Shanks' new needs. Well, there were a few other considerations, but those were private and went unknown to the crew.
He could feel the heat rising in his face, bringing a flush to his skin. Just thinking about it made him blush even more, and he stared unseeingly at the wall as he tried to fight down his embarrassment. He wriggled a little in emotional discomfort; it wasn't in his nature to be purposefully sexy or seductive. That was Shanks, who could be sweetly shy, charmingly coy, or frankly sexual depending on his mood. Shanks enjoyed being seductive, got off on his ability to arouse with a single smoldering glance. So, more often than not, it was Shanks who dragged him off to bed, or shot certain looks at him across crowded bars. It was Shanks who, once they were alone, pounced him, wrapping himself around him like a cat, rubbing and purring. Or, if he felt like it, it was Shanks who sat him on the bed before he’d start doing the most interesting things, letting him watch but not touch until he thought he couldn’t take it. And when he was nearly ready to launch himself at the captain, unable to wait any longer, that was when Shanks would tackle him. And suddenly he’d find himself naked, with Shanks writhing on top of him and making enough noise to wake the dead. There was no denying that Shanks liked control. After all, being in command was an important part of his personality. He led an entire pirate crew through his charisma and the daunting force of his will. Thus, the captain was hardly ever under him, even though more often than not it was his ass that was used.
Since the accident, things had calmed down somewhat. It was a little more difficult for Shanks to contort himself with his new balance, just a bit harder to support his full weight on one arm. So there were less acrobatic antics. But recently Shanks had gotten it into his head that they could still have an exciting sex life. But now it was up to Ben to provide it. He wasn’t too sure he liked this new turn of events, but while he wasn’t averse to arguing with his captain, enjoyed it actually, he couldn’t bring himself to deny the man anything. Which was how he currently found himself on display. Exhibitionism wasn’t something he could claim to enjoy. It was embarrassing, and it made him feel vulnerable. But Shanks had done it for him, and it was true they were both voyeurs. So, he went along with Shanks’ suggestions, at least as far as he was able. This explained why he was naked when Shanks still had on his pants. The captain was usually the first to lose his clothes, reveling in his nudity, but he claimed it added to the fun to keep them on. He contorted on the sheets, bringing his knees up to get a better angle. Behind him, Shanks made an appreciative noise, and he could feel his cheeks redden further. His left hand was fisted in the sheets, up underneath his head as he lay on his side, facing away from Shanks. His right was behind him, one finger currently buried inside of himself. He sucked in a breath, fighting to keep from hiding his face completely in the pillows, as he slowly worked the finger in and out. As he listened, he heard the soft thump of cloth settling on the floor as Shanks finally stepped out of his pants.
“Another.” The word was quiet, but the hint of command behind it undeniable. He groaned softly but complied, the already slick digit sliding in to join its fellow. He stretched himself, his face burning as he felt Shanks settle on the bed. Fingers ghosted down his arm, sending shivers across his skin. The touch trailed to his wrist, tracing random lines across the top of his hand. He stilled himself when those fingers reached his own, feeling each free one before searching for the two still buried inside. But Shanks didn’t linger here, urging one thigh to the side to cup his testicles. The contact sent him shuddering again, pulled his attention from his embarrassment to the ache he’d somehow developed in his groin. A light kiss was dropped on his hip as Shanks stretched out behind him. The captain kept his hand in place; thumb stroking light circles into the skin. He kept himself away from Ben otherwise, but the first mate could sense him, could feel him hovering close by.
“Can you manage another one yet?”
“Mmm.” He nodded, not trusting his voice.
“Do it.” Again with the commands. But there was no mistaking the order. Shanks’ voice held that deeper, rougher tone it sometimes got during storms, when his every word was to be obeyed. He arched his back, parted thighs and knees drawn to his chest as the third finger slipped inside. Wrist flexing, he plied his fingers, rocking his body back onto his hand with small movements. Shanks’ hand began to squeeze gently, massaging him and reminding him of his arousal. They stayed like that for long minutes, Ben readying himself and Shanks enjoying the view.
As the time crept past, his shoulders began to tighten with anticipation. Surely any second now Shanks would grab his ponytail and haul him to his knees. It was fast and violent, the way the captain typically took him, but the ride was intense and burned off any traces of his earlier discomfort. Normally Shanks would have had him by now, and Ben was beginning to feel the ache of his need rather strongly. He had just begun easing his left arm out from beneath his head when the touch left his balls. It reappeared on his hand, teasing each finger from his body and replacing it with one of Shanks’ own. When all of his fingers were free, and Shanks’ were buried inside, the captain began thrusting into him, working on opening him further and searching for his prostate. He found it, snuggling up against Ben’s body when the man gave a low moan, pushing back onto his fingers. Ben could feel Shanks’ arousal burning against the bottom of his ass; was very much aware of it as it pulsed and throbbed against his skin. Again his muscles grew tense in anticipation, surely Shanks was ready now.
But the captain only continued to toy with him, touching him with only two fingers now. Shanks nuzzled in between his shoulder blades, tongue darting out to leave warm, wet lines that quickly cooled on his skin. He had moved his right hand around to the front, and he couldn’t resist any longer. He grasped his erection, the slickness still on his fingers making it easy for his cock to slide in his hand. He managed only three quick strokes before Shanks’ voice sounded in his ear.
“Stop. Only if I give you permission.” The words were breathed out, whispered puffs of air that tickled the shell of his ear, barely stirring in his hair. But Shanks was in charge, and he stopped, drawing his hand up to rest near his head and away from temptation. His body ached at the withdrawal, a small pleading sound forming in his throat. Shanks heard it, that near-silent whimper of need, and he decided to take pity on his first mate. With a quick nip to a tempting ear lobe, Shanks eased his fingers from Ben’s body and drew away.
“On your back, please.” Ben obeyed; rolling over and stretching his legs back down the bed. He closed his eyes, feeling the blood rushing back into his face at this new position. His cock throbbed, and he shoved his right hand up under his head, pinning it down in order to control himself. Shanks climbed over a lean, muscular thigh, settling on his knees between the parted limbs. Ben was laid out around him, hard and blushing, and the captain grinned. It was amusing the way Ben could be so easily embarrassed, even after all the years they’d shared. But, it was also a turn-on, and it had the desired effect on his first mate. Shanks stretched forward, pinching one hardened nipple as his mouth finally sought Ben’s.
Salt-chapped lips met, Shanks brushing his teasingly over Ben’s, before he abruptly nipped down, biting hard enough that blood welled to the surface. His tongue lashed out, lapping at the fluid before it pushed insistently against the other’s closed lips. Ben opened his mouth, Shanks darting in and sucking on his tongue, dominating the other man. And then he was pulling away, before Ben had a chance to untangle his hands and hold the captain to him. He leaned back, resting comfortably on his knees. His hand grasped Ben’s left hip, hauling it both upwards into the air and also down the bed towards him. Ben caught on quickly, planting his feet on the bed and shifting his hips up onto Shanks’ lap. His eyes still squeezed shut, Ben missed the sudden wild gleam in Shanks’ eyes. The captain growled low in his throat and spat into his palm. He spread the moisture over his cock, slicking it in long, swift strokes, before grasping the base. He positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging against Ben’s opening. In one swift thrust, he entered him, hand moving from his cock to pull on Ben’s hip. A word slipped out of his throat as he claimed his first mate, harsh and thick, “Mine.”
The dual sensations of being entered and of the word thundering in his ears had his spine melting into sheets. He submitted completely, his body fully relaxing as the last traces of his embarrassment were burned away, replaced by the delicious sensations Shanks was producing. Shanks’ pace was quick, his desire to go slow overtaken by the tight heat surrounding his cock. But he kept his thrusts even and smooth, for once wanting to resist the need for violence and to have Ben begging him for more, not so fucked he barely had enough air to breathe. The captain tore his eyes away from the sight of his cock sliding in and out of his first mate, his gaze traveling up Ben’s body, pausing to admire the bobbing of his cock against his stomach, to his face. Ben’s eyes were closed still, his brow drawn in a small frown of concentration. His lower lip was sucked between his teeth, faint traces of blood still visible as a darker shade of red.
“Give me your hand,” Shanks commanded, lifting his own from its firm grip on Ben’s hip. Ben freed his right hand from underneath his head, reaching blindly forward. Shanks grasped it, bringing to rest on Ben’s erection. He molded Ben’s hand around it with his own, covering it and starting to guide it in stroking movements. When the rhythm was to his liking, Shanks pulled his hand away, replacing it again on Ben’s hip.
“Look at me.” Dark eyelashes fluttered and Ben reluctantly opened his eyes. He was caught instantly by Shanks’ gaze, the captain’s hazel eyes intense and bright with lust.
“Don’t stop,” the captain ordered, holding Ben’s eyes. The first mate gave a tiny nod, letting his stroking speed up to match the pace of Shanks’ thrusts. His hand tightened, almost enough to bruise, and he sped up, burying himself again and again in Ben. His aim was good, brushing against Ben’s prostate on every thrust. It was almost overwhelming, the pleasure inside and out, combined with the utterly possessive look in Shanks’ eyes. He moaned, the noise deep and low as it slipped from his throat without resistance. The sound was like liquor for his ears, intoxicating,slightly bitter, and entirely addictive. He smiled wolfishly, a dangerous, fearsome grin, and asked for more.
“Again. I want to hear my name. I want you to beg for me.” Like a key turning in a lock, Shanks’ request opened up the doors of Ben’s reluctance. Sighs and moans poured from his lips, quiet as always, but filled with need, with pleading and lust. And he begged, unashamed and wanting.
“Aah, Shanks! So go~od. Need more. Please! Ah, I need you, want you. Gods, I need you.”
An aphrodisiac, a spur to his own desire, and Shanks bent forward over Ben, hips pistoning into the willing body. His hand gripped a shoulder, his weight supported on his elbow. His tongue darted out, swiping at the salty sweat that had formed in the hollow of Ben’s throat. Its taste filled his mouth, the scent of Ben’s body, sounds of his desire, the heavenly feeling of his ass, it was too much, and Shanks knew he had little control left.
“Come for me,” he managed to bark out before his teeth clamped down over the muscular junction of neck and shoulder, pressure more than enough to bruise. The words reached his ears with a jolt, and he shuddered, bucking up into his hand as he came, spattering hotness across two stomachs. The reflexive spasming of Ben’s muscles clamped down on him, holding him in place until the first mate’s orgasm had passed and he went limp. The instant he could move, Shanks pounded forward. Once, twice, thrice, and then his spine was stiff, locked in place as he emptied himself deep inside. After his climax washed through him, he collapsed, elbow giving way to send him to rest on top of Ben. He lipped the slight swelling he’d caused, before angling up to kiss lazily at the side of Ben’s mouth that was in reach.
“Mmmm, that was fun. You’re so cute when you blush like that.”
“Shut up…it’s only because you’re staring at me like I’m some kind of expensive wine or something. It makes me nervous.”
“Ah, wine. That sounds good right about now.” Shanks flopped about, squirming on Ben’s chest before sliding off to rest on the bed.
“Bah, too tired. I don’ wanna get up.” He turned a puppy-eyed gaze to Ben who just smirked at him.
“I’m not getting up. I’m a mess, I’m feeling very well used, and I’m comfortable. In fact, I think I’ll take a nap.” He twisted on the bed, curling up on his side, once again turning his back to towards the captain.
“Be~en,” Shanks whined, poking him between two ribs. “Don’t go to sleep. I want booze, and who’s gonna clean up in here?”
“The ocean fairies.”
“….right. You’re not gettin up, are you?”
“No. I’m tired, and your bed is soft. For once I’m not going to let you boss me around. I did what you wanted already. Now it’s your turn to listen. I want you to pull the blankets down and get your ass over here. I deserve some cuddling, dammit, and you’re going to provide it.”
Shanks grinned at the somewhat petulantly uttered orders. Perhaps he did owe Ben a small reward. He turned down the covers, swatting Ben on the butt to get him to move.
“All right, the bed’s ready for your lazy ass.”
“Thank you.” Ben replied with as much dignity as he could muster, slipping between the sheets. He wrapped an arm around Shanks’ neck, hauling the captain down next to him. Shanks settled his head in the curve of Ben’s shoulder, arm and one leg thrown over his body as the first mate curled an arm around his waist. It was warm and cozy beneath the covers, and Ben was almost asleep when Shanks whispered in his ear.
“Will magical ocean fairies really clean up for me?”
“…Well, at least one, but not before he gets a nap.”
He finally did drift off, with Shanks’ laughter sounding quietly in his ears.
