FIC: ST RPS -- The Pirate King and the Cabin Boy

[the_deep_magic]

Title: The Pirate King and the Cabin Boy
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,932
Warnings/Promises: dialogue-heavy, fantasy narration, guyliner, virginity kink, maybe a little meta
Disclaimer: lies that tell more lies
Summary: Zach has a nightmare, so Chris tells him a story.
A/N: This is what happens when I kind of want to write a pirate AU but don’t have the patience to research or, y’know, actually write it.  What I’ve been sporadically working on when I wanted to write something light and smutty.  Cotton candy for the brain.  And other bits.

At first Chris thinks it’s Noah when he wakes up to the sound of whimpering.  But the dog is nowhere to be seen and the sound seems to be coming from… Zach?  His whole body is tense and pathetic sounds keep slipping out between his gritted teeth.

Chris sets a hand on him, but he doesn’t wake up.  “Zach?  Zach.”  Chris shakes him a little, but it still takes a few agonizing moments before Zach’s eyes open and he mutters a confused noise.

“Sorry, man, it’s just you were making this awful sound and I thought you might be having a bad dream.”

Zach blinks up at him, his eyes obviously still trying to focus.  Chris can see the moment the realization hits.  “Bad dream, yeah,” he gasps.

“Must’ve been pretty bad.  You’re shaking and sweating like crazy.”

Zach nods, and Chris peels the comforter back, leaving just the sheet over them.  “Do you remember it?”

Zach shakes his head.  “Not really.  I was just scared.  Terrified.  I think… I think I couldn’t find you, or something happened to you, or… I don’t know, something.”

“Well, shit,” Chris sighs, laying back down and reaching out to pull Zach into his arms.  Zach is clammy with sweat, but it’s worth it to feel how the tension in his body finally starts to loosen when Chris has him close.

“Sorry I woke you.”

Maybe Chris had been a little annoyed at the beginning, but Zach is obviously shaken.  “S’okay, just go back to sleep.”

Zach burrows his nose into Chris’ neck.  “Don’ wanna.  I’ll just go back to the dream.”

Chris holds back a sigh.  Well, he’s up now, anyway.  “You just need to get thinking about something better to dream about.”

“Like what?”

“Like… hmm… How about I’m a swarthy pirate king and you’re a spoiled member of the gentry who gets pressganged into service on my ship?”

Zach laughs.  “Well, that came to mind pretty fast.”

“It… may be a little something I’ve been considering.  In my head.  For a while now.”

Zach lifts his head.  “Wait a minute, why do you get to be the pirate king?  I’ve got you beaten on swarthiness.”

Chris sighs playfully, mind starting to brim with abundantly-imagined details.  “Please.  You’ve got the dark hair but otherwise you’re like the palest person ever.”

“Oh, because you’re so much better, Mr. SPF 500?”

“Okay, first off, malignant melanomas are in no way swarthy, and second, forget the swarthy – pirating is rough work.  Swabbing decks and hoisting mainsails and subsisting on hard tack and rancid meat.”

Zach snorts.  “I didn’t hear anything about LAMILL coffee in there.  You wouldn’t last a week.”

“Oh my god, just go with it.  It’s gonna be hot, I promise.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Chris says, appreciating the small victory.  And resting a hand firmly on Zach’s butt, because he can.  “So maybe one day my pirate gang and I are raiding an opulent galleon after slaughtering everyone on board.  We’ve got a fearsome reputation to uphold.”

“Mm-hmm,” Zach says, though Chris can feel him smile.

“And deep within the ship’s quarters, hiding himself in a closet—”

“I hate you.”

“—what do I find, but… you.  You beg me not to kill you.  ‘Take anything you want,’ you say.  ‘All my gold.  It means nothing to me, just spare my life.’”

“And now you kill me, I suppose?”

Chris laughs.  “No way.  Underneath all that lavish finery I see a fine pair of arms and a strong chest and a… a really smokin’ hot ass.”

“Interesting vernacular this pirate king has.”

“Hush.  Anyway, I totally want to rip off your clothes and have my way with you right there across the… gunwale?  I don’t know, some nautical thing.  But I don’t, because I’m fearsome, but not the rape-y kind of fearsome.”

“Murderous but not rape-y, got it.”

“Yup.  So I spare your life, but I take you with me.”

“Probably for the best.  I imagine your crew took all the grog off my old ship.  Plus, the dead bodies and all.”

“Oh, Zach, always thinking practicalities.  So you act all resistant and stuff, but really you’re yearning for the freedom of the pirate life.”

“My lavish lifestyle was really that bad?”

“Oh, definitely.  No choice at all.  You had to go into the family trade of… banking?  Yes.  And you always hated banking.  Plus, they were going to force you to marry the daughter of a business partner and sire a bunch of heirs for the sake of the family name and all that.”

“Ew.”

“Exactly.  So you kick and scream a little as I drag you back to my boat, but secretly you’re craving rollicking adventure out on the open seas.”

“And do I get it?”

“Oh, yes.  But first you have to be my cabin boy.”

Zach gapes at him.  “What?  No fucking way am I being your cabin boy!”

“Up to you.  It’s either wait on me and sleep on a soft pallet in my quarters, or live below decks with the rest of the men.  And I have to warn you, it’s been quite a long time since they’ve even seen a woman.  Like, this is the point where manatees are starting to look like mermaids, and you’ve got to admit you’ve really got the prettiest mouth, and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.  Cabin boy.  Pallet.  Waiting on your every whim.”

Chris grins.  “Well, not my every whim.  Not just yet.  I have to win your heart first.”

“That’s very considerate of you.”

“If it’s any consolation, you’re very indignant at first.  After all, you’ve never even had to dress yourself a day in your life – always had a valet or a footman or somebody to do it for you.  And now you have to dress me.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Yep.  And I’m stern with you when you don’t move fast enough or when you drop something, but secretly I just love to watch you flush with barely suppressed rage as you chafe against your metaphorical shackles.”

“Very poetic.”

“Thank you.  But it’s not just dressing me and stuff, it’s manual labor, too.  Which you’ve never done a day in your life either.”

“Uh-huh.  Yet I’ve got fine arms and a strong chest?”

Chris huffs impatiently.  “Maybe it’s just good genetics.  Or Elizabethan-era yoga.  Or some damn thing, I don’t know.  Anyway, I watch greedily as your muscles grow and harden more each day, your pale skin turning golden under the fiery sun.”

“Uh, have we met?” Zach asks with a disbelieving snort.  “The only color my pale skin is going to turn under the fiery sun is lobster-ass red.  And then it’s all going to peel off.  If you’re going for sexy, that is not it.  And didn’t we already cover malignant melanomas?”

“That’s where you’re refusing to suspend your disbelief?  Skin care?  Just fucking go with it, you big whiner, or we’ll all die of scurvy before we get to the sex part.”  Zach looks sufficiently chastened, so Chris continues.  “Where was I?  Oh, okay, we’re getting to the part where you stumble across my secret stash of pilfered books, and you realize I’m no ordinary pirate.”

“Well, that wasn’t my first clue.”

“Quiet.  Anyway, you start taking them.  Just one book at a time to read by candlelight during the few moments at the end of the day when I’m not keeping you busy.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought this through.”

“I have a very vivid imagination.  Stop interrupting.”

“Sorry, o Pirate King.”

“Thank you.  Anyway, one night I notice that my favorite book is gone.  So I go to your cabin and there you are, hunched over beside the stub of a candle, reading the pilfered book.”

“I thought I slept in a pallet in your quarters.”

“My quarters have more than one room.  It’s like a mini-cabin… thing.  Do you want me to get to the good part, or not?”

“Good part.”

“Okay then.  I confront you, give you the whole fearsome pirate king business, and it totally freaks you out and your lip does that little wobbly thing it does sometimes.”

“Does not.”

“Does so.  And you should know I pay very close attention to your lips.  But, wait, no.  It’s hotter if you stand up to me.  Yeah.”  Chris’ cock starts to stir where it’s pressed against Zach’s stomach, and he knows Zach can feel it.  “You’re all, ‘I may live without the trappings of wealth, sir, but I cannot live without the written word.’”

“How period-appropriate is this dialogue?” Zach asks, but he also wriggles a little against Chris, which, yeah, that’s good, so Chris ignores Zach’s interruption and keeps going.

“So I smile, all seductive-like, and say, ‘Well, if it’s words you fancy, then I can supply you with all you need.’  Which you don’t know how to take, because it’s, like, am I talking about books or am I talking about dirty talk?”

“I do like both,” Zach says, squirming again, and this time it’s definitely a rocking motion against Chris’ thigh.  And this time there’s definitely something growing a little harder with the motion.  “So which is it?”

“It’s the dirty talk.”

“Hmm, figured,” Zach says smugly.

Chris rubs his thigh sharply between Zach’s legs, smiling sweetly at Zach’s answering gasp.  “Well, would you like me to narrate the story of how you read a book for an hour and a half, or would you like to hear about us having pirate sex?”

“Well, if you’d just get to the pirate sex…”

“Oh my god.  Cool your oars, cabin boy, I’m getting there.  So I take the book from you and carefully place it aside.  But you’re a brave little thing – your eyes don’t leave mine, and you don’t move away when I take a step toward you.”

“Well, you do look pretty tasty in all that pirate regalia.  I’d imagine you rim your eyes with kohl to look even more fearsome.”

“Indeed I do,” says Chris, and they’re both starting to move against each other with a little more purpose now.  “I reach a hand up to touch your face, trace my thumb over your cheekbone, watch your lips tremble just a little in the bare candlelight.  And that’s when I realize… you’ve never known the touch of a man.”

Zach stills his hips and frowns.  “Wait, how old am I in this?”

“Hey, this is my fantasy,” Chris says, poking Zach in the chest to make his point.  “And in my fantasy, you’ve never known the touch of a man.  You had a very sheltered upbringing.”

“Apparently.”

“But you’re very brave.  You don’t flinch or move away when I get closer, and then I say, ‘But I’d rather show you much more than words.’”

Zach pulls a bit of a face and Chris decides to take a different tack – instead of smacking or poking, he kisses Zach hard and brief on the lips.  “Hey now,” he says, “this whole thing is a little Harlequin.  Allow me a little overblown dialogue every now and then.”

By now, Zach has reached down to cup Chris’ ass, pulling Chris close and rubbing himself shamelessly on Chris’ thigh.  “Overblow all you like, babe.  Just – oh – just keep going.”

“I will, thank you.  So you don’t pull away, not even when I plant my lips on yours for a hard, searching kiss.”

“Mmm.  What are you searching for?”

“Your reaction.  You freeze up at first, unsure of what to make of such a brazen advance.”

“I’m sure I get over that pretty quickly.”

“You do.  You gasp and part your lips to let me in.”  Here, Chris can’t help but give a little practical demonstration, and Zach plays along, allowing Chris that deep, sweeping kiss.  But Zach is Zach, even when he’s being told a filthy bedtime story and humping himself on Chris’ leg, so he kisses back a little, twisting his tongue against Chris’ in a shy, delicate way, as the cabin boy might.  Chris is impressed.

It’s almost unbearable to pull away from Zach’s delectable mouth, but the story demands to be told yet, so Chris does it.  He leans right in Zach’s ear and says in his dirtiest whisper, “You are quite skilled for one so naive and inexperienced.  Quite skilled.”

“That’s, unh, what the pirate king says, huh?”

“You got it.”  Chris’ own cock is swelling in his boxers and getting a little residual stimulation from Zach’s thrusts, and soon it’s going to be too much for him to concentrate.  But for now, he soldiers on.  “By now you’re trembling – but not with fear this time.  With desire.”

“I want you.”

“See, now you’re getting it.  I run my fingers down your jaw to the open front of your shirt.”

“Bet they’re pretty rough, your fingers.  Pirating life, and all that.”

“Oh yeah.  They totally make you shiver and harden in your breeches, imagining what my callused hands will feel like jerking your cock.”

Zach stops thrusting just long enough to grind himself good and hard against Chris’ hip.  “Mmm, please.”

Chris chuckles – he needs some distance, too, if he’s going to get through the rest of the story, so he rolls Zach on his back and climbs over him, shoving Zach’s shorts roughly down his legs just enough to get a hand around his thick cock.  Zach groans and presses his head back into the pillow.  “Keep going…  You were about to jerk me.”

“Oh no, not yet,” Chris says, grinning.  “I have so much more to play with first.  I pull your coarse linen shirt over your head so I can feel the skin beneath, still soft from a pampered life, plus your cushy little cabin boy gig.  You stand there and let me run my hands all over you, but you’re clenching your fists at your sides because you ache to touch me, too.”

“Gotta – fuck, yeah, like that – gotta find out what’s under all that pirate regalia.”

“Oh, you will soon enough.  Because suddenly I take my hands away and say, ‘Undress me, boy.’”

“But I’m legal in this, right?  I’m overage.”

Chris sighs, giving Zach’s cock a vicious little squeeze in punishment.  “I already said yes.  But the job is cabin boy – it’s just a thing.  So, with shaking hands, you begin to undress me, as you do every night.”

“W-wait, I’ve seen you naked?”

“Well, what do you think cabin boys are for?  Yeah, you dress me every morning and undress me every night, and you burn to touch my naked flesh,” Chris sighs.  Hasn’t he gone over this part already?  “Late at night you groan into your pallet as you stroke your dick mercilessly, imagining it’s my hand on you.”

“Sounds like something I’d do,” Zach concedes, thrusting up a little into Chris’ grip, and Chris allows it – he can’t be the one doing all the work here.

“But this time, you take your time, smoothing your hands first over my underclothes, then over my skin as you undress me.”  As he speaks, Chris lets his other hand glide up to pinch at Zach’s nipples, and that earns him a nice little grunt of pleasure.  “Usually, you take my clothes and fold them neatly away, but now I take each garment from you and fling it to the ground.”

“Sounds like something you’d do.”

“Hush.  It’s deliberate.  It’s sexy.  You look me up and down, as you have never allowed yourself to do before, and I can no longer keep myself from you.  I wrap my hand around the back of your neck and pull you toward me for a kiss, this time with our bare skin pressed together.” 

Here, Chris does as he says, slowing down his strokes to match the sweep of his tongue in Zach’s mouth.  Zach groans and clutches at whatever he can reach on Chris, but doesn’t try to reverse their positions or quicken the pace.  Good boy, thinks Chris.

“I guide us toward my bed,” Chris says, his voice little more than a gasp against Zach’s mouth, “and push you down on to it.  You only have a moment to savor the softness of the feather down – which you haven’t felt in months – before I flip you over on your stomach.”

“You top?” Zach asks, smirking.

“Fuck yeah.  When you’re the pirate king, you can top.”

“Fair enough.  Just don’t stop jacking me.”

“Oh, right.”  It’s hard work, kissing Zach and jacking him off and weaving a plausible erotic tale, but Chris licks his palm wetly and gets back to business.  “So there I have you, naked in my bed, and you’re shaking.  You sort of know what to expect – you’ve heard the men talking – but you expect pain, not the gentleness of my lips as they kiss down your spine, or my hands as they part you… your… Okay, I can’t think of a sexy way to say ‘ass cheeks.’”

Zach laughs and wriggles in Chris’ grip.  “Keep going.”

“Right.  I pull a vial of oil from… well, it doesn’t matter, but I’ve got a small vial of oil, and you turn your head back to watch as I pour some on my hands.  ‘To ease the way,’ I say, but as I stroke my prick, your eyes grow wide as you assess my girth.”

“How – nnngh – humble of you.”

“I press a finger against your opening, which is shut as tightly as a new rosebud.  I stroke over it a few times.  ‘I would have you willingly,’ I say gently.  ‘The pain will be brief and the pleasure worth it many times over.’”  You nod, but I wait for your word.  I want to hear it.”

“Yes.”

“You try to relax as I work my finger into your—”

“Chris,” Zach gasps, hips jerking, “this is so awesome, but you need to skip to the good part.  Like, now.”

“So impatient,” Chris says, and cruelly leans down to lick at the head of Zach’s cock while tugging just a little too hard on Zach’s balls to give himself a little more time for his story.  He hears what might be an auuugh, fuck you from up the bed, but when he resumes his tale, he’s fast-forwarded considerably.  “Let’s assume that I work you gently but firmly, stretching you until you’re taking three of my fingers with ease.”

“Yes, that.”

“That’s when I curl my fingers to find that secret spot inside you that makes you twitch hard and cry out with bliss.”

“Oh, we’re going with the ‘magic prostate’ angle?”

“Yes, and shut up.  ‘It will be our secret,’ I say, rubbing it again, and you grind your hips into the bedcovers.  ‘I am ready,’ you gasp.  ‘Fill me with your magnificent cock.’”

Zach bursts out laughing, presumably at the purpleness of the prose, and Chris is ready to slap him when he gasps out, “Oh my god, Chris, I love you so much.  Don’t stop.”

“Well, I do fill you with my magnificent cock, slowly, inch by inch, watching your fingers clench great handfuls of blankets.  You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined anything could feel like this.  There is some discomfort, yes, but you feel so deliciously full, utterly split open and impaled on my cock.”

“God, yes,” Zach moans.  His eyes are closed and his head is tipped back.  The way he’s leaking over Chris’ fist on nearly every stroke means Chris needs to speed things up once more, narratively speaking.

“And then I move, thrusting over your sweet spot, and you wail.  I just grin and fuck you harder, wanting you utterly debauched, wanting you loud, so that anyone within earshot knows you’re mine, that I’ve claimed you for my own.  I grab you by the hair and twist your head around to kiss you, to make you say it.”

“Yours.  All yours.”

“Yes.  You love my cock.  You love my hands on you, stroking roughly all over your smooth, golden skin.  And I love to give it to you, to fill you up again and again, to reach my hand beneath your belly where your own cock is wet and dripping for me.”

Here is where narrative and reality converge, because Zach is right on the edge now, just as ready to go over as the cabin boy.  Chris has Zach, has him completely – his body, his mind, his heart – because that’s what Zach’s given him, what Zach’s trusted him with.  So he twists his hand on the upstroke, ignoring his wrist beginning to go sore, leans over Zach and whispers, “’Come for me, boy.  Only for me.’”

Zach makes a beautifully choked sound and pulses in Chris’ hand, shooting over his own stomach and chest, body shuddering as Chris holds him to the bed.  Chris strokes him until Zach makes a pained little sound and Chris lets go, glad Zach’s eyes are still closed so Chris can grimace a little and shake out his stiff wrist.

After a few breaths, Zach moans and reaches out for Chris, who slides easily into Zach’s open arms for a tender, almost chaste, kiss.  Chris gently strokes down Zach’s sides, wrapping his arms around Zach’s waist and holding him tight, still hard himself, but utterly content.  To think this all started with a nightmare.

They nuzzle and cuddle for a moment, and Chris wonders if Zach is falling back to sleep when he hears, “So how does it end?”

“Hmm?”

Zach’s eyes are open now, still a bit unfocused, but there’s a tinge of teasing humor in his voice.  “Well, I assume the pirate king himself came rather spectacularly buried deep within the cabin boy.”

“He most certainly did.  So spectacularly he knew right then that he would want no other, so good and perfect was his cabin boy.”

“Wow, that is pretty spectacular,” Zach says with a hazy, lazy smile.  “He ought to be gentle with his boy afterwards, given it was his first time and all.”

Chris grins and kisses lightly at Zach’s lips.  Zach is never this mushy – Chris is going to have to start coming up with some more elaborate fantasies.   You know, just in case Zach has a nightmare or wants a bedtime story.  “Very gentle.  He pulls out and tenderly turns his boy over to see his face, which is smiling.  He pushes the cabin boy’s sweaty hair back from his forehead and tells him—”

“Best.  Cabin boy.  Ever.”

“Tells him how sweet he is, how precious, how he’s welcome in the pirate king’s bed whenever he wants.  After all, it’s got to be better than the pallet on the floor, no matter how soft.”

“Mmm,” Zach hums, pressing a thigh between Chris’ in a way that gets Chris’ cock’s immediate attention.  “But I’m assuming he’s still got to play the part of attentive cabin boy during the day.”

“Of course.  Can’t have the others suspecting favoritism.”

“Oh, I’d imagine they’d suspect something, alright, after all that wailing” Zach says, and yes, his thigh is definitely rubbing against Chris’ hardening dick.  “So he’d have to play the part during the nights sometimes as well.  Attend to his captain’s… needs.  All of them.”

“Oh… oh yeah?” Chris stammers, having a hard time concentrating on what Zach’s saying due to the friction on his long-neglected cock.

“Mm-hmm,” Zach says, showing more alertness than Chris was expecting and rolling him on his back, beginning to kiss his way down the center of Chris’ body with unmistakable intention.  “After all, what’s a good cabin boy for?”