Old bedroom
Title: Old Bedroom
Pairing: Bush/Hornblower
Rating: PG/13
Summary: You let him fuck you in his old bedroom.
Disclaimers: They are not mine nor I'm making money writing about them.
Snow flakes melting on my fingers.
Little pieces of glass, tiny melting diamonds.
I'm rich.
I'm rich and covered in diamonds.
Hot and cold mixing together and I look up, casting my unblinking eyes on you. You.
Look at me would you please?
I'm bound with golden and ivory chains , salt waters are kissing and licking at my skin.
Look at me would you please?
I'm your Napoleon enveloped in velvet and in magnificence, claiming this country as mine.
I'm your Muse, inspiring you.
I'm your Cleopatra, naked rolling out of the rug with grace.
But you are talking with them.
I'm not jealous about them.
I can hear them laughing, see the way they are searching you, wanting you, touching you.
Soft and sensual they are, they are walking in front of me.
Silky, smoothly and slowly dancing around you with each step they are taking.
They missed you, so they want to have you as much as they can.
Your sisters, you love them, they are all your spouses.
Four beautiful spouses in your bed, seducing you, loving you, giving all the children you would want.
I'm almost waiting for the moment where one of them will break her chastity and sinuously embrace your strong body with her trembling, soft and delicate flesh.
In my twisted mind. Maybe I'm after all, jealous of them.
You keep in dragging me here.
My sisters likes you Horatio. You said one night while we were going back to our country.
You made me lie to my wife and I came here. And I let you fuck me in your old bedroom, on your bed where you were sleeping before meeting me, before becoming my First Lieutenant.
All this snow is covering and silencing this little town, silencing it like you silenced me with your kisses.
I remember, at dawn, sunlight, sunlight was filling my cabin.
It's sharp and it's clear sir. You whispered an inch away from my moist lips while holding both my wrists.
Outside my cabin a young marine was yawning.
Can't you see my Captain?
I was struggling to not drown into your tide.
You can have an empire and rule all the Seven Seas with me satisfied to be the one who stands beside you. I only want one thing.
What? I asked feeling your lips brushing against mine.
You. Bruised kiss and your scent lingering in the air, you left me breathing heavily while staring at the closed door.
Lancelot, I guess you are my Lancelot. Then.
Or maybe am I mistaking you for my Excalibur?
I never listened to you anyway.
Like I should.
There's something that you are keeping away from me. You stole it years ago and it's like you are holding it now under your tongue.
I know that you will be the one who will catch the star when it will fall.
Silence me. Silence me and all my stupid thoughts about what I am and what is my duty.
Snow is falling and we are reaching your home.
Silvery flakes covering me.
I'm rich.
I'm rich and covered in diamonds and lust.
I've been here before.
The Moon is naked and made of gold and I just want more of you.
Last time you fucked me against the delicately decorated wall of their petite dining room.
I'm married. I said the first time you entered me.
I know. You only said before claiming my lips.
Drench me, drench me because I'm feeling sea sick again.
But I'm dancing also if I can't understand music.
You are electric and you are a tide and I'm a ship navigating through your electric storm.
They are sleeping, your spouses.
I'm here, I'm naked and you are covering my body.
It's amazing the way I let you strip me off so that my duties and beliefs are being cast away with each kiss and each push of your hips.
Lying naked between crisp cotton sheets, wearing only my skin and your love bites.
Outside snow is falling. Slowly, a light and cold dance of perfection, covering everything.
You keep in making me come here.
You keep in making me lie to my wife.
You keep in making me moan your name.
And then it's all about the way you suck at my tongue while your large hands will travel up and down my back. And then it's all about your skin, salty under my tongue and rough under my fingertips, so different from mine. And then it's all about your odour, your strong musky scent mixed with old wood and salt and gunpowder.
It's opulent and rich and you are made of fire.
It will stay on me days after and days.
Your sisters, they will be able to smell you on me.
After all these years, I guess, your scent is mixed with mine. Forever. And maybe between them, they will whisper and chuckle at what kind of sin you let me do inside your old bedroom.
I'm not used to be like this. This needy and sensual creature.
I'm not used in not thinking and driving myself crazy over what is right and what is wrong.
I'm a soldier, a warrior. I know my games and my enemies but nobody can turn me upside down like you do. Nobody can defeat me in this way; just have me in this way. Have me in a complete way without a way of returning.
Don't think Horatio. You command me. Here I'm not your Captain.
I feel your large warm hand and long fingers moving in a small circular pattern over my chest. I relax under your soft touch, thinking that this is one of your habits whenever we are getting ready to sleep. You will drawn strange patterns on my skin, until your movements will slow down and then stop as you fall asleep, your long arm keeping me pressed against your large chest.
You say that your duty is to protect me also when I'm on shore, also when I'm in your bed, in your old bedroom.
Horatio. You whisper against my neck, hot breath across my skin.
I'm not a romantic person.
I'm not a sentimentalist and a sensible person.
I should push away your naked body and break this sin, instead I find myself pushing back in search of your warmth and protection.
Tomorrow we will go back to our ship and to our duties.
But tonight, allow me to not be surprised in falling asleep listening to your soft breath tickling my neck, telling me stories about you being a midshipman.
Pairing: Bush/Hornblower
Rating: PG/13
Summary: You let him fuck you in his old bedroom.
Disclaimers: They are not mine nor I'm making money writing about them.
Snow flakes melting on my fingers.
Little pieces of glass, tiny melting diamonds.
I'm rich.
I'm rich and covered in diamonds.
Hot and cold mixing together and I look up, casting my unblinking eyes on you. You.
Look at me would you please?
I'm bound with golden and ivory chains , salt waters are kissing and licking at my skin.
Look at me would you please?
I'm your Napoleon enveloped in velvet and in magnificence, claiming this country as mine.
I'm your Muse, inspiring you.
I'm your Cleopatra, naked rolling out of the rug with grace.
But you are talking with them.
I'm not jealous about them.
I can hear them laughing, see the way they are searching you, wanting you, touching you.
Soft and sensual they are, they are walking in front of me.
Silky, smoothly and slowly dancing around you with each step they are taking.
They missed you, so they want to have you as much as they can.
Your sisters, you love them, they are all your spouses.
Four beautiful spouses in your bed, seducing you, loving you, giving all the children you would want.
I'm almost waiting for the moment where one of them will break her chastity and sinuously embrace your strong body with her trembling, soft and delicate flesh.
In my twisted mind. Maybe I'm after all, jealous of them.
You keep in dragging me here.
My sisters likes you Horatio. You said one night while we were going back to our country.
You made me lie to my wife and I came here. And I let you fuck me in your old bedroom, on your bed where you were sleeping before meeting me, before becoming my First Lieutenant.
All this snow is covering and silencing this little town, silencing it like you silenced me with your kisses.
I remember, at dawn, sunlight, sunlight was filling my cabin.
It's sharp and it's clear sir. You whispered an inch away from my moist lips while holding both my wrists.
Outside my cabin a young marine was yawning.
Can't you see my Captain?
I was struggling to not drown into your tide.
You can have an empire and rule all the Seven Seas with me satisfied to be the one who stands beside you. I only want one thing.
What? I asked feeling your lips brushing against mine.
You. Bruised kiss and your scent lingering in the air, you left me breathing heavily while staring at the closed door.
Lancelot, I guess you are my Lancelot. Then.
Or maybe am I mistaking you for my Excalibur?
I never listened to you anyway.
Like I should.
There's something that you are keeping away from me. You stole it years ago and it's like you are holding it now under your tongue.
I know that you will be the one who will catch the star when it will fall.
Silence me. Silence me and all my stupid thoughts about what I am and what is my duty.
Snow is falling and we are reaching your home.
Silvery flakes covering me.
I'm rich.
I'm rich and covered in diamonds and lust.
I've been here before.
The Moon is naked and made of gold and I just want more of you.
Last time you fucked me against the delicately decorated wall of their petite dining room.
I'm married. I said the first time you entered me.
I know. You only said before claiming my lips.
Drench me, drench me because I'm feeling sea sick again.
But I'm dancing also if I can't understand music.
You are electric and you are a tide and I'm a ship navigating through your electric storm.
They are sleeping, your spouses.
I'm here, I'm naked and you are covering my body.
It's amazing the way I let you strip me off so that my duties and beliefs are being cast away with each kiss and each push of your hips.
Lying naked between crisp cotton sheets, wearing only my skin and your love bites.
Outside snow is falling. Slowly, a light and cold dance of perfection, covering everything.
You keep in making me come here.
You keep in making me lie to my wife.
You keep in making me moan your name.
And then it's all about the way you suck at my tongue while your large hands will travel up and down my back. And then it's all about your skin, salty under my tongue and rough under my fingertips, so different from mine. And then it's all about your odour, your strong musky scent mixed with old wood and salt and gunpowder.
It's opulent and rich and you are made of fire.
It will stay on me days after and days.
Your sisters, they will be able to smell you on me.
After all these years, I guess, your scent is mixed with mine. Forever. And maybe between them, they will whisper and chuckle at what kind of sin you let me do inside your old bedroom.
I'm not used to be like this. This needy and sensual creature.
I'm not used in not thinking and driving myself crazy over what is right and what is wrong.
I'm a soldier, a warrior. I know my games and my enemies but nobody can turn me upside down like you do. Nobody can defeat me in this way; just have me in this way. Have me in a complete way without a way of returning.
Don't think Horatio. You command me. Here I'm not your Captain.
I feel your large warm hand and long fingers moving in a small circular pattern over my chest. I relax under your soft touch, thinking that this is one of your habits whenever we are getting ready to sleep. You will drawn strange patterns on my skin, until your movements will slow down and then stop as you fall asleep, your long arm keeping me pressed against your large chest.
You say that your duty is to protect me also when I'm on shore, also when I'm in your bed, in your old bedroom.
Horatio. You whisper against my neck, hot breath across my skin.
I'm not a romantic person.
I'm not a sentimentalist and a sensible person.
I should push away your naked body and break this sin, instead I find myself pushing back in search of your warmth and protection.
Tomorrow we will go back to our ship and to our duties.
But tonight, allow me to not be surprised in falling asleep listening to your soft breath tickling my neck, telling me stories about you being a midshipman.