Captain's Cabin
Title: Captain's Cabin
Fandom: One Piece
Characters/Pairings: Kidd/Killer
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2644
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.
Warnings/Notes: THIS FANFIC WAS (MOSTLY) WRITTEN BY CANDLELIGHT. REMEMBER THE GOOD OLD DAYS KIDS? Too sick to draw, have some random KiddxKiller smut. Many thanks to the lovely Acidgraffiti for beta reading!
--
A last few rays of sunlight disappeared behind the distant horizon to leave the night sky to the stars. Around him, Killer could hear the low creaking of wood as gentle waves lapped at the ship, nudging it on its course through the sea. Most of the crew retreated below deck once the cold night air set in. He decided they were headed towards a winter island, but had yet to see the glimpse of land that proved it.
Despite all but the bare minimum required for running the ship having departed below, Killer was in no rush to follow them. His body bore no evidence of his mood, and he’d spent the last couple of hours cleaning his blades. That could only be drawn out for a limited time however, and now the sun was gone, it was difficult to put up a pretense of actually having something to do in order to shirk his duties below deck.
Lurching to his feet, Killer turned to the steps below deck, but stopped when his gaze connected with a pair of red eyes just emerging. Kidd looked up at him, but made no move. Somehow the tension in his expression gave away his poor mood.
“I was about to,” he said, voice level without the tone of remorse associated with an excuse.
Satisfied with the answer - he had no real desire to argue with one of his best men - Kidd turned away into the darkness below deck, his fur coat whipping around the corner. Killer didn’t really mind his temper. Eustass Kidd was not the most pleasant of men, but neither of them were. They both took delight in violence and destruction. His own aggression invoked a healthy admiration from his Captain.
Killer descended the staircase into the gloomy lower decks. The sky disappeared behind him and he felt the oppressive air of the enclosed space. Even though it was poorly lit, he knew his way around by memory. It had been a good while since they’d been at a port. As a result, the amount of candles and oil had dwindled to minimal levels, leaving the insides of the ship in darkness. The remnants were consigned to the navigator for reading maps by. He didn’t care much.
Feeling his way along the wall, Killer counted the number of door frames. He didn’t waste time, for he wasn’t apprehensive, but he was in no rush. Whilst he served under his Captain, he still felt he was entitled to some of his own free will.
Once he reached the right door, he stopped, raising his fist to knock. He was interrupted however, by a call from inside, his presence already detected.
“Just come in already.”
Killer never showed any expression and entered the room as calm as ever. Underneath this exterior, he was simmering. This was Kidd’s own room, where he sat on the edge of the bed, starkly highlighted by a faint gleam of starlight coming through the cabin window. There was nothing personable about him now, even compared to their usual easy going interaction. He appeared stiff, and refused to look up at Killer’s mask. He raised a hand to beckon him over, not staying a word.
“You should take that off first,” Killer said, already shrugging out of his own top and unbuttoning his jeans. He kicked his boots off and left them behind the door, of which he’d lowered the catch. “If you are in such a rush, that is.”
Kidd’s nose crinkled in the dark, but he was too tense to argue the suggestion even though he hated being commanded. He slipped out of his jacket and draped it over the bed behind him. Edging back, he reached down to pull his boots off and tossed them on the floor. Without much enthusiasm, he unbuttoned his trousers and reached in to untuck himself.
By now, Killer was stripped bare. He left his clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed and approached Kidd in silence. The other man, he noted, wasn’t even hard, bringing Killer to wonder why he was even bothering to call him here. But he didn’t share that thought. He knew what he was expected to do, even though he was now watching Kidd stroking himself to hardness. It came off as forced.
Killer didn’t need to be told to get on the bed, climbing on and rolling into the centre, settling on his side. He faced away from Kidd, and emanated an air of mild annoyance despite his emotionless exterior. A low rattle of a cabinet beside the bed indicated that Kidd was fetching a tube of lubricant and the was a soft thud of it landing on the sheets. The bed dipped behind Killer as Kidd clambered on, and he felt a hand pressing against the back of his thigh. He didn’t react.
In his eyes, there was nothing repellent about Kidd, which was why he never protested in the first place. If he wanted some kind of relief he was more than happy to give it, but this never quelled the frustrations brewing in either of them. It was as if Kidd believed that he should do it this way, because he was expected to. The slow slide of a hand up the back of his thigh, disinterested, not seductive, just enforced Killer’s idea. No attention was paid to his own flaccid cock; he didn’t object to being fucked, but he wasn’t interested in it either.
Turning his head, Killer peered through his mask to watch Kidd’s face as he groped around the sheets for the lube. The movement caught his attention, and Kidd leant forwards a little in show of over-compensatory confidence.
“What?” Painted lips curled down in a scowl, the light just enough for Killer to read the expression by.
Whilst Killer didn’t hold a fear of Kidd, he knew when it was better to keep his mouth shut. More out of common sense than fear, as saying the wrong thing would ignite the cruel man’s temper like a spark hitting tinder. Past mistakes - not that he’d made many - had drawn him into fights that he inevitably lost.
Several seconds judgement, an odd lurch of the ship in the waves, and Killer lifted a hand to urge Kidd to the bed. He didn’t issue a demand, but his body language made it more of a suggestion.
Kidd, of course, didn’t move. The change in routine was unwelcome, and his annoyed expression bordered on anger. Sometimes, Killer decided, hanging around this guy was like being friends with a stick of dynamite. He needed to remind himself that he did like him, as volatile as he was.
“I said before, I ain’t taking it,” Kidd replied to the gesture, his tone defensive and harsh.
“I have no intention,” Killer said in a more even tone, rolling onto his back and sitting up. His voice hardened a little. “But I think you will prefer what I plan to do.”
“Explain it then.” A metallic rattle that permeated the entire room indicated Kidd’s anger, but Killer ignored it. He could handle a few more scratches. Unerring, he kept motioning Kidd to move over.
“You should trust the judgement of your first mate.”
This caused Kidd to stall. Killer had yet to steer him wrong.
Bristling, he shoved Killer’s leg aside and tossed himself on the bed beside him, but still sat up. His body was too tense to consider lying back, already prepared to fight Killer should the need, or desire, arise. One of his legs remained bent at the knee, ready to kick out. Killer’s hand reached out for it to catch his balance, squeezing as he shifted himself on the bed until he was facing Kidd. Were it not for the mask, they’d be eye to eye. Instead, it was one way, and he took advantage of the few moments he had to stare into Kidd’s eyes. The time they’d known each other had given Kidd ample chance to become aware of this advantage however, and he tilted his head to the side, putting on a mask of arrogance before Killer had much chance to read his expression. He opened his mouth to urge Killer on, or perhaps send him away, yet stopped suddenly.
Killer was reaching for his mask. In the dark, the pair of them knew that Kidd would be unable to see much. With a little fiddling with both hands, it came off and he discarded it on the floor. Where his hair had been pushed back before, it now tumbled forwards, the thick locks brushing against Kidd’s thighs. He reached down to grasp Kidd’s cock, not paying attention to the mistrustful look he got. It was only to guide himself anyway; the low light made him somewhat paranoid that he was going to bump his lips to his thigh or hip if he lost his bearings.
The other hand pushed Kidd’s raised leg out of the way, and he straddled the other, moving in complete silence. He did so quickly, despite being unaware of his own speed. In reality, Kidd had no time to react before a thumb rolled his foreskin back and lips met the tip of his erection.
Taken aback by the move, Kidd reached down either side of himself to grip the sheets, having to occupy his hands in some manner. Cascades of blond hair piled up between them. He couldn’t see Killer’s face behind a full fringe, though that did nothing to mute the feeling of his lips sliding around his shaft, encircling him and guiding into the warmth of his mouth. There was no denying that it felt good. Killer’s tongue slid against the underside with ease, and Kidd’s thighs twitched at the stimulation. That initial struggle he’d had to get it up before was forgotten. Now his cockstrained towards Killer’s mouth.
He wanted to say something, but nothing suitable came to mind. Like this, Killer was in no state to answer back either, though letting off a smug comment might soothe his nerves.
Killer pulled back to take a breather, as well as get a look up through his hair to Kidd. He’d noticed the change in the other man when his arousal rose to full attention in his mouth, and from the sounds of his hands clutching ever tighter at the sheets. Not being pulled away was a minor surprise, but he had no intention of giving Kidd an excuse, and gave the side of his cock a generous lick, rolling the flat of his tongue against the vein.
In the following minute, Killer resumed sucking Kidd off, moving at a slow pace, not teasing but easy-going. Over time, Kidd’s hand left the bedsheets to grasp at the masses of hair in his lap, his fingers getting lost in the sheer volume. Mutual shifting on both their parts allowed him to lie back on the bed, a fur cover cushioning his final drop against the pillows. Both of his legs had bent up to grapple at Killer’s ribs out of their own accord. They weren’t pushed away. When he was confident that he could hold himself steady, Killer reached around Kidd’s thigh to pet the softer skin on the inner side.
The dissipation of Kidd’s prior agitation made Killer bolder. His hands became more active, the one on Kidd’s thigh inching up until his fingertips were resting just a short distance from the top of his leg. His other arm tangled around the opposing leg for support, buried under heaps of hair. Like this they were closer, or at least more thoroughly entwined, than they’d been in any previous encounter. The way Kidd’s legs hugged at his chest felt warm and inviting, and though he was restrained in the noises he made, Killer still heard sharp breaths when he made the right move, as well as accelerated breathing. He worried less about producing sounds (within sane reason - they shared the deck with a number of men), low moans rumbling in the back of his throat, well within Kidd’s hearing range.
Kidd’s physical response gave Killer more than enough warning of his impending orgasm. His chest arched up, and the hands in his hair became more certain in their urging him forwards. He complied without complaint, not even having inner misgivings over the spontaneous action.
With a shuffling of his knees, Killer plastered himself to the backs of Kidd’s thighs, just in time to feel them quiver and flex against his body as come spilt into his mouth. He was sure he wrung a strangled moan out of Kidd, as brief as it was. Even so, he still got to feel Kidd’s fingers flex and then release his hair once his orgasm passed, the long strands catching on his nails.
When he pulled back, Killer saved no dignity for wiping off his chin, though he was careful picking himself out from between Kidd’s thighs. In front of him, Kidd was slouched back in the covers, out of breath but strangely peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as he got. At first, he was either too tired or too awkward to look at Killer, who despite his previous confidence, was a bit at loss now. He couldn’t leave Kidd’s room sporting an erection, a response of his own that was entirely unplanned. After considering options he had, he eventually opted for turning around and moving to the edge of the bed, intending to jerk himself off quickly before leaving.
“Oi, oi, what are you doing?”
Freezing at the sound of Kidd’s voice, Killer looked over his shoulder - not that it made a difference when he was turning into a wall of his own hair. Confusion, for a brief few moments at least, wrote itself in his body language. The dipping of the bed under the shifting of Kidd’s body almost made him jump off out of nervousness, yet hands clutching at his hair halted any retreat. It was well within the realms of Kidd’s sadism to drag him back that way.
“... Captain?” A hint of unease permeated Killer’s voice, and he swallowed as one of Kidd’s arms fought its way through the jungle of hair to hook around his chest.
“Yes?” The press of Kidd’s body was cushioned, but Killer still felt it. He was rather disappointed that he couldn’t feel much warmth, or the contours of Kidd’s chest.
Killer didn’t answer, just tilting his head down to watch the hand on his front slide ever further down until fingers brushed over base of his cock. Despite the all-consuming worry that nails were about to sink into sensitive flesh, he stayed put, breathing a little fast, but otherwise holding his ground. When it was apparent that he had no answer, Kidd wrapped his fingers around him, squeezing just tight enough to bring pleasure, not pain. At this, Killer shuddered and slumped back against Kidd. The other hand lifted up his hair a bit, testing the weight before fingers combed through the long strands.
“‘m not done yet,” Kidd explained eventually, sounding a little sour that he’d been forced to admit it.
Killer didn’t reply at first, shivering as Kidd’s hand worked over him. Reaching down, he entwined their fingers, urging Kidd on. Though he couldn’t see Kidd’s face, his actions were blatant enough that even an idiot could read them. Just unexpected. Letting out a rare chuckle, he tilted his head back, hoping that he was resting on Kidd’s shoulder.
“You just want to see under my mask, Captain.”
Kidd pushed hair away from the side of Killer’s face and leaned in to bite down (quite carefully) on his ear lobe. “Perhaps. Though I’ve already had a good feel.”
“Crude.”
“I’m a pirate for fuck’s sake.”
Fandom: One Piece
Characters/Pairings: Kidd/Killer
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2644
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or any of its characters.
Warnings/Notes: THIS FANFIC WAS (MOSTLY) WRITTEN BY CANDLELIGHT. REMEMBER THE GOOD OLD DAYS KIDS? Too sick to draw, have some random KiddxKiller smut. Many thanks to the lovely Acidgraffiti for beta reading!
--
A last few rays of sunlight disappeared behind the distant horizon to leave the night sky to the stars. Around him, Killer could hear the low creaking of wood as gentle waves lapped at the ship, nudging it on its course through the sea. Most of the crew retreated below deck once the cold night air set in. He decided they were headed towards a winter island, but had yet to see the glimpse of land that proved it.
Despite all but the bare minimum required for running the ship having departed below, Killer was in no rush to follow them. His body bore no evidence of his mood, and he’d spent the last couple of hours cleaning his blades. That could only be drawn out for a limited time however, and now the sun was gone, it was difficult to put up a pretense of actually having something to do in order to shirk his duties below deck.
Lurching to his feet, Killer turned to the steps below deck, but stopped when his gaze connected with a pair of red eyes just emerging. Kidd looked up at him, but made no move. Somehow the tension in his expression gave away his poor mood.
“I was about to,” he said, voice level without the tone of remorse associated with an excuse.
Satisfied with the answer - he had no real desire to argue with one of his best men - Kidd turned away into the darkness below deck, his fur coat whipping around the corner. Killer didn’t really mind his temper. Eustass Kidd was not the most pleasant of men, but neither of them were. They both took delight in violence and destruction. His own aggression invoked a healthy admiration from his Captain.
Killer descended the staircase into the gloomy lower decks. The sky disappeared behind him and he felt the oppressive air of the enclosed space. Even though it was poorly lit, he knew his way around by memory. It had been a good while since they’d been at a port. As a result, the amount of candles and oil had dwindled to minimal levels, leaving the insides of the ship in darkness. The remnants were consigned to the navigator for reading maps by. He didn’t care much.
Feeling his way along the wall, Killer counted the number of door frames. He didn’t waste time, for he wasn’t apprehensive, but he was in no rush. Whilst he served under his Captain, he still felt he was entitled to some of his own free will.
Once he reached the right door, he stopped, raising his fist to knock. He was interrupted however, by a call from inside, his presence already detected.
“Just come in already.”
Killer never showed any expression and entered the room as calm as ever. Underneath this exterior, he was simmering. This was Kidd’s own room, where he sat on the edge of the bed, starkly highlighted by a faint gleam of starlight coming through the cabin window. There was nothing personable about him now, even compared to their usual easy going interaction. He appeared stiff, and refused to look up at Killer’s mask. He raised a hand to beckon him over, not staying a word.
“You should take that off first,” Killer said, already shrugging out of his own top and unbuttoning his jeans. He kicked his boots off and left them behind the door, of which he’d lowered the catch. “If you are in such a rush, that is.”
Kidd’s nose crinkled in the dark, but he was too tense to argue the suggestion even though he hated being commanded. He slipped out of his jacket and draped it over the bed behind him. Edging back, he reached down to pull his boots off and tossed them on the floor. Without much enthusiasm, he unbuttoned his trousers and reached in to untuck himself.
By now, Killer was stripped bare. He left his clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed and approached Kidd in silence. The other man, he noted, wasn’t even hard, bringing Killer to wonder why he was even bothering to call him here. But he didn’t share that thought. He knew what he was expected to do, even though he was now watching Kidd stroking himself to hardness. It came off as forced.
Killer didn’t need to be told to get on the bed, climbing on and rolling into the centre, settling on his side. He faced away from Kidd, and emanated an air of mild annoyance despite his emotionless exterior. A low rattle of a cabinet beside the bed indicated that Kidd was fetching a tube of lubricant and the was a soft thud of it landing on the sheets. The bed dipped behind Killer as Kidd clambered on, and he felt a hand pressing against the back of his thigh. He didn’t react.
In his eyes, there was nothing repellent about Kidd, which was why he never protested in the first place. If he wanted some kind of relief he was more than happy to give it, but this never quelled the frustrations brewing in either of them. It was as if Kidd believed that he should do it this way, because he was expected to. The slow slide of a hand up the back of his thigh, disinterested, not seductive, just enforced Killer’s idea. No attention was paid to his own flaccid cock; he didn’t object to being fucked, but he wasn’t interested in it either.
Turning his head, Killer peered through his mask to watch Kidd’s face as he groped around the sheets for the lube. The movement caught his attention, and Kidd leant forwards a little in show of over-compensatory confidence.
“What?” Painted lips curled down in a scowl, the light just enough for Killer to read the expression by.
Whilst Killer didn’t hold a fear of Kidd, he knew when it was better to keep his mouth shut. More out of common sense than fear, as saying the wrong thing would ignite the cruel man’s temper like a spark hitting tinder. Past mistakes - not that he’d made many - had drawn him into fights that he inevitably lost.
Several seconds judgement, an odd lurch of the ship in the waves, and Killer lifted a hand to urge Kidd to the bed. He didn’t issue a demand, but his body language made it more of a suggestion.
Kidd, of course, didn’t move. The change in routine was unwelcome, and his annoyed expression bordered on anger. Sometimes, Killer decided, hanging around this guy was like being friends with a stick of dynamite. He needed to remind himself that he did like him, as volatile as he was.
“I said before, I ain’t taking it,” Kidd replied to the gesture, his tone defensive and harsh.
“I have no intention,” Killer said in a more even tone, rolling onto his back and sitting up. His voice hardened a little. “But I think you will prefer what I plan to do.”
“Explain it then.” A metallic rattle that permeated the entire room indicated Kidd’s anger, but Killer ignored it. He could handle a few more scratches. Unerring, he kept motioning Kidd to move over.
“You should trust the judgement of your first mate.”
This caused Kidd to stall. Killer had yet to steer him wrong.
Bristling, he shoved Killer’s leg aside and tossed himself on the bed beside him, but still sat up. His body was too tense to consider lying back, already prepared to fight Killer should the need, or desire, arise. One of his legs remained bent at the knee, ready to kick out. Killer’s hand reached out for it to catch his balance, squeezing as he shifted himself on the bed until he was facing Kidd. Were it not for the mask, they’d be eye to eye. Instead, it was one way, and he took advantage of the few moments he had to stare into Kidd’s eyes. The time they’d known each other had given Kidd ample chance to become aware of this advantage however, and he tilted his head to the side, putting on a mask of arrogance before Killer had much chance to read his expression. He opened his mouth to urge Killer on, or perhaps send him away, yet stopped suddenly.
Killer was reaching for his mask. In the dark, the pair of them knew that Kidd would be unable to see much. With a little fiddling with both hands, it came off and he discarded it on the floor. Where his hair had been pushed back before, it now tumbled forwards, the thick locks brushing against Kidd’s thighs. He reached down to grasp Kidd’s cock, not paying attention to the mistrustful look he got. It was only to guide himself anyway; the low light made him somewhat paranoid that he was going to bump his lips to his thigh or hip if he lost his bearings.
The other hand pushed Kidd’s raised leg out of the way, and he straddled the other, moving in complete silence. He did so quickly, despite being unaware of his own speed. In reality, Kidd had no time to react before a thumb rolled his foreskin back and lips met the tip of his erection.
Taken aback by the move, Kidd reached down either side of himself to grip the sheets, having to occupy his hands in some manner. Cascades of blond hair piled up between them. He couldn’t see Killer’s face behind a full fringe, though that did nothing to mute the feeling of his lips sliding around his shaft, encircling him and guiding into the warmth of his mouth. There was no denying that it felt good. Killer’s tongue slid against the underside with ease, and Kidd’s thighs twitched at the stimulation. That initial struggle he’d had to get it up before was forgotten. Now his cockstrained towards Killer’s mouth.
He wanted to say something, but nothing suitable came to mind. Like this, Killer was in no state to answer back either, though letting off a smug comment might soothe his nerves.
Killer pulled back to take a breather, as well as get a look up through his hair to Kidd. He’d noticed the change in the other man when his arousal rose to full attention in his mouth, and from the sounds of his hands clutching ever tighter at the sheets. Not being pulled away was a minor surprise, but he had no intention of giving Kidd an excuse, and gave the side of his cock a generous lick, rolling the flat of his tongue against the vein.
In the following minute, Killer resumed sucking Kidd off, moving at a slow pace, not teasing but easy-going. Over time, Kidd’s hand left the bedsheets to grasp at the masses of hair in his lap, his fingers getting lost in the sheer volume. Mutual shifting on both their parts allowed him to lie back on the bed, a fur cover cushioning his final drop against the pillows. Both of his legs had bent up to grapple at Killer’s ribs out of their own accord. They weren’t pushed away. When he was confident that he could hold himself steady, Killer reached around Kidd’s thigh to pet the softer skin on the inner side.
The dissipation of Kidd’s prior agitation made Killer bolder. His hands became more active, the one on Kidd’s thigh inching up until his fingertips were resting just a short distance from the top of his leg. His other arm tangled around the opposing leg for support, buried under heaps of hair. Like this they were closer, or at least more thoroughly entwined, than they’d been in any previous encounter. The way Kidd’s legs hugged at his chest felt warm and inviting, and though he was restrained in the noises he made, Killer still heard sharp breaths when he made the right move, as well as accelerated breathing. He worried less about producing sounds (within sane reason - they shared the deck with a number of men), low moans rumbling in the back of his throat, well within Kidd’s hearing range.
Kidd’s physical response gave Killer more than enough warning of his impending orgasm. His chest arched up, and the hands in his hair became more certain in their urging him forwards. He complied without complaint, not even having inner misgivings over the spontaneous action.
With a shuffling of his knees, Killer plastered himself to the backs of Kidd’s thighs, just in time to feel them quiver and flex against his body as come spilt into his mouth. He was sure he wrung a strangled moan out of Kidd, as brief as it was. Even so, he still got to feel Kidd’s fingers flex and then release his hair once his orgasm passed, the long strands catching on his nails.
When he pulled back, Killer saved no dignity for wiping off his chin, though he was careful picking himself out from between Kidd’s thighs. In front of him, Kidd was slouched back in the covers, out of breath but strangely peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as he got. At first, he was either too tired or too awkward to look at Killer, who despite his previous confidence, was a bit at loss now. He couldn’t leave Kidd’s room sporting an erection, a response of his own that was entirely unplanned. After considering options he had, he eventually opted for turning around and moving to the edge of the bed, intending to jerk himself off quickly before leaving.
“Oi, oi, what are you doing?”
Freezing at the sound of Kidd’s voice, Killer looked over his shoulder - not that it made a difference when he was turning into a wall of his own hair. Confusion, for a brief few moments at least, wrote itself in his body language. The dipping of the bed under the shifting of Kidd’s body almost made him jump off out of nervousness, yet hands clutching at his hair halted any retreat. It was well within the realms of Kidd’s sadism to drag him back that way.
“... Captain?” A hint of unease permeated Killer’s voice, and he swallowed as one of Kidd’s arms fought its way through the jungle of hair to hook around his chest.
“Yes?” The press of Kidd’s body was cushioned, but Killer still felt it. He was rather disappointed that he couldn’t feel much warmth, or the contours of Kidd’s chest.
Killer didn’t answer, just tilting his head down to watch the hand on his front slide ever further down until fingers brushed over base of his cock. Despite the all-consuming worry that nails were about to sink into sensitive flesh, he stayed put, breathing a little fast, but otherwise holding his ground. When it was apparent that he had no answer, Kidd wrapped his fingers around him, squeezing just tight enough to bring pleasure, not pain. At this, Killer shuddered and slumped back against Kidd. The other hand lifted up his hair a bit, testing the weight before fingers combed through the long strands.
“‘m not done yet,” Kidd explained eventually, sounding a little sour that he’d been forced to admit it.
Killer didn’t reply at first, shivering as Kidd’s hand worked over him. Reaching down, he entwined their fingers, urging Kidd on. Though he couldn’t see Kidd’s face, his actions were blatant enough that even an idiot could read them. Just unexpected. Letting out a rare chuckle, he tilted his head back, hoping that he was resting on Kidd’s shoulder.
“You just want to see under my mask, Captain.”
Kidd pushed hair away from the side of Killer’s face and leaned in to bite down (quite carefully) on his ear lobe. “Perhaps. Though I’ve already had a good feel.”
“Crude.”
“I’m a pirate for fuck’s sake.”