Lovers 100 : The Squelchy
Title: The Squelchy
Summery: No self-respecting woman will let a naked man in socks do the squelchy with her him.
Prompt: 062. Strip
Pairing: Gillington
Genre: POTC
Rating: PG-13
Author: Rebecca (alienstars2004 / Blueberry Pancakes)
Warnings: Slash
Feedback: Yes, please.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to join me for dinner, again, tonight, Lieutenant.” James smiled softly as they walked towards his home.
“We’re well beyond earshot of anyone who cares, James. Besides, we’re off duty- we can use names, not titles, now.” Andrew smiled back.
“One never can be too cautious.” James sighed.
“True…” Andrew nodded.
They approached the front door and James quickly let them inside. Dinner was already waiting for them, and the maid, Mrs. Dakotah was excused for the day.
“If I weren’t so starving, I’d say let’s skip dinner and go straight to buggering each other’s brains out in the bedroom.” Andrew mumbled around a mouthful of bread.
James laughed, “So forward.”
“Mind you, ye’re not takin’ a second place to food. I’ve just not eaten at all today.”
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”
Andrew swallowed. “She gave up by the time I came along.”
James laughed quietly.
After their meal they forced themselves to wait, sitting in the parlor and sipping on a glass of wine, in order to let their food settle.
“What mischief do you want to get up to, tonight?” Andrew asked, as he pressed close to James, hand sliding dangerously along his thigh.
“I think…” James inhaled sharply as Andrew nuzzled his neck, “this conversation is best suited… for the bedroom.” He could feel Andrew’s grin against him.
“Very well… led the way, dearest.”
James trailed his hand across Andrew’s shoulder, feeling the uniform shirt beneath it.
“Now… what was that answer of yours? I don’t believe I heard it…”
James whispered back, in equally low and seductive tones, “That’s because I never said.” He caught his lips in a quick and heated kiss.
Andrew’s hands came up to gently clasp either side of James’s face, thumbs stroking smooth cheeks. He gently responded, resting his forehead against James.
“What does your heart desire?” James murmured, voice low and deep.
“Heart?” Andrew wiggled his eyebrows.
“You know what I meant.” James nipped at his lip.
Andrew pressed his lips close to his ear, “I’ll tell you… if you tell me, what it is you desire.”
James whispered in heated breath, “Undress… for me…”
Andrew paused, making a soft clicking noise in response. “I will…” He nuzzled his jaw, “If you undress for me, first…”
James hesitated for a moment, before sliding his body slowly back, and off the bed.
Andrew leaned back against the pillows, settling in. He grinned, waiting for the show to occur before him, the audience solely him, the single performance by his lover dearest.
Their coats had already been divulged earlier that evening. James’s hands came to rise to his powdered wig. He slowly worked the pins out of their place, one by own, keeping them in a cupped hand, until the single-curled wig slid freely and he lifted it away, setting it on the stand behind him. He reached for the tie at his hair and tugged it free. He shook his head, long, faintly curled, coffee locks cascaded down across his shoulders, tendrils coming down to shade rich green eyes.
His hands came to work at the knot at his neck. He twisted slowly, loosening it until it hung down. He took hold of one end and pulled it down, tossing it aside, where it landed somewhere on the floor.
His uniform shirt was fresh and crisp white. Pale, lean hands slid across his chest, roaming down to his belly. He let a soft moan escape his lips as he felt his own body beneath the thin fabric, as though the pleasure of the self-touch was too much to hold inside.
He could see Andrew’s eyes darkening. It made his breeches pull uncomfortably tight.
He finally pulled the shirt over his head. It too was tossed aside, forgotten somewhere in the company with his discarded cravat. He couldn’t help but shiver slightly as the cool air hit his skin, heated by his own motions and the swirling thoughts in his head. Dark nipples came to attention with the swift coolness, and he drew his hand down his chest and belly until it came to rest at the waistband of his breeches. He hovered there, slightly, before slipping a finger inside.
Andrew inhaled sharply, eyes flashing. His hand slowly came to clutch a around a handful of the sheets beneath him on the bed.
James barely teased himself before he undid the buttons, one at a time, until they were all undone. He pulled the folds of fabric to the side, freeing his already very attentive member, silently begging for some attention. He forced himself to neglect his needs, knowing full and well that Andrew would take care of everything he needed and desired, as the night drew on. He bent down, hair falling forward and covering his face with a dark veil, as he slid the rough fabric down his legs, until it pooled at his feet. He kicked it aside and drew himself up to his full height, back straight and tall.
Andrew suddenly burst into loud giggles. He tried to stop, but only started again, with more fervor than before the first bout.
James feared his shoulders weren’t the only things to slump. He flushed red-hot. “Why are you laughing?” He asked, voice timid and meek.
Andrew could hardly speak. He fell down onto the bed, half-curled on his side. He looked back up at James, and burst out into laughter again, clutching his stomach. “’M sorry…” He choked out.
James’s blush didn’t relent. He looked forlornly down at himself, trying to figure out what Andrew found so bloody amusing.
“Ye’re… stockings, love…”
James tilted his head. They had gotten scrunched down to his ankles when he’d dealt with his breeches.
“I don’t think any self-respecting person would make love to a naked man in stockings…” Andrew clapped a hand over his mouth.
James continued to frown, “I thought you said you liked stockings…” He murmured, eyes and face showing his hurt.
“Yes, but… James love… they’re… not… they’re at your ankles.” Andrew let out a snorting cough in attempt to stifle it.
James bent at the waist and pulled them off hastily, throwing them to the side.
“There.” He grumbled.
Andrew shook his head. “Sorry, love… the image… the image has been burned into my mind… forever, I think.”
James’s shoulders curled forward. He suddenly felt awkward and ashamed of his nakedness, not to mention his obvious desire (though it had faded more than just slightly) between his legs.
“James…” Andrew called softly, voice still merry, though he didn’t laugh.
A pause.
“Yes?”
“Come here.”
James forced himself to look up again. Andrew laid there, a soft and reassuring smile playing on his lips. He slowly came to the bed, kicking the offending stockings beneath the bed, out of sight, as he did.
Andrew took him into his arms, kissing him tenderly. “I’m sorry I laughed at you.” He murmured.
“’S not funny…” James mumbled.
Andrew’s body jolted once with aborted laughter. He laid him back against the pillows and brought himself up straight on his knees.
“You did fulfill my request… it’s only fair I finish my part of the bargain…” He untied his cravat, slowly, teasingly, his nimble fingers working to show every movement suggestively. He raised his arms and pulled his shirt over his head. His breeches soon followed. He shuttered as he brought James’s hand to his growing arousal.
James quickly broke from the reclusive shell, growing bolder, his confidence returning and desire growing to attention again with each arch and moan from Andrew. He opened his mouth in protest as Andrew drew away, but was silenced by a single finger across his lips.
“Just look…” Andrew murmured, eyebrows flicking upwards. He slid backwards off the bed and stepped back a few feet, so that James had a clear view of him: completely naked, raging hardness between his legs, stockings scrunched down at his ankles.
James stared for a moment. A slow, inane grin spread across his face. He let out a low, sputtering laugh.
Summery: No self-respecting woman will let a naked man in socks do the squelchy with her him.
Prompt: 062. Strip
Pairing: Gillington
Genre: POTC
Rating: PG-13
Author: Rebecca (alienstars2004 / Blueberry Pancakes)
Warnings: Slash
Feedback: Yes, please.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to join me for dinner, again, tonight, Lieutenant.” James smiled softly as they walked towards his home.
“We’re well beyond earshot of anyone who cares, James. Besides, we’re off duty- we can use names, not titles, now.” Andrew smiled back.
“One never can be too cautious.” James sighed.
“True…” Andrew nodded.
They approached the front door and James quickly let them inside. Dinner was already waiting for them, and the maid, Mrs. Dakotah was excused for the day.
“If I weren’t so starving, I’d say let’s skip dinner and go straight to buggering each other’s brains out in the bedroom.” Andrew mumbled around a mouthful of bread.
James laughed, “So forward.”
“Mind you, ye’re not takin’ a second place to food. I’ve just not eaten at all today.”
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”
Andrew swallowed. “She gave up by the time I came along.”
James laughed quietly.
After their meal they forced themselves to wait, sitting in the parlor and sipping on a glass of wine, in order to let their food settle.
“What mischief do you want to get up to, tonight?” Andrew asked, as he pressed close to James, hand sliding dangerously along his thigh.
“I think…” James inhaled sharply as Andrew nuzzled his neck, “this conversation is best suited… for the bedroom.” He could feel Andrew’s grin against him.
“Very well… led the way, dearest.”
James trailed his hand across Andrew’s shoulder, feeling the uniform shirt beneath it.
“Now… what was that answer of yours? I don’t believe I heard it…”
James whispered back, in equally low and seductive tones, “That’s because I never said.” He caught his lips in a quick and heated kiss.
Andrew’s hands came up to gently clasp either side of James’s face, thumbs stroking smooth cheeks. He gently responded, resting his forehead against James.
“What does your heart desire?” James murmured, voice low and deep.
“Heart?” Andrew wiggled his eyebrows.
“You know what I meant.” James nipped at his lip.
Andrew pressed his lips close to his ear, “I’ll tell you… if you tell me, what it is you desire.”
James whispered in heated breath, “Undress… for me…”
Andrew paused, making a soft clicking noise in response. “I will…” He nuzzled his jaw, “If you undress for me, first…”
James hesitated for a moment, before sliding his body slowly back, and off the bed.
Andrew leaned back against the pillows, settling in. He grinned, waiting for the show to occur before him, the audience solely him, the single performance by his lover dearest.
Their coats had already been divulged earlier that evening. James’s hands came to rise to his powdered wig. He slowly worked the pins out of their place, one by own, keeping them in a cupped hand, until the single-curled wig slid freely and he lifted it away, setting it on the stand behind him. He reached for the tie at his hair and tugged it free. He shook his head, long, faintly curled, coffee locks cascaded down across his shoulders, tendrils coming down to shade rich green eyes.
His hands came to work at the knot at his neck. He twisted slowly, loosening it until it hung down. He took hold of one end and pulled it down, tossing it aside, where it landed somewhere on the floor.
His uniform shirt was fresh and crisp white. Pale, lean hands slid across his chest, roaming down to his belly. He let a soft moan escape his lips as he felt his own body beneath the thin fabric, as though the pleasure of the self-touch was too much to hold inside.
He could see Andrew’s eyes darkening. It made his breeches pull uncomfortably tight.
He finally pulled the shirt over his head. It too was tossed aside, forgotten somewhere in the company with his discarded cravat. He couldn’t help but shiver slightly as the cool air hit his skin, heated by his own motions and the swirling thoughts in his head. Dark nipples came to attention with the swift coolness, and he drew his hand down his chest and belly until it came to rest at the waistband of his breeches. He hovered there, slightly, before slipping a finger inside.
Andrew inhaled sharply, eyes flashing. His hand slowly came to clutch a around a handful of the sheets beneath him on the bed.
James barely teased himself before he undid the buttons, one at a time, until they were all undone. He pulled the folds of fabric to the side, freeing his already very attentive member, silently begging for some attention. He forced himself to neglect his needs, knowing full and well that Andrew would take care of everything he needed and desired, as the night drew on. He bent down, hair falling forward and covering his face with a dark veil, as he slid the rough fabric down his legs, until it pooled at his feet. He kicked it aside and drew himself up to his full height, back straight and tall.
Andrew suddenly burst into loud giggles. He tried to stop, but only started again, with more fervor than before the first bout.
James feared his shoulders weren’t the only things to slump. He flushed red-hot. “Why are you laughing?” He asked, voice timid and meek.
Andrew could hardly speak. He fell down onto the bed, half-curled on his side. He looked back up at James, and burst out into laughter again, clutching his stomach. “’M sorry…” He choked out.
James’s blush didn’t relent. He looked forlornly down at himself, trying to figure out what Andrew found so bloody amusing.
“Ye’re… stockings, love…”
James tilted his head. They had gotten scrunched down to his ankles when he’d dealt with his breeches.
“I don’t think any self-respecting person would make love to a naked man in stockings…” Andrew clapped a hand over his mouth.
James continued to frown, “I thought you said you liked stockings…” He murmured, eyes and face showing his hurt.
“Yes, but… James love… they’re… not… they’re at your ankles.” Andrew let out a snorting cough in attempt to stifle it.
James bent at the waist and pulled them off hastily, throwing them to the side.
“There.” He grumbled.
Andrew shook his head. “Sorry, love… the image… the image has been burned into my mind… forever, I think.”
James’s shoulders curled forward. He suddenly felt awkward and ashamed of his nakedness, not to mention his obvious desire (though it had faded more than just slightly) between his legs.
“James…” Andrew called softly, voice still merry, though he didn’t laugh.
A pause.
“Yes?”
“Come here.”
James forced himself to look up again. Andrew laid there, a soft and reassuring smile playing on his lips. He slowly came to the bed, kicking the offending stockings beneath the bed, out of sight, as he did.
Andrew took him into his arms, kissing him tenderly. “I’m sorry I laughed at you.” He murmured.
“’S not funny…” James mumbled.
Andrew’s body jolted once with aborted laughter. He laid him back against the pillows and brought himself up straight on his knees.
“You did fulfill my request… it’s only fair I finish my part of the bargain…” He untied his cravat, slowly, teasingly, his nimble fingers working to show every movement suggestively. He raised his arms and pulled his shirt over his head. His breeches soon followed. He shuttered as he brought James’s hand to his growing arousal.
James quickly broke from the reclusive shell, growing bolder, his confidence returning and desire growing to attention again with each arch and moan from Andrew. He opened his mouth in protest as Andrew drew away, but was silenced by a single finger across his lips.
“Just look…” Andrew murmured, eyebrows flicking upwards. He slid backwards off the bed and stepped back a few feet, so that James had a clear view of him: completely naked, raging hardness between his legs, stockings scrunched down at his ankles.
James stared for a moment. A slow, inane grin spread across his face. He let out a low, sputtering laugh.