Okay, so this is a one shot with no future installments (a first) and (drum roll please) my first mm romance. I really hope you guys like this since I plan to have a LOT more mm romances, because I mean seriously the only thing better than one hot hunky guy are two hot hunky guys getting it on. So please point out anything I got wrong, or things you’d like improved. Edited by the fabulous AdriannaBelen, beta read by Nikki E. Comment and rate.
The sea was a cruel, cruel bitch and the men crazy enough to pit themselves against her probably deserved whatever she could throw at them.
But Timothy Smith was one neither crazy nor a bloody sailor. He’d been trying to escape his father’s debtors in England and happened to stow away on a merchant’s ship down in the cargo hold. He’d heard snippets from the sailors saying that they were headed for the Caribbean but Timothy hadn’t particularly cared. Anywhere was better than the dark and damp hovel he’d shared with five older brothers and his gambler father. He’d spent four blissful weeks eating dried fruits, and occasionally stealing from the galley when he became tired of his fare – not that he was particularly picky. At home he would have to fight for whatever scraps were left over after his brothers had their fill.
Then bloody captain just had to go ahead and engage in a sea battle with a far superior pirate ship, and of course they were captured. Most of the crew had been forced to walk the plank. Timothy had hoped he’d be overlooked, hiding in one of the oversized wooden barrels but of course it was his lot in life to be screwed over. Someone had knocked into the barrel and he’d come tumbling out. All that ran through his mind at that very moment when over a dozen coarse and bearded men had been leering down at him were two things: number one – he didn’t know how to swim, and two – he’d probably drown a virgin.
It was at that moment the pirate captain, one of the biggest and roughest men Timothy had ever laid eyes on, parted the crowd. Tim was ashamed to admit it but he had been very close to shitting his britches when the man had pulled him up. Never, not in a million years, even with a sword at his throat, would Tim admit that he’d screamed like a prissy girl and fainted dead away. But in his defense, the up close and personal view of the captain’s vicious scar that bisected the left side of his face had brought to mind all those ghost stories his brothers used to tease him with; particularly the story of the pirate captain with a white scar down his face who ate the flesh off of little boys who ran off to sea.
Timothy liked to think his mother was looking down on him that day. Once he’d realized he wouldn’t be forced to walk the plank, he’d jumped at opportunity to work as the pirate captain’s cabin boy. He wasn’t naive enough to think that if he hadn’t agreed to the job, he wouldn’t have become one of the other sailor’s whore. In the merchant ship, he’d been privy to more than a few sailors bending over for another sailor. The guttural groans and masculine moans shouldn’t have made his throat grow dry or have his cock harden when he’s stared in abject fascination at the pumping pale buttocks of another man.
In shame, he’d slid his trembling hand down his flushed body to his aching shaft and stroked himself to the cacophony of skin slapping against skin and their pleasured moans. He’d never come so hard in his life, not even after he’d kissed the scullery maid from the Earl’s house and she’d let him feel her ample bosoms. She had been quick to pull away when he’d gotten to her bare breasts and he’d run home and wanked off to her wet kiss.
But that paled in comparison to what he’d seen. Since joining the pirate crew, he’d seen more than a few of the sailors sail in and out of the Captain’s chambers. Like the blushing virgin he was, he always ran away the second he heard groaning coming from the cabin and only came back after he was sure the captain had finished. For some reason, he didn’t like thinking of the Captain with other men. Captain Drake would laugh at his easy blushes, taunting him with his innocence. More than once, Timothy would have to strip the captain’s bed of semen stained sheets.
Timothy clung to the rope banded around his waist, the other hand holding onto a railing so he wouldn’t be swept away like many of the pirates before him. Timothy knew this storm was punishment for his sin; he should have never watched those men. He really shouldn’t have watched those sailors and he definitely shouldn’t have masturbated to what they’d been doing. But he had, and now this sea storm was going to take him straight to Davy Jones’ locker. He was sure he was going to die with these mean and horrible men that he’d been forced to work with for the past month and he’d never see his family again.
Bloody everlasting hell.
“Come on boy, you look like death’s coming for you,” Captain Drake shouted over the deafening crash of waves battering the three mast ship, affectionately named King’s Ransom. Drake looked like one of the devil’s minions as he flashed a smile in Timothy’s direction. It was intimidating, but Timothy had learned early on in his short employ that if he didn’t speak up and at least make an attempt at bravado, the captain would roll right over him.
“If you haven’t noticed, it seems the sea is pretty damn hungry for foolish sailors that think they can outrun her!” Timothy struggled to be overheard but the captain heard as he let out a roaring laugher.
“She’s a downright beauty, isn’t she?” Drake yelled back to Timothy, his thick arms bulging with strained muscles as he fought to hold the wheel of the ship still. No matter how much the captain made him uncomfortable, Timothy had to admit those wet and rippling muscles were drool worthy. He groaned. There he went again, ogling another man even in the eye of a storm. He fully expected to be struck down by lightning.
“She is not a beauty, she is a horrendous-”
“That’s my mistress you’re badmouthing, boy.” Drake’s voice was menacing, even more so than the sound of men screaming as they flew about the ship and Timothy flinched. He hated how the captain went from teasing to murderous in one second. He was expected to joke and laugh when the captain was amused or the captain would get insulted. But now that he had made a joke, Drake was still displeased. Timothy huffed; it didn’t matter anyway if he displeased the Captain. He’d be dead soon anyway.
Suddenly, a lightning bolt cracked across the sky and hit the ship, right where Timothy’s rope was tethered to a sturdy railing. He screamed as he felt the rope snap and he flew through the air. The ship lurched dangerously, a merciful wave crashing over the small fire started by the lightning. Water crashed over Timothy’s head and he swallowed a mouthful of foul, salty water. The seawater went up his nose and clogged his ears; it felt like his entire head was filled with the vile stuff. His hands and feet scrabbled at the slick wood, searching for traction but he knew he was going to slide off the deck.
Rough hands grabbed at the scuff of his neck and pulled him from the claws of death. Timothy clasped at his savior, feeling the captain’s solid muscles against his much smaller and scrawnier body. Needless of propriety – not that pirates’ had any, but Timothy was after all a newly initiated one – Timothy wrapped both his arms and legs around the captain. To hell with the captain’s anger, Timothy was willing to risk it.
Surprisingly, Timothy felt the man’s chest rumble with laughter as Timothy plastered his whole body to the brawny captain. One of the man’s arms came to band around Timothy’s waist, holding him in a secure embrace.
The captain leaned down so that his lips brushed against the wet rim of Timothy’s ear. “You alright, little Timmy?”
He hated that nickname, but the captain insisted on calling him that. He didn’t feel like wasting his breath when he had such little left and he was still shaking from his near drowning so he merely tuned his face away, tucked it under the Captain’s chin, and waited for the storm to abate. Now that Timothy was in the arms of a man who taunted death at every turn, Timothy strangely felt … safe?
No, that couldn’t be. No, it was impossible.
And yet, Timothy had never felt so warm and secure as he did now wrapped so embarrassingly around the older man.
The storm continued to rage around them and thankfully the captain was too busy to tease Timothy when he let out the occasional whimper. The ship rode the waves, guided under the captain’s skillful hands but Timothy felt him tiring. He was only steering with one hand, the other still holding on to Timothy. He felt a little guilty and after the ship crested the next wave, he loosed his hold and slid down his body.
If anything, the Captain’s hand only tightened around his body.
“Hold on, dammit!” The captain’s growl was lost in the sounds of the storm but his fierce scowl had Timothy quickly climb back onto the captain. He crossed his legs behind the captain’s back, resting his feet just above the man’s perky buttocks. Not that Timothy had noticed if they were perky or otherwise.
“Oh God, oh God, oh god…” Timothy began to chant as he saw the larges wave of the day tower high above the ship. For a moment everything went still and Timothy squeezed his eyes shut.
Timothy opened his eyes at the curse and looked up at the captain’s face. He looked resigned and yet defiant. It gave Timothy the courage he needed. He prayed to god that he would make it through this; promising he would pray regularly if God did and he would resign from his short lived career as a pirate. He even prayed for his captain, promising god that he’d try to steer the man into a legal business. Only if god didn’t kill him.
When the wave crashed over the ship, Timothy dimly heard the break of wood as the old gal finally broke under the intense pressure. Men shouted as they were flung from the ship, broken pieces of wood flying everywhere. It was a chaotic mess and Timothy would have lost every sense of where and what he was if it hadn’t been for the captain. They flew into the deep abyss of the sea but both still clung to each other. The captain was Timothy’s only life line.
Timothy felt the man’s arms falling and knew he was dragging the man down. However, Timothy was selfish and he couldn’t will himself to let go. The captain pried him loose and Timothy wanted to cry out. The only thing he got was a mouthful of water.
But he needn’t have worried. The captain only maneuvered him onto his back until Timothy was hugging him like a monkey from behind. It freed his hands to be able to swim to the surface. Timothy used all his muscles to cling to the captain, only imaging how undignified he must look. The captain didn’t try to swim away, but used all his muscles to keep above the surface every time another wave sent them down.
It must have been hours before the sea finally calmed down into an eerie silence. No sign of life was to be seen for miles. Even though he hadn’t known the men on the ship very well and they usually treated him like shit, Timothy felt a pang of sadness at their loss. The captain and he were the only ones bobbing along the surface, alone in the vastness.
“Do you still think she’s a beauty?” Timothy croaked in the Captain’s ear.
The crazy man nodded, not looking back at Timothy. “Never been more beautiful.”
In a way, Timothy had to admit it was beautiful in a barren, dangerous sort of way. He laid his head down on the captain’s shoulder. “What do you think happened to the other men? Do-Do you thi-think-?” Timothy choked, biting back a helpless sob.
The captain only grunted and began swimming. Timothy dropped the subject and clung on. He was so grateful to the captain but he didn’t think any words could express his gratitude. He didn’t think the man wanted them anyway. The captain swam for hours, seemingly tireless. At one point, he had asked Timothy if he could swim now but Timothy had blushingly stuttered out that he didn’t know how. That had earned him another mocking laugh and the captain had continued to swim.
The past week with the Captain’s crew had taught him a lot of things; a lot of things that were lacking in him that is; He couldn’t cook, even though the cook had spent hours trying to beat him into making something edible in the Galley. He dropped gun powder and had almost set the ship on fire, so he’d summarily been banned from the canons. Neither was he allowed to go near the sails or the ropes, basically the stern and starboard.
The captain had more patience with him than anyone else. The first time Timothy had tried to shave him he’d almost put another scar on the man’s face. Timothy only cleaned and took care of the Captain. When he wasn’t doing that, he was usually on deck scrubbing the floors or cleaning out the chamber pots. Oh, how he hated that. His brothers had made him do that at home, too. Timothy sniffed, thinking about his brothers. He’d probably never see them again.
“Land ho, Timmy,” the Captain huffed, his burning muscles straining at the pressure he put on them.
Timothy glanced up and saw to the distance a small speck. Was he dreaming? If he was, he’d at least like to drink from a coconut before he woke up.
“Hurry,” Timothy urged. The Captain grunted, quickening his paces. Timothy bit his lip, knowing how much of a strain he was but at least he was a scrawny strain.
The captain finally reached shore, crawling onto the pristine white beach on his hands and knees before finally collapsing with half of his body still in the water. Timothy rolled off him, lying beside him and looked up at the still sky. Oh god, but how wonderful the soft and yielding sand felt against his back. It was a lot more solid and unmoving than the bloody, goddamn sea.
He rolled over and got up on his elbows, looking at the small island in the middle of nowhere. The beach went on for miles on either of them. A few yards of white sand gave way to a large forest, getting thicker and thicker. He just hoped one of them was a banana or coconut tree.
Timothy looked over to his companion when he didn’t respond. His heartbeat stuttered when he saw that the larger man wasn’t moving. Cursing, Timothy went up on his knees and pushed at the captain to roll him over. It took some effort, but he finally managed to roll the man over on his back.
To his relief, the captains’ chest rose up and down with his shallow breaths. His eyes were closed and he looked to be sleeping. Sand marred one half of his face, the side that was scarred. Personally, Timothy had begun to think the captain was handsome but only for small moments that he attributed to insanity. As soon as the coarse man opened his mouth, not even his eyes, that attraction went right out the window.
Biting his chapped lips and hoping he wasn’t about to have his hand bitten off, Timothy lightly slapped at the captain’s cheeks. When the light taps didn’t even get a wince out of him, Timothy put more force into his hits. The captain groaned but that was the extent. Swinging his hand back, he let it fly with all the force in his body.
The captain sputtered and came up swinging, but Timothy moved out of the way with just inches to spare his cheek from the man’s lethal fist. The burning in his palm was enough pain for one day.
“I fucking carry you through a storm and you slap me, boy?” the captain yelled, but there was little heat in the words. He rubbed his reddened cheek and looked at Timothy ruefully.
He did look tired. Timothy was on the verge of apologizing when the captain’s derisive words stopped it.
“Felt more like a gnat’s bite anyway,” the Captain grumbled as he lumbered to his feet.
Timothy huffed. “You could have let me drown.”
The captain raised an eyebrow at him.
“Captain,” Timothy added, rolling his eyes only when the captain turned away to survey the island.
The man walked towards the forest, a frown on his face. He went up to a few trees, running his hands around the trunk before moving on to the next tree. Vaguely, Timothy wondered if too much sea water had muddled the man’s brains.
When he was finally finished inspecting the trees for god knows what, the captain turned back to Timothy with a big grin. Yep, definitely muddled.
“Today’s a good day, Timmy,” the captain exclaimed.
Timothy’s mouth gaped. Of course, of course it was a good day since they had narrowly escaped a watery grave only to be stranded on a godforsaken island. Never had there been a better day.
The Captain chuckled as he walked closer, urging Timothy’s mouth closed with one finger under his chin.
“Call me Drake.”
Timothy frowned. “O-kay? Captain Drake-”
The captain shook his head vigorously. “Just Drake. And I’ll call you Timothy in return.”
Timothy pulled away from his hands, ignoring the tingling where the captain had touched him. “So now you remember my name.”
Drake shrugged. “I like Timmy but if you insist, I’ll call you Timothy.”
Timothy threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m not insisting-”
“Alright, alright, I’ll go back to calling you Timmy. You should have told me you like me calling you by your pet name.”
“I’m not your pet!” Timothy screeched, knowing for sure the captain had gone nuts. No, make that Drake. If Drake was going to call him by a pet name, Timothy was perfectly entitled to call the man a pet name too. They were no longer on his ship so right here on this island Timothy and Drake were equals.
“But you’re so cute and prickly like an angry little kitten,” Drake cooed.
Timothy lost it, going for Drake with his fists drawn back. Drake used his momentum to turn Timothy’s body against him, coming up flush behind him and holding his hands immobile in front of him. Timothy struggled but Drake only tightened his hands.
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, little Timmy,” Drake whispered in Timothy’s ear, his hot breath making him shiver. “When you bite, I bite back. And I take my blood twofold.”
Timothy could have sworn he felt the quick flick of Drake’s tongue against the lobe of his ear but before he could react, Drake pushed him forward and away. Timothy stumbled, kicking sand everywhere with his feet but he managed to stay upright. He glared at Drake who just grinned back at him.
“Do you think there is any food around here?” Timothy asked for the lack of anything better to say as he looked around.
Drake had a cryptic look on his face as he answered. “Let me just look around. Why don’t you stay here and gather some driftwood for fire?”
Timothy narrowed his eyes at the captain. Why did he feel like Drake was looking suspicious? Before he could put a finger on it, Drake took off into the forest. Shrugging off a feeling of helplessness, Timothy bit back the cry to tell him to stay or to at least let him come along. Growling in disgust, mostly at himself and a little at Drake, he went about trying to gather something to make a fire with.
He found some twigs and dry wood that must have washed ashore from other wrecks and formed a small, tight circle to begin his fire. Trying not to despair over what had probably happened to those men on the ship; he gathered two rocks and tried to spark a fire. Within a few minutes, he had a small fire going. After feeding it with some dry palm leaves, he sat down and held his clothes away from his body to better dry it. He was so engrossed on his task; he almost didn’t notice the long shadow that came to tower over him so menacingly.
Timothy jerked around and saw to his astonishment two bottles of dark brown liquid and a loaf of hardened bread, cheese, and dried meat.
“Where the bloody hell did you get that?”
Drake plopped down beside Timothy, passing him a bottle and half of the crusty bread. Timothy bit into it with relish, savoring the stale taste. He grabbed up the dried meat and cheese from the Captain’s hand and gobbled them down too. The big mouthful threatened to choke him. Drake quickly thumped Timothy’s back, almost sending him into the fire. Shoving Drake’s hand away, Timothy quickly uncorked his bottle with his teeth and took a gulp. Instantly regretting it, he spluttered as the fiery liquid struggled down his parched throat.
“This tastes like horse piss!” he choked out. He took another swig, making Drake laugh.
“This island is a pirate’s cache and that is the finest rum on this side of the ocean,” Drake mumbled around a mouthful of bread and rum.
“A cache? Is that why you were knocking on the trees? Looking for some sort of symbol?” Drake nodded, leaning back on his elbows in a half reclining position. Hesitating for only a few minutes, Timothy copied his pose. A warm glow suffused his body and it wasn’t from the fire. Chasing that feeling down with another mouthful of the rum, he watched the flicker of the fire licking up at the graying sky.
Drake glanced over at Timothy in amusement. The boy couldn’t hold his liquor worth a damn. Only a quarter of his bottle was depleted and Timothy was already garbling out a verse of “Oh, My Plump Maiden”.
“Yo, ho kiss a foolish lad, a sailor to behold … got meself a plump gal, jumping on me rod!”
Drake stifled a chuckle at the grossly incorrect lyrics. It’s was a bit cute the way he sang off key an hit the high notes with an ear shattering tenor.
He reached over and plucked the bottle from his loose grasp. “I think you’ve had enough, Timmy.”
“Nooooo…I need that…its making my rod rise!” Timothy reached over his body, draping himself half over him in his quest to get the bottle. Drake grinned and hid the bottle behind his back. Timothy looked down at him, bright glassy eyes that couldn’t decide whether they were green or blue blinking rapidly. “Where’d it go?”
Drake couldn’t answer because Timothy had turned his body so that he was fully lying on top of his body, his hands stacked under his chin as he gazed down at him. Moving carefully, Drake slid his arms around the boy’s hips but Timothy merely snuggled further into his body.
“My rod’s still hard,” Timothy stated, making Drake groan. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to give such a novice hardcore liquor.
“I can feel it,” Drake choked out. Timothy’s “rod” was pressing quite insistently right against his own rising cock. He groaned when Timothy swiveled his hips, rubbing his length up against his. Drake gripped the boy’s hips hard, momentarily stopping his sensuous movements. He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard for someone in his life, both men and women included.
“Do you like it?” Timothy asked innocently. “I’ve seen the other men go in and out of your room and you seem to like theirs a lot. I’ve certainly cleaned up after you a lot,” he grumbled despondently.
A hot blush crept up Drake’s face even though he’d never been particularly shamed by his blatant proclivities.
Timothy patted his cheek, although they felt more like slaps. “It’s okay, you don’t have to blush. I bet it feels good, yeah?”
Drake could nod dumbly. “Damn good, you want to know how it feels?” He had never claimed to be a good man, and he wouldn’t be a very good pirate if he passed up a prime piece of virgin ass. He had watched and lusted after the boy ever since he’d seen him. He pushed and prodded at his very proper sensibilities, trying to get any opening he could exploit but at this very moment however, Timothy himself was tying himself up in a pretty bow and handing himself on a platter.
“I’ve only ever kissed a girl but I’ve seen men…you know” Timothy’s voice dropped down to a whisper.
Drake stifled a laugh, fighting hard not to smile. “Fucked, screwed, boinked, buggered?”
“Shush!” Timothy placed a hand over his mouth, looking around at the darkened beach like a stately matron might come upon them at any moment and wave a fan at them in shock. “Someone might hear.”
“Then we’ll just have to be quiet won’t we?” Grinning devilishly, Drake flipped Timothy over until the boy was underneath him. Before he could utter a protest, Drake swooped down and took the boy’s lips.
Timothy gasped, unwittingly allowing him entry into his mouth. Drake snaked his tongue inside his mouth, sliding his tongue against Timothy’s. The boy shyly kissed him back, chasing Drake’s tongue back into his mouth. Drake bit his plump lower lip, eliciting a keening moan. Grinning, he made his way down Timothy’s neck, licking up the salty and sweet taste. He flicked his tongue against a tense area, slowly coaxing him back to relaxation.
His hands were taking a journey of their own, mapping the sharp angles of the younger man’s hips to his flat stomach, rubbing at his prominent ribs. Timothy sighed, giving himself up to his Captain. Drake impatiently pushed up his shirt, exposing that pale chest and pink nipple to this gaze. They puckered tight in the night air. Drake flicked at a protruding nub, then caught just the tip and lapped at it.
Timothy’s hands flew to his head; his finger’s tangling in the black strands. He alternately fisted and released his fingers, as if he couldn’t decide whether to press him closer or to pull him away. He finally kept his hands fisted in the silky strands but didn’t pull Drake away from his throbbing nipple, which seemed to send shockwaves across his whole body.
Drake grinned around the small nub and continued to suck. Timmy keened, his moans growing louder and louder. The cries were so sweet, Drake decided to reward him. Moving his mouth down and leaving wet, biting kisses down Timothy’s smooth and hairless torso, Drake moved ever closer to his straining length. It took only a few tugs and pulls to release Timothy’s penis from his trousers and Drake gripped the hot length. His mouth was just above Timothy’s pelvis when he heard one sound he never should hear at a time like this.
A snore. A small, barely there snore, but a snore never the less.
Incredulous, Drake looked up and saw that Timothy had fallen asleep, a smile tipping his pink lips into an enticing curve. His penis began to soften in the Captain’s hand, too. Groaning in unfulfilled desire, Drake tucked the beautiful cock back into the boy’s dirty trousers and tugged down his shirt.
His own cock on the other hand was throbbing like mad, threatening to burst out of his breeches. Briefly considering bringing his own hands to relive the ache, he shook his head to clear the urge. Even if he climaxed, the desire to take Timothy wouldn’t go away. If he came, it would be buried deep inside of his cabin boy’s ass.
Sighing in resignation, he turned Timothy on his side to face the fire. Then he curved his own body behind his slighter body, wrapping his arms around him. If Timothy woke in the morning and didn’t remember his advances, then he’d just say it was for warmth.
Timothy mumbled something before turning abruptly and shoving his face under Drake’s chin. He threw a leg over Drake’s hips, using his chest as a pillow and fell into a contented sleep. The only thing left to do for Drake was to hold him tight and go to sleep himself. Even so, he went to sleep with a calculating smile, dreaming of ways to seduce his boy into actual sex without him falling asleep.
There was a wet puddle beneath his cheek.
Still groggy with sleep, Timothy carefully lifted his head. A line of saliva connected his lips to the small puddle of spittle on his pillow. Timothy blinked. A pillow that was clothed, moving up and down and wafting soothing warmth. Gulping hard, he lifted his head and saw the captain-no, Drake-smirking down at him.
“I slept on you,” he said obviously.
“You also drooled on me but I’ll overlook that little fact.”
“I’ll be getting off you now,” Timothy mumbled as he frantically scrambled away from Drake to put a safe distance between the two. He wracked his brain, trying to think of a reason why he should be waking up in the captain’s embrace when…
Oh, god, he’d kissed him. He’d actually gone and kissed the pirate. His face must have given away his thoughts because the cursed man started laughing.
“Oh, don’t look like an outraged little girl. Your virtue is still intact,” Drake teased.
The embarrassing heat suffusing his cheeks made it hard to lift his head; Timothy had to make sure nothing like the shameful thing last night happened again. “It’s not that!” he said hotly “It’s that you kissed me! A man! I-I don’t-men don’t k-kiss each other. It’s wrong!”
Suddenly, Drake’s hand shot out and pulled Timothy close by his shirt until they were nose to nose.
“Wrong?” Drake snarled, scowling at the delusional boy. “Why is it wrong? Because some religious prick told you kissing men is wrong? What gave them the authority to dictate how you live, hmm? Who you kiss has nothing to do with anyone other than the people doing the kissing, or anything else. I say it’s right. But don’t listen to me, or those other people. Listen to yourself.”
Drake shoved him back, and Timothy fell on his ass in the sand. Drake got up, sending him one last look of disgust before walking into the forest.
“Wait, where are you going?” Timothy called out but the other man ignored him. Biting his lips, Timothy figured he was probably going to find a place to take care of his morning business. Speaking of morning business…
Timothy found a secluded spot not far from their camp and whipped his cock out. He blushed, the hazy memory of the captain’s hands gripping his length and him lying there like a wanton, immoral slut begging for more. But as he pissed a long stream of yellow liquid, he thought about the captain words. He didn’t want to like men, had been told from a young age it was wrong. But what if it wasn’t? He was so tired of feeling guilty every time he jerked off to the thought of two men having sex. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to think of a woman’s breasts when he jerked off but that had just resulted in a withered cock.
Shaking the tip of his cock, he tucked it back into his pants. Walking back onto the beach and to the edge of the shore, she washed his hands in the cool water. Drake was already sitting by the dead fire, looking out to the sea.
Kicking sand as he walked towards Drake, he thought out anything he could say to get back the camaraderie they’d shared last night. He’d just say that he hadn’t meant any insult and that he’d… To hell with it, he’d just make it up as he talked.
“Um, I didn’t think- I-Its-shit, I mean-”
Drake laughed as Timothy continued to splutter for something to say. “Shut up before you knot your tongue, boy.”
Timothy frowned but did as the captain told him, just a little bit grateful for his intervention. “So, uh, is there more food?” His belly rumbled in hunger.
Drake nodded to a small bundle beside him. Taking the seat next to him, Timothy grabbed up the cloth and rooted round for whatever stale and musty food he could find. If anything the hard bread and cheese tasted better than last night. When a dirty bottle of rum was shoved under his nose, he looked at warily. Looking at Drake with suspicious eyes, he gingerly took the bottle by its neck and tried to avoid touching the other man’s fingers. Last time he’d drank, he’d been kissing other men.
And he did not want that to happen.
Of course not.
Even if his pulse did beat a bit faster at the thought and his palms grew sweaty…no, no, no he definitely did not want to kiss the captain again.
“I’m not going to jump you if you get drunk again. If I remember correctly, it was you who kissed me,” Drake smirked.
Blushing furiously, Timothy took a large gulp of the rum, momentary forgetting the burn that accompanied. Spluttering as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, he coughed and gagged. Drake thumped his back, almost dislocating his shoulder. Slapping the captain’s hands away, Timothy gasped in the clean ocean air. After he’d gotten his wind back in his sails, he peered back at Drake to see if he’d be teased again. But Drake just looked at him curiously.
“Did you at least enjoy the kiss?”
That was a really stupid question; of course he’d enjoyed Drake’s kisses even knowing he shouldn’t. If he dared to admit it to himself, he’d even felt regretful in the morning that it hadn’t gone farther. Drake must have seen the conflicting emotions because he smiled gently.
“You know, it is okay to enjoy them,” Drake whispered huskily against his ear, his arm now around Timothy’s narrow shoulder.
“We’re all alone here on this island, no one has to know,” Drake’s hot breath wafted sensuously against Timothy’s neck, making his shiver despite the bright sun high in the sky.
Telling himself he was trying to push Drake away, Timothy brought up his hands against Drake’s solid chest and pushed. But the bigger man wouldn’t be bulged he began to nuzzle in to Timothy’s neck. Stifling a helpless moan, Timothy bit his lip and unconsciously tipped his head back to allow the captain greater access to his neck.
“Ugh,” Timothy moaned, and then moaned again because he’d meant to say no.
“Just think,” Drake continued his hot kisses up his jaw and across his cheek “You…under me…or your dick in my mouth.”
Timothy yelped, his cock jumping in a happy dance at the thought of the captain’s thin pink lips wrapped around his cock, his chocolate brown eyes looking up at Timothy.
“Yes,” Timothy moaned. Oh, no there went another word out of his mouth that had originally started out as a no in his brain. What was wrong with him?
But then no one would know. For once he’d get to experience all those things he always fantasized about.
“Damn, Captain, you sure don’t waste time.”
Gasping, Timothy shoved Drake away from him and looked up to see the ship’s gunner and first mate grinning down at them. It was the gunner Blair who’d spoken.
“Thought you fucked him last night for sure,” Jason snickered.
Drake got up on his feet, brushing sand away from his clothes absently as he scowled at his men. He turned back to Timothy and held a hand out to him. Refusing to look into the other man’s eye, Timothy got up without help and turned a glare on the other smiling men.
“Son of a bitch, Blair, I told you not to bother me until you flagged down a ship!” Drake looked like he was about to punch the tall, dark haired man. The gunner stood a few inches taller than Drake, although he was packed with muscle.
“We saw a ship, Captain. Sent out a signal and it’s on its way. I suggest we get ready for the men coming,” Jason informed all business now.
Timothy tuned it all out as he realized that the captain had lied to him. He must have seen his men the night before, and he hadn’t told Timothy. Just a few minutes away he’d insinuated that they were the only ones here on this island, partly while he’d been worrying about these very men, the captain had been bragging to them about how he was fucking the naive and gullible Timothy.
Without thought, Timothy pushed at the captain’s broad back. “Fuck you!”
The charming lover of a few minutes was gone as the Drake turned to him with cold eyes. Gulping back further words with great effort, Timothy took a step back and glared daggers at the taller man.
“As of now, I am your Captain and you will show me the due respect of my position, cabin boy. Any complaints, talk to me in private once I’m back on a ship. Understand?” Drake’s barely leashed growl reminded Timothy why this man was the scourge of the sea.
He was a low down, no good pirate who’d sent numerous men to their watery grave. For one moment, Timothy had thought to touch a gentler, more vulnerable side of him but that just been a dream. A delusion he created from the captain’s seductive lies. Stiffening up his spine, Timothy nodded.
Jason and Blair led them to the other side of the island where a few men were waiting on the shore, looking off to a small boat slowly rowing out to them. Timothy took stock of the surviving men and saw more than half of the crew alive, bedraggled and tired looking, but alive all the same. They greeted their captain with a jolly welcome, sending Timothy sly glances. The fat old cook leered and even reached out a hand to pinch Timothy’s butt cheek. Yelping, he’d made to punch the fat bastard but Drake stopped his fist midair.
He frowned but said nothing. Then he went about directing his men and Timothy saw that more than a few of them were hiding anything that could be used as a weapon. A piece of driftwood, clubs, and some even had knives. Jason handed the captain a pair of pistols, holstering another identical pair in the back of his trousers.
Drake took him aside and told him to stay out of the way, behind the wall of his men. Timothy gave him a stiff nod and like the good little boy he was, he stayed at the back. The plan was fairly simple. Get aboard the ship, go all guns ho and take the small merchant’s ship. They needed a few men so Drake decided to give them a chance to either join his crew or take their chances on the island. The island saw a lot of traffic so it wouldn’t be like he was sending them to their deaths.
Four men came off the small row boat. Timothy looked on with resentment as Drake turned on his charm on the suspicious men. Soon they were laughing and offering the captain a drink to drown his woes at losing his ship. Drake took a few of his officers and Timothy on the first row boat, then waiting on the deck of the ship talking to the captain while two more row boats were sent out to retrieve the rest of his men.
Timothy found out that the portly captain laughing jovially with Drake wasn’t a respectable merchant like he’d thought but a smuggler. The greedy glint in Drake’s eyes could be seen a mile away when he was told of the smuggled silk and poppy in the cargo.
As soon as the other pirates were on the ship, Timothy saw them taking strategic positions across the deck of the ship. Though they were outnumbered two to one, they had the element of surprise. Drake jerked his head at him and Timothy fell back.
All in all, it didn’t them too long to capture the ship. With one subtle wave signal from Drake’s hand, the deck was swarmed by battling men. One of the smugglers spotted Timothy and came at him with a small knife. Snarling, Timothy used the man’s momentum and slammed him against the ship’s hold. Battling the knife away from the man, he brought the wooden handle down on the man’s bald head viscously. He looked up just in time to see Drake fighting with three men. He seemed to be holding his own, using his bare hands against the weapon yielding smugglers.
A vicious punch brought one of the smugglers down but another jumped on Drake’s back and tried to choke him while another took the opportunity to stab Drake in the chest. Grunting, Drake punched the man right in the face but another took the smuggler’s place and charged at Drake. Drake was too busy swinging the man hanging from his neck and punching him to notice the smuggler.
Fear pulsed through his veins; Timothy ran at the smuggler and tackled him to the deck. He jumped away just in time to avoid getting his jugular cut. Kicking the man in the ribs, he yelped when his bare feet met with the smuggler’s hard ribs. The smuggler’s hand swiped out and brought him down hard on his back, his head hitting the hard wood with a sickening crunch.
The smuggler was on him in second, delivering a hard punch to his face. His lip split under the pressure and blood spurted across the deck. Seeing stars, Timothy blinked, and held his hands over his head in a protective motion. The knife was knocked out of his hand, flying a few feet away from him. Kicking the smuggler off of him, he turned on his stomach and scrabbled to get the knife back. Looking back frantically, he saw the smuggler grin evilly and advance towards him with a wickedly sharp knife. Timothy scrunched his eyes closed and waited for the death blow, berating himself for coming to the Captain’s rescue. The man had lied to him, almost seduced him but he still had to go and care if the man lived or not. No matter what Drake had done, Timothy replayed those sweet, hot kisses in his mind; he braced himself for the killing blow.
But it never came. Timothy snapped open his eyes and saw Drake standing above him, a murderous expression on his face as he skewered the smuggler with a stolen sword. Drake reached down and picked Timothy up, shoving the boy behind his broad back. A few minutes later the ship was theirs.
The pirate crew let up great cheers, already shouting about the alcohol and women they wanted to consume in the name of their victory. The rest of the surviving smugglers were tied up as Drake took inventory of the dead and wounded men. Two had died, and five were greatly wounded. The rest of the men only had superficial wounds that were not as grave.
Only about half of the surviving smugglers decided to join the pirate crew when given the choice. The rest, including their portly captain jumped ship and swam to the island, bringing down curses upon curses on Drake’s black heart.
Drake quickly got Timothy settled in the captain’s quarters, which were richly lavished with a great bed incongruous for a life on the sea. Drake shut him inside the room to go get his men situated, telling him he would come back with food. Timothy sat on the edge of bed, looking at the closed door.
He had almost died. And no one would have cared. Well, maybe the captain. He had looked very angry when he’d attacked Timothy’s assailant. And he’d been so gentle when he led Timothy into the room, careful of his bruises and cuts. Maybe Drake would care if Timothy had died. His family certainly hadn’t cared about him and he’d never even known his mother. Drake’s gentle touch as he’d washed Timothy’s small cuts had certainly said he cared for Timothy. He was still staring at the door blankly when it opened an hour later and Drake came in with the promised food.
“I brought food,” Drake said needlessly.
That seemed to snap Timothy out of his coma like state and he glanced up at Drake, blinking at him like Timothy was seeing him for the first time. Then before Drake knew it, Timothy launched himself at the Captain’s arms and kissed him. Timothy tasted blood but he didn’t care. He could have died and the only person to care would have been Drake. He wasn’t drunk and he wasn’t under his blankets in the dead of the night imagining a man on top of him with his hand wrapped around his penis. He wanted this; he finally admitted that to himself.
But in the face of his sudden submission, Drake pulled away, confused.
“Are you drunk?” Drake accused, but he didn’t let go of the hold he had on Timothy’s hips.
“No,” Timothy denied, chasing Drake’s lips again.
“I’m over it.” Dammit, now that he’d decided to be debauched, why did Drake have to turn into a Talky Tommy.
“Are you sure?” Drake pressed, letting Timothy reach his chin and press an ardent kiss to dimple there.
Nodding, Timothy reached up on his tip toes and pressed his mouth to Drake’s. “Kiss me.”
“Is that an order? To your Captain?” Drake pushed Timothy back on the bed, shrugging his shirt off his broad shoulders. Timothy landed on his elbows, watching the captain strip in avid attention.
“Take it however you like. Order, command, plea. Just come fuck me and we’ll fight after.”
Drake chuckled, finally shucking his trousers and stood before Timothy in all his naked glory. Timothy gaped. Drake’s thick cock saluted him, the purpled head bobbing with the captain’s movements as he crawled atop Timothy.
“You’re going to stick that-that thing inside me?” Timothy squeaked.
Drake shrugged. “You kissed me.”
“I didn’t know you had a ten foot snake hiding in your pants,” Timothy accused.
Preening, Drake just took a hold of Timothy’s pants and tugged them down his hips. Before Timothy could protest, Drake dropped his head over Timothy’s lap and swallowed down his cock. Drake buried his nose in Timothy’s dark pubic hair, inhaling the strong musky scent.
Timothy choked on a moan, his fists clenching in the sheets beneath him. This was much better than his hand. His dick felt like it was being burned off by Drake’s wet, soft mouth. Humming around Timothy’s length, Drake bobbed his head up and down, letting his tongue caress the throbbing veins under Timothy’s pretty dick. Using the saliva and pre cum running down Timothy’s dick, he coated his fingers with the natural slick and moved them down under Timothy’s balls. Teasing the tight, puckered hole with his finger, he quickly speared Timothy’s ass with a finger. The boy ached up into his mouth, his hands grabbing Drake’s hair.
It burned a bit, but Drake allowed Timothy’s body to adjust to the foreign invasion. Curling his fingers, Drake searched out that special spot that he knew would make Timothy go crazy. He smiled around Timothy’s cock when the boy jerked his hips up and shoved his cock down Drake’s throat when Drake rubbed across his prostrate. Twisting his fingers in and out, Drake chuckled darkly as he created a tight suction around Timothy’s shaft.
Timothy knew he wasn’t going to last long and in an embarrassingly quick manner; he shot up his hips and came in great bursts into Drake’s mouth. The finger inside his ass kept on thrusting, always hitting a very sensitive and pleasurable spot inside. He didn’t even know he was capable of this kind of pleasure; he damn well should have been informed what pleasures his body was capable of earlier. His whole body vibrated as he slowly came down from his climax, his limbs sweaty and weak. Drake swallowed down all of Timothy’s semen and pulled off.
Licking the remnants of Timothy’s salty taste off his lips, Drake twisted his finger inside of Timothy, adding another finger when the boy began to keen for more. It burned and it felt a bit strange but Timothy decided he liked it. He liked Drake’s fingers up his ass. Oh, if only his family could see him now. But they didn’t matter; only Drake did. He grunted when Drake’s finger probed insistently at that particular spot again and he almost flew off the bed. Drake’s amused snicker sounded around the room and he continued to rub against that wonderful, wonderful spot. The diabolical man added another finger, then another.
“Shhh,” Drake crooned against Timothy’s hip “You can take me, you can take more Timmy.”
“Oh, fuck, I need more! I need your cock!” Timothy screamed, the pleasure almost too much.
Drake reared up on his knees and took his talented fingers away, causing Timothy to moan in protest. Drake took the neckline of Timothy’s shirt in two hands and ripped down the middle. Timothy didn’t mind, in fact he helped Drake shove the tatters off his body completely.
“I want to see your face,” Timothy said as he reached up for hold Drake’s jaw in his hand, leaning up to kiss him.
Drake nodded, already getting into place. He let his dick rub against Timothy’s, waiting for the sensitive shaft to thicken again. God, but it felt so good. Timothy ran his hands down Drake’s hairy chest, combing his fingers through the curly hair. His lover’s skin was hot to the touch. Drake was built so much differently that Timothy, more solidly build, more hairy but Timothy found he liked it.
Drake guided his cock into Timothy’s wet and loosened hole, pressing his spongy cockhead against the tight opening. The heat engulfing his cock was almost unbearable and he groaned. Timothy pulled Drake down on top of him, kissing the side of his neck as Drake pressed in further. It hurt greater than before with Drake’s fingers. His body tensed but that just made the burning worse.
“Relax, let me in. C’mon, beautiful,” Drake whispered against Timothy’s damp and flushed skin. Timothy objected to being called beautiful-he was not beautiful- but he was more than happy to take a loving Drake. Forcing his body to become lax, he felt Drake’s cock slide easier into his body.
Once Drake made sure Timothy was alright, he slowly began to thrust. Timothy ran his hands down Drake’s back to his pumping hips, digging his nails into the other man’s muscular buttocks. The bite of pain urged Drake to thrust faster, his cock hitting that special spot inside Timothy that made him see stars.
Timothy licked across Drake’s clavicle, lapping up his salty and delicious sweat. Trailing kisses down his pectoral, Timothy latched onto Drake’s nipple and suckled. Drake growled above him, his hips setting a bruising pace and snapping against Timothy’s ass. The sounds of their flesh slapping together, the wet and dirty sounds of Drakes dick plunging in and out of Timothy’s needy body was driving him closer and closer to his completion. Timothy’s cock was smashed against their stomachs, the friction from Drake’s ridged abs teasing his weeping length.
With a scream, Timothy came in torrents all over his and Drake’s stomach. Drake followed not much later than that, flooding Timothy’s ass with his cum. He kept moving his hips, pushing and keeping his cum inside of Timothy. Exhausted, he finally collapsed on top of Timothy, who spread his legs and cradled the captain’s body.
“I want you to become my lover,” Drake said, panting for breath. He was probably crushing Timothy but when he made to get up, Timothy used his legs to hold him down.
“Okay.” Timothy smiled coquettishly as he looked up at his lover. “But no other men…or women,” Timothy added as an afterthought, shifting his fingers through Drake’s soft hair. He didn’t know what this thing with Drake was but he knew enough to know he wanted to keep it. The sex was phenomenal but the man himself was amazing and Timothy wanted to get to know his lover on a deeper level. For weeks now, he’d been toeing around his crush for the older man and it finally hit Timothy that he needed Drake.
“Now that I have you, I’d never go looking for another piece of ass,” Drake promised sincerely and Timothy believed him. “Besides, the fact that I’ve fallen in love with you kind of guarantees I’ll want no one but you,” Drake mumbled the last part into the pillow beside Timothy’s head.
Timothy started at Drake’s shocking declaration, but before he could say anything, Drake put his finger to Timothy’s lips.
Looking down at his handsome lover, Drake almost looked bashful. Timothy felt his heart melt to let Drake in.
“You-You don’t have to say anything. I know I’ve been an ass but give me the opportunity to prove it to you otherwise. Let me show you I’m worth loving,” Drake growled, commanding Timothy.
Drake groaned and ducked head. “Long enough that I was actually a bit grateful for the ship wreck and an opportunity to get you alone.”
Timothy arched a brow. “We weren’t alone.”
“But you thought we were. And you finally let your guard down enough to kiss me, and now this.” Drake’s eyes bore down into Timothy’s. “I’m never letting you go.”
Smiling, Timothy pulled him down for a kiss. He wouldn’t have his captain any other way than the charming, arrogant, and loving ass that he was. He suspected he was already half way in love with the older man. But that didn’t mean Timothy wouldn’t like a bit of wooing before he gave in. With that thought, he pushed Drake’s head down his chest to his once again aching length.
“Ah, the wonders of the young and horny.” Grinning up at him, Drake kissed his way down Timothy’s trembling abdomen.
“Shut up and suck my cock,” Timothy growled. He groaned when Drake raised his lips from his skin and raised a brow at him. Smirking, Timothy added “Captain.”
“Much better, Timmy,” Drake grinned mischievously.
“Shut up and suck me. I’ll ride your rod after,” Timothy promised blushingly. Drake winked up at him and without warning, sucked Timothy’s wet, semen covered prick back into his mouth. Timothy threw his head back, more than ready for a lifetime spent on the seas underneath his captain.