A Pirate's Life for Me
May. 1st, 2016 05:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i_am_tl_drTitle: A Pirate's Life for Me
Characters: Quentin Graham, Tyler Jordan Graham
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2370
Notes: Again with the writing out of order... the boys got a new apartment! This happens in the new apartment. Not that that's terribly important, but. Also the title is super lame. Whatever. I saw this inspection kink thing on Tumblr and Tyler Jordan perked up immediately. The boy knows what he likes...
Timeline: May 2016
Of the two of them, Quentin was the actor, but they were both performers and Tyler Jordan had a flair for the dramatic himself, and any excuse to get dressed up was a good one. Coming up with a scene that gave him a reason to break out his Renaissance Faire clothes that also played into Quentin’s possessive streak had them both eager to play together. The day they chose to do it, they texted each other all day long to get ready for it, little scene-setting details, keeping each other entertained while Tyler Jordan was at work and Quentin was at class with a tale of a sea battle between a pirate ship and a whaling vessel.
As soon as Tyler Jordan came home from work he changed right into his ‘sailor’s’ outfit, a simple white shirt and a vest over brown breeches, way more basic than anything he’d actually wear to Faire, but he wasn’t going to be wearing them long. The only time he hesitated was just outside of the door of the room they’d turned into a combined studio and office, and that brief hesitation was just to get into character, putting on a veneer of nervousness over his excitement. He tapped on the door.
“Enter.” Tyler Jordan slipped into the room and his eyes widened at the sight of Quentin in pirate finery, sprawled across the leather desk chair like it was a throne. The clothes suited him almost too well, tight leather pants and boots to the knee, a striped shirt loosely laced to leave Quentin’s hirsute chest on display, a bandanna keeping his long hair back from his face. Quentin arched an eyebrow imperiously and Tyler Jordan bit the inside of his cheek. Haughty looked so good on Quentin’s serious features.
“You called for me?”
“I did.” Quentin beckoned him closer with a finger and Tyler Jordan took a couple of steps into the room. “You were an officer on the whaling ship we just took?”
“Yes, sir. Second mate.”
“The highest ranking survivor, then. Not many of you surrendered.”
“We had a lot to fight for.”
“I’ve become aware of that. Quite a hold. Whales think they’re at the top of the food chain until the whalers show up, and the whalers think they’re there until the pirates show up. I believe that makes me the apex predator.” Tyler Jordan had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at their running joke, and Quentin smirked at him. “Do you know what happens to sailors who surrender to pirates?”
“They get to live,” Tyler Jordan said, and Quentin made a ‘go on’ motion. “They become pirates?”
“The lucky ones do,” Quentin said. “The unlucky ones get sold on the islands.”
“Am I one of the lucky ones?”
“I have a notion of the purpose I’d like to put you to, and it doesn’t involve putting a sword in your hand,” Quentin said, giving him a lingering head to toe look. “I’m not entirely sure you’d be suited for it, though.”
“I’m very adaptable,” Tyler Jordan said. “I take orders well. Try me.”
“With pleasure,” Quentin purred, sitting back and steepling his fingers. “Take off your clothes and come here.” Tyler Jordan took a step closer as he shed the vest and shirt, one more as he unlaced his breeches, and stopped just out of Quentin’s reach as he stepped out of them. Quentin laced his fingers together to keep himself from reaching out for him, but he licked his lips as his eyes caressed Tyler Jordan’s body. “You might do,” he said carelessly, and Tyler Jordan squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, waiting for Quentin to meet his eyes. Quentin was a great actor, but the truth lived in his eyes, and right now they were heavy-lidded with lust and bright with mischief. “You’re quite handsome. Do you know what happened to the last handsome whaler we captured?”
“He became the captain,” Tyler Jordan guessed, and Quentin grinned.
“I’ve never been anything but a pirate.” He shook his head. “No. The last handsome whaler turned out to be unsuitable for my purposes, and he got passed around the crew like a port whore.” Tyler Jordan gasped, and Quentin finally reached out to touch him, pulling him closer with a hand on his hip. “You, though… you’re much closer to my taste. And I don’t share what’s mine.”
“What do I have to do to be yours, then?”
“For starters, the back of you has to be as nice as the front of you.” Tyler Jordan went to turn around, and Quentin pinched his hip. “And you have to take direction well. Bend over the desk.” Tyler Jordan did as he was told, resisting the urge to glance back over his shoulder, and rested his head on his crossed arms. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but the gentle touch Quentin gave him was a surprise, fingertips tracing down the line of his spine and pausing at the small of his back. “Oh, yes. This might be an even better view of you, in fact. I think this might be my favorite way to look at you, I’ll have you across this desk at least once a day.”
“Only once?” Tyler Jordan asked, expecting to be spanked for insolence. Instead, Quentin stopped touching him at all, though Tyler Jordan could feel the warm breath of his laughter against exposed skin, so he hadn’t gone far at all.
“Once on the desk, once in my bed, and once right up against the mast so the whole crew can see what they’re missing out on.” Tyler Jordan whimpered at the thought of Quentin taking him in front of a crowd, and Quentin squeezed his ass and then let go of him again. “Hold yourself open for me, I want a good look at you.” Tyler Jordan shivered as he moved to obey, dizzy with arousal knowing that he was putting himself on display for Quentin’s close inspection. “Good, stay just like that.” He could feel Quentin’s breath on the back of one thigh, and then Quentin flirted a fingertip down Tyler Jordan’s cleft, grazing over sensitive skin and then gone an instant later. “How charming. Such a pretty little hole, and it’s all mine now.”
“What--” Tyler Jordan’s voice failed him on a gasp when Quentin blew a cool stream of breath right there, and he had to try again. “What are you going to do with it?”
“So many things. Anything I like, whenever I care to do it. But first…” Quentin rested a damp fingertip against Tyler Jordan’s entrance, not pressing, just present. “First, I’m going to make it crave me. I’m going to teach you the meaning of need, until you’re begging me to fill you up, and if you beg prettily enough I’ll give you every inch of my cock and show you who you belong to.” Tyler Jordan moaned, tilting his hips and whining when Quentin’s touch withdrew again. “Do you want it already, pretty boy? I’ve barely begun.”
“Do what you want with me,” Tyler Jordan said, “I can take it.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that you can. But I’m doing exactly what I want with you right now.” Tyler Jordan thought he’d lose his mind from the teasing touches, a single fingertip tracing between his cheeks and drawing circles over his hole before brushing down his perineum. “Don’t let go,” Quentin said, and Tyler Jordan got a better grip on himself that he almost lost immediately when Quentin’s tongue followed the path his finger had taken, then blew against the damp skin and made Tyler Jordan quiver. “You make such a pretty picture like this, you have no idea,” Quentin purred, and he touched the same path with a little more pressure, humming with satisfaction when Tyler Jordan’s body yielded slightly around his fingertip.
“Please,” Tyler Jordan breathed, hips canting back, trying to get more. “Please, Quentin.” That earned him a gentle slap on one buttcheek.
“That’s captain to you,” Quentin laughed, and Tyler Jordan moved one foot to catch at Quentin’s ankle.
“Please, captain, let me have it. Make me yours.”
“You want me to rush? I’m enjoying savoring you.” Quentin licked him again, tongue drawing a spiral over his entrance before pressing in. “Mm, you taste like a hardworking man. There’s nothing better than turning a strong man into a begging boy, especially one so pretty as you.” He spent a couple of minutes licking Tyler Jordan to the sound of his whimpers before he scattered a few kisses over Tyler Jordan’s exposed skin, where his ass met his thighs and on the backs of his balls, which were already drawn high against his body. Hand stealing between his legs, Quentin took hold of Tyler Jordan’s cock and dragged his thumb over the wet head. “Oh, you do want it, don’t you?”
“Yes. So much. Ravish me, run me through, put me in my place…” Tyler Jordan reached back to tangle his hand in Quentin’s hair and Quentin nipped at his wrist. “Take me. Please. I need you.”
“How can I resist a plea like that?” This time when Quentin’s tongue pressed against Tyler Jordan’s hole, it was followed by a slick finger slowly sinking into him, then another pressing in alongside the first. “Put your hands on the edge of the desk,” Quentin said, and when Tyler Jordan obeyed he was rewarded with the tip of Quentin’s cock teasing at him. “Who do you belong to, Tyler Jordan?”
“You, I’m yours, I’m only yours!” He keened as Quentin filled him in a single thrust, and Quentin molded himself along Tyler Jordan’s back and laced their fingers together on the desk, kissing the sweat from the back of his neck.
“Love you so fucking much,” Quentin purred, nothing left of the pretense when his claim on Tyler Jordan was so real. He still didn’t rush, slowly withdrawing and thrusting in again, and Tyler Jordan melted against the desk at the perfect ache of Quentin pushing every inch into his willing body.
“Fuck, so good,” he gasped, and Quentin kissed his shoulders and his spine as he gradually picked up the pace. “Yeah, make me feel it.”
“Yeah?” The next thrust was fiercer, and Tyler Jordan moaned and arched into it. Quentin let go of his hands and gripped his hips instead, driving into him faster. Tyler Jordan reached down to take himself in hand just as Quentin found the perfect angle, and it only took a couple of thrusts against that spot inside him for Tyler Jordan to explode with a howl. Quentin didn’t pause, just fucked him through the tremors until he found his own release a scant few thrusts in Tyler Jordan’s wake, falling back into the desk chair and pulling Tyler Jordan with him still impaled. Tyler Jordan turned to kiss him, breathless and languid, and Quentin laughed against his lips. “Mm. Was that good?”
“Fucking amazing,” Tyler Jordan agreed. “Wasn’t expecting you to play so nice, I thought you’d be more violent than that.”
“This was for you more than me,” Quentin said, carding his fingers through Tyler Jordan’s hair. “Tried to keep it to your favorite things. Being watched, being teased…”
“That was so fucking hot. Holding myself so you could look at me. Knowing how close you were looking.”
“You look so good on display. I almost wanted to take a picture.”
“Yeah? You still can…” Tyler Jordan leaned forward on the desk, reaching back to splay his cheeks again, and he heard Quentin inhale sharply.
“God, look at you.” He felt Quentin’s fingertip graze against his sensitive hole. “All red and messy and well-fucked. Are you sore?”
“A little.” A second later he felt Quentin’s tongue there and he gasped. “Are you really--?” Quentin lapped at him gently, cleaning up the mess he’d made of his husband, and Tyler Jordan whimpered at the intimacy of it, one more thing he was surprised that Quentin wasn’t only willing but apparently eager to do. “Q, god…”
“Come here.” Quentin pulled Tyler Jordan back into his arms and nuzzled at his neck. “You’re so beautiful. In every state, from every angle. How’d I get so lucky to end up with you?”
“We both lucked out,” Tyler Jordan said, tangling his hand in Quentin’s hair. “Because we both want to make each other happy.” He leaned back slightly and grinned. “And you look hot as hell in the pirate getup. Goddamn.”
“Can I borrow it when you take me to Faire?”
“I’ll get kicked out for cutting my peace ties and fending the wenches away from you with a sword,” Tyler Jordan laughed, tugging at the loose laces of the shirt. “You can’t go out looking this good.”
“Why? You don’t get jealous,” Quentin said, holding him closer. “And it should be an ego boost to you when I tell them all that I’m entirely devoted to my wonderful husband, right?”
“You can’t have my leather pants. But you should have a pair of your own.”
“That’s fair, these don’t fit me perfectly.”
“I really just wanna take you to all the vendors and make you try everything on and buy you the most sexy, dangerous looking outfit we can put together.”
“I’m in favor of this plan. We’ll just be the hottest gay pirates anyone’s ever seen.” Quentin kissed Tyler Jordan’s neck again. “Next time can you be the pirate and I’ll be the sailor?”
“You want it, you got it.” Tyler Jordan caught him for a quick kiss on the lips, then stood up and arched his back until it popped. “That was so good, but I need a shower and something to eat and some cuddle time on the couch.”
“You take care of the first one, I’ll take care of the second two,” Quentin said, not able to resist giving Tyler Jordan a slap on the ass as he walked out of the room. He looked down at himself and decided that he should at least take a couple of selfies to tease Tyler Jordan with in the days to come before he changed out of these clothes.
Characters: Quentin Graham, Tyler Jordan Graham
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2370
Notes: Again with the writing out of order... the boys got a new apartment! This happens in the new apartment. Not that that's terribly important, but. Also the title is super lame. Whatever. I saw this inspection kink thing on Tumblr and Tyler Jordan perked up immediately. The boy knows what he likes...
Timeline: May 2016
Of the two of them, Quentin was the actor, but they were both performers and Tyler Jordan had a flair for the dramatic himself, and any excuse to get dressed up was a good one. Coming up with a scene that gave him a reason to break out his Renaissance Faire clothes that also played into Quentin’s possessive streak had them both eager to play together. The day they chose to do it, they texted each other all day long to get ready for it, little scene-setting details, keeping each other entertained while Tyler Jordan was at work and Quentin was at class with a tale of a sea battle between a pirate ship and a whaling vessel.
As soon as Tyler Jordan came home from work he changed right into his ‘sailor’s’ outfit, a simple white shirt and a vest over brown breeches, way more basic than anything he’d actually wear to Faire, but he wasn’t going to be wearing them long. The only time he hesitated was just outside of the door of the room they’d turned into a combined studio and office, and that brief hesitation was just to get into character, putting on a veneer of nervousness over his excitement. He tapped on the door.
“Enter.” Tyler Jordan slipped into the room and his eyes widened at the sight of Quentin in pirate finery, sprawled across the leather desk chair like it was a throne. The clothes suited him almost too well, tight leather pants and boots to the knee, a striped shirt loosely laced to leave Quentin’s hirsute chest on display, a bandanna keeping his long hair back from his face. Quentin arched an eyebrow imperiously and Tyler Jordan bit the inside of his cheek. Haughty looked so good on Quentin’s serious features.
“You called for me?”
“I did.” Quentin beckoned him closer with a finger and Tyler Jordan took a couple of steps into the room. “You were an officer on the whaling ship we just took?”
“Yes, sir. Second mate.”
“The highest ranking survivor, then. Not many of you surrendered.”
“We had a lot to fight for.”
“I’ve become aware of that. Quite a hold. Whales think they’re at the top of the food chain until the whalers show up, and the whalers think they’re there until the pirates show up. I believe that makes me the apex predator.” Tyler Jordan had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at their running joke, and Quentin smirked at him. “Do you know what happens to sailors who surrender to pirates?”
“They get to live,” Tyler Jordan said, and Quentin made a ‘go on’ motion. “They become pirates?”
“The lucky ones do,” Quentin said. “The unlucky ones get sold on the islands.”
“Am I one of the lucky ones?”
“I have a notion of the purpose I’d like to put you to, and it doesn’t involve putting a sword in your hand,” Quentin said, giving him a lingering head to toe look. “I’m not entirely sure you’d be suited for it, though.”
“I’m very adaptable,” Tyler Jordan said. “I take orders well. Try me.”
“With pleasure,” Quentin purred, sitting back and steepling his fingers. “Take off your clothes and come here.” Tyler Jordan took a step closer as he shed the vest and shirt, one more as he unlaced his breeches, and stopped just out of Quentin’s reach as he stepped out of them. Quentin laced his fingers together to keep himself from reaching out for him, but he licked his lips as his eyes caressed Tyler Jordan’s body. “You might do,” he said carelessly, and Tyler Jordan squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, waiting for Quentin to meet his eyes. Quentin was a great actor, but the truth lived in his eyes, and right now they were heavy-lidded with lust and bright with mischief. “You’re quite handsome. Do you know what happened to the last handsome whaler we captured?”
“He became the captain,” Tyler Jordan guessed, and Quentin grinned.
“I’ve never been anything but a pirate.” He shook his head. “No. The last handsome whaler turned out to be unsuitable for my purposes, and he got passed around the crew like a port whore.” Tyler Jordan gasped, and Quentin finally reached out to touch him, pulling him closer with a hand on his hip. “You, though… you’re much closer to my taste. And I don’t share what’s mine.”
“What do I have to do to be yours, then?”
“For starters, the back of you has to be as nice as the front of you.” Tyler Jordan went to turn around, and Quentin pinched his hip. “And you have to take direction well. Bend over the desk.” Tyler Jordan did as he was told, resisting the urge to glance back over his shoulder, and rested his head on his crossed arms. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but the gentle touch Quentin gave him was a surprise, fingertips tracing down the line of his spine and pausing at the small of his back. “Oh, yes. This might be an even better view of you, in fact. I think this might be my favorite way to look at you, I’ll have you across this desk at least once a day.”
“Only once?” Tyler Jordan asked, expecting to be spanked for insolence. Instead, Quentin stopped touching him at all, though Tyler Jordan could feel the warm breath of his laughter against exposed skin, so he hadn’t gone far at all.
“Once on the desk, once in my bed, and once right up against the mast so the whole crew can see what they’re missing out on.” Tyler Jordan whimpered at the thought of Quentin taking him in front of a crowd, and Quentin squeezed his ass and then let go of him again. “Hold yourself open for me, I want a good look at you.” Tyler Jordan shivered as he moved to obey, dizzy with arousal knowing that he was putting himself on display for Quentin’s close inspection. “Good, stay just like that.” He could feel Quentin’s breath on the back of one thigh, and then Quentin flirted a fingertip down Tyler Jordan’s cleft, grazing over sensitive skin and then gone an instant later. “How charming. Such a pretty little hole, and it’s all mine now.”
“What--” Tyler Jordan’s voice failed him on a gasp when Quentin blew a cool stream of breath right there, and he had to try again. “What are you going to do with it?”
“So many things. Anything I like, whenever I care to do it. But first…” Quentin rested a damp fingertip against Tyler Jordan’s entrance, not pressing, just present. “First, I’m going to make it crave me. I’m going to teach you the meaning of need, until you’re begging me to fill you up, and if you beg prettily enough I’ll give you every inch of my cock and show you who you belong to.” Tyler Jordan moaned, tilting his hips and whining when Quentin’s touch withdrew again. “Do you want it already, pretty boy? I’ve barely begun.”
“Do what you want with me,” Tyler Jordan said, “I can take it.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that you can. But I’m doing exactly what I want with you right now.” Tyler Jordan thought he’d lose his mind from the teasing touches, a single fingertip tracing between his cheeks and drawing circles over his hole before brushing down his perineum. “Don’t let go,” Quentin said, and Tyler Jordan got a better grip on himself that he almost lost immediately when Quentin’s tongue followed the path his finger had taken, then blew against the damp skin and made Tyler Jordan quiver. “You make such a pretty picture like this, you have no idea,” Quentin purred, and he touched the same path with a little more pressure, humming with satisfaction when Tyler Jordan’s body yielded slightly around his fingertip.
“Please,” Tyler Jordan breathed, hips canting back, trying to get more. “Please, Quentin.” That earned him a gentle slap on one buttcheek.
“That’s captain to you,” Quentin laughed, and Tyler Jordan moved one foot to catch at Quentin’s ankle.
“Please, captain, let me have it. Make me yours.”
“You want me to rush? I’m enjoying savoring you.” Quentin licked him again, tongue drawing a spiral over his entrance before pressing in. “Mm, you taste like a hardworking man. There’s nothing better than turning a strong man into a begging boy, especially one so pretty as you.” He spent a couple of minutes licking Tyler Jordan to the sound of his whimpers before he scattered a few kisses over Tyler Jordan’s exposed skin, where his ass met his thighs and on the backs of his balls, which were already drawn high against his body. Hand stealing between his legs, Quentin took hold of Tyler Jordan’s cock and dragged his thumb over the wet head. “Oh, you do want it, don’t you?”
“Yes. So much. Ravish me, run me through, put me in my place…” Tyler Jordan reached back to tangle his hand in Quentin’s hair and Quentin nipped at his wrist. “Take me. Please. I need you.”
“How can I resist a plea like that?” This time when Quentin’s tongue pressed against Tyler Jordan’s hole, it was followed by a slick finger slowly sinking into him, then another pressing in alongside the first. “Put your hands on the edge of the desk,” Quentin said, and when Tyler Jordan obeyed he was rewarded with the tip of Quentin’s cock teasing at him. “Who do you belong to, Tyler Jordan?”
“You, I’m yours, I’m only yours!” He keened as Quentin filled him in a single thrust, and Quentin molded himself along Tyler Jordan’s back and laced their fingers together on the desk, kissing the sweat from the back of his neck.
“Love you so fucking much,” Quentin purred, nothing left of the pretense when his claim on Tyler Jordan was so real. He still didn’t rush, slowly withdrawing and thrusting in again, and Tyler Jordan melted against the desk at the perfect ache of Quentin pushing every inch into his willing body.
“Fuck, so good,” he gasped, and Quentin kissed his shoulders and his spine as he gradually picked up the pace. “Yeah, make me feel it.”
“Yeah?” The next thrust was fiercer, and Tyler Jordan moaned and arched into it. Quentin let go of his hands and gripped his hips instead, driving into him faster. Tyler Jordan reached down to take himself in hand just as Quentin found the perfect angle, and it only took a couple of thrusts against that spot inside him for Tyler Jordan to explode with a howl. Quentin didn’t pause, just fucked him through the tremors until he found his own release a scant few thrusts in Tyler Jordan’s wake, falling back into the desk chair and pulling Tyler Jordan with him still impaled. Tyler Jordan turned to kiss him, breathless and languid, and Quentin laughed against his lips. “Mm. Was that good?”
“Fucking amazing,” Tyler Jordan agreed. “Wasn’t expecting you to play so nice, I thought you’d be more violent than that.”
“This was for you more than me,” Quentin said, carding his fingers through Tyler Jordan’s hair. “Tried to keep it to your favorite things. Being watched, being teased…”
“That was so fucking hot. Holding myself so you could look at me. Knowing how close you were looking.”
“You look so good on display. I almost wanted to take a picture.”
“Yeah? You still can…” Tyler Jordan leaned forward on the desk, reaching back to splay his cheeks again, and he heard Quentin inhale sharply.
“God, look at you.” He felt Quentin’s fingertip graze against his sensitive hole. “All red and messy and well-fucked. Are you sore?”
“A little.” A second later he felt Quentin’s tongue there and he gasped. “Are you really--?” Quentin lapped at him gently, cleaning up the mess he’d made of his husband, and Tyler Jordan whimpered at the intimacy of it, one more thing he was surprised that Quentin wasn’t only willing but apparently eager to do. “Q, god…”
“Come here.” Quentin pulled Tyler Jordan back into his arms and nuzzled at his neck. “You’re so beautiful. In every state, from every angle. How’d I get so lucky to end up with you?”
“We both lucked out,” Tyler Jordan said, tangling his hand in Quentin’s hair. “Because we both want to make each other happy.” He leaned back slightly and grinned. “And you look hot as hell in the pirate getup. Goddamn.”
“Can I borrow it when you take me to Faire?”
“I’ll get kicked out for cutting my peace ties and fending the wenches away from you with a sword,” Tyler Jordan laughed, tugging at the loose laces of the shirt. “You can’t go out looking this good.”
“Why? You don’t get jealous,” Quentin said, holding him closer. “And it should be an ego boost to you when I tell them all that I’m entirely devoted to my wonderful husband, right?”
“You can’t have my leather pants. But you should have a pair of your own.”
“That’s fair, these don’t fit me perfectly.”
“I really just wanna take you to all the vendors and make you try everything on and buy you the most sexy, dangerous looking outfit we can put together.”
“I’m in favor of this plan. We’ll just be the hottest gay pirates anyone’s ever seen.” Quentin kissed Tyler Jordan’s neck again. “Next time can you be the pirate and I’ll be the sailor?”
“You want it, you got it.” Tyler Jordan caught him for a quick kiss on the lips, then stood up and arched his back until it popped. “That was so good, but I need a shower and something to eat and some cuddle time on the couch.”
“You take care of the first one, I’ll take care of the second two,” Quentin said, not able to resist giving Tyler Jordan a slap on the ass as he walked out of the room. He looked down at himself and decided that he should at least take a couple of selfies to tease Tyler Jordan with in the days to come before he changed out of these clothes.
