"First time with a man though," he adds rather cryptically. His eyes never leave Hickey's fingers, watching them get coated with the slick and thinking of them inside of him.
He squares his jaw slightly and looks up at him in expectation.
When he's got his fingers slicked up, Hickey looks over at Crozier, gives him a wry grin, and then slowly slips his fingers inside the man. He moves them around, starting to open up Crozier, watching his expression with interest and delight all the while.
Hickey adjusts his fingers, moving them around, trying obviously to find the sweet spot. Every groan and moan means that Hickey will just leave his fingers in that spot for the moment longer.
Eventually, he slips a third finger in as well, trying to loosen Crozier up even more.
"That's it," he laughs. "Let's get you nice and loose for me."
When he's ready, and the pressure of his fingers turns into a sweet ache, he begins to rock up against his hand. He grabs Hickey's shoulder and stares back into his face as he bears down on him, letting out a low, needy groan.
When he feels Crozier rock up against him, that's when Hickey knows he's ready. He moves his fingers out of Crozier, wiping the remainder of the oil and slick on his cock. He's careful as he does this, adjusting his position so that he can slide inside the captain. When it happens, Hickey lets out a low laugh of pleasure, grinning all the while. Once inside, he starts to thrust. Both of them are going to enjoy themselves tonight, thank you very much.
Being fucked by an actual prick is a lot different than fingers, and Crozier is pleasantly surprised as he's filled entirely by him. He gasps quietly at that first thrust, then again, then begins to moan as Hickey sets the rhythms between them.
Hickey grins as he continues to thrust in and out, looking down at Crozier with a wide smile on his face. This is what he wants. This is what he loves.
"Say my name again," he laughs, tiredness in his voice, as he continues to work Francis.
Crozier raises his hands to cup Hickey's face, drawing him down for a desperate kiss. "Hickey," he smirks, nipping at his lip until he's certain it'll bruise.
Hickey gives Crozier a distracted little grin. He loves this. He loves just hearing someone call his name with love in his voice like that. He pushes himself further into Crozier, filling him up as deep as he possibly can, before practically smushing his face down on Crozier's, not at all caring that the man's teeth are now also certainly drawing blood, so that he can kiss him just as ferociously.
There's the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, and he growls and places his hands on Hickey's arms to steady himself enough to push back. He's close, he's very close, and he both loathes and loves that they're both nearing the end.
He's feeling stiff as well, ready to collapse and spend himself at any moment—a damn shame, as Hickey wants this to last for an eternity. "But kiss me while it's happening."
And he forces himself downward to try and kiss Crozier again, pushing his tongue in the other man's mouth. And it's only ten or so seconds later that Hickey groans in his captain's mouth and spends inside him. It's a sweet sensation that he hasn't felt in ages.
He pushes himself up as he holds fast to Hickey's head, gasping into his mouth as he feels him spill within him. It's the oddest sensation too, but not in a terrible way.
Crozier reaches down between them for himself, desperate to join him. He spends into his hand and over Hickey's stomach with a hiss, biting his lip again and kissing him fiercely.
Hickey feels the stickiness of Crozier's spend on his stomach. And then, moments later, he feels the tug of teeth on lips as he starts to kiss Crozier back, just as fiercely.
They're a sticky, sweaty, awful mess, but this is the happiest Hickey's been in ages.
God in heaven, he doesn’t want this moment to end. He kisses him back, over and over, until his body screams for him to lie back and relax for a minute.
He covers his face with his arm and exhales sharply. “Fuck.”
"Fuck indeed," Hickey quietly laughs. He looks down at Crozier, wide grin on his face, before he shifts his position so that he can lay down next to the man.
"I'll miss this," he quietly muses. "I'll miss you."
"I am," Hickey says, as he leans into Crozier, just enjoying the feeling of body heat. "There's no way in hell I'm cut out to be a warden. I'd get demoted during my first month. It's better I leave this place and go back home to do what I need to do."
It needs to be said; he doesn't quite believe there will be a future. He doesn't blame him for being sentimental, of course, and he does wish to find him again. It's just...realism.
"I hope you do," Hickey quietly admits. "You're different in my time. You've changed. And the men need someone who's changed, who's capable and knows what they're doing."
There's a pause before Hickey admits, "If you had your shit in gear from the start, I doubt I'd have enough pull for a mutiny."
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He does exactly as asked, sitting back and placing the bottle into Hickey's hand. "You'll find me not quite as virginal as you might expect."
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He uncorks the vial and starts to slick up his fingers. Hickey's making a show of it, looking over at Crozier and watching his reaction.
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He squares his jaw slightly and looks up at him in expectation.
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Crozier lays back against the bed, hands twisting in the sheets as he adjusts to the pressure of Hickey's fingers inside of him.
"Christ, yes."
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Eventually, he slips a third finger in as well, trying to loosen Crozier up even more.
"That's it," he laughs. "Let's get you nice and loose for me."
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When he's ready, and the pressure of his fingers turns into a sweet ache, he begins to rock up against his hand. He grabs Hickey's shoulder and stares back into his face as he bears down on him, letting out a low, needy groan.
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"Jesus Christ, Hickey, Jesus..."
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"Say my name again," he laughs, tiredness in his voice, as he continues to work Francis.
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"Will you....inside?"
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He's feeling stiff as well, ready to collapse and spend himself at any moment—a damn shame, as Hickey wants this to last for an eternity. "But kiss me while it's happening."
And he forces himself downward to try and kiss Crozier again, pushing his tongue in the other man's mouth. And it's only ten or so seconds later that Hickey groans in his captain's mouth and spends inside him. It's a sweet sensation that he hasn't felt in ages.
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Crozier reaches down between them for himself, desperate to join him. He spends into his hand and over Hickey's stomach with a hiss, biting his lip again and kissing him fiercely.
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They're a sticky, sweaty, awful mess, but this is the happiest Hickey's been in ages.
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He covers his face with his arm and exhales sharply. “Fuck.”
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"I'll miss this," he quietly muses. "I'll miss you."
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"So you're really going to leave."
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Then they must part.
“I’ve never been happier to have been wrong about someone.”
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"I'll find you again at some point. Trust me. And then we'll pick up where we left off."
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It needs to be said; he doesn't quite believe there will be a future. He doesn't blame him for being sentimental, of course, and he does wish to find him again. It's just...realism.
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There's a pause before Hickey admits, "If you had your shit in gear from the start, I doubt I'd have enough pull for a mutiny."
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There's a pained look that flits across his face. "What would I be going back to, if not a doomed expedition?"
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