sunburned | (no subject)

"But I want you to use me," says Priestly, the words quiet because they feel a little strange to him, it's not something he's used to saying. "I want you to want all the parts of me. I want to not have to hold anything back."

For a moment, his head's light and he can't say anything. The sound that comes out of him is more like a moan than anything, and he sways in, catching Priestly's mouth in a long kiss.

"You never have to hold anything back with me anyway," he says, finally. "You know that."

Which is not, categorically not, him saying no.

"Well, I know that now," says Priestly. It's not something he's ever had an innate confidence in, though, even now. Being wholly himself is a choice he's made, but it's one he was always too aware had a price. "If you wanted to kiss me again to try to reinforce the point, though, I wouldn't object."

"Gladly," he murmurs, and then his mouth is on Priestly's again, kissing him hard, urging him back towards the bedroom. His fingers curl around Priestly's wrist, holding on tight.

He nips on his lip as he pulls back, dropping both ties onto the bed.

"Don't move," he says, arching one eyebrow, as he starts on the buttons of Priestly's shirt.

"I'm not going anywhere," says Priestly, his breath catching as he looks up at the expression on John's face. "Unless Laurence comes home. He's not coming home, right?"

"He's not coming home," says Granby, but he kicks the door shut before he comes back, just in case. He arches an eyebrow, swallows, tries to force his face serious.

"I mean it - don't move until I tell you. Understand?"

Priestly doesn't ask if Laurence knows. That's a conversation for another time, when he's not being stripped by a Captain.

"I won't move," he promises, and his heart thumps a little harder. This should not be turning him on as much as it is, it really shouldn't.

A smile tugs the corner of Granby's mouth as he smoothly unbuttons Priestly's shirt, pushing it and his jacket back off his shoulder.

"You won't move what?"

"I won't move...Captain," he says. Sir is on the tip of his tongue, but Captain...Captain just does things to him.

"There it is," he says, smile spreading across his face as he smooths his hand across Priestly's chest, thumbnail grazing his nipple, scraping, before it slips lower, cupping his cock through his trousers and squeezing possessively.

"How well do you take correction?" he asks.

"I'm pretty, uh, I'm pretty insubordinate, actually," says Priestly. It's only the truth, after all. "I might need some extra attention. Captain."

"Oh, really?" he asks, still grinning, squeezing Priestly's cock again, feeling the hard line of him against his palm. "It's a bit different from putting unruly midshipmen in line, but I'm sure I can think of something."

Yeah, Priestly certainly hopes that this isn't how John keeps his men in line, not all of them. He knows they're not a thing, but he likes to feel a little bit special anyway. Also, handing out this kind of discipline on a ship would probably have the opposite effect, and also, he's really overthinking this.

"I'm sure I'll be responsive to your, uh—" How was it John had put it? "Correction."

Granby struggles hard to stay in role, to stay serious. He can have authority when he means to. He shifts his hand, unbuttoning Priestly's trousers,letting them sag down around his hips so that he can push his hand inside his underwear, curling his fingers around his cock and stroking, slowly.

"How badly do you want that?"

"So badly," says Priestly, the words slipping out so fast he's glad he hasn't said something embarrassing because there was no way he was stopping them. "God, I want it so much."

It's gratifying to notice that Priestly hasn't moved yet. Granby leans in and kisses him, hot and deep.

"Right now," he breathes, mouth still against Priestly's. "What I want most? Is to come in your mouth."

"Do it," says Priestly, not forgetting who's in charge here but letting the imperative slip out anyway because he wants it that much. He wants all of it. "I have a great mouth. Use it."

The first thing he does is shove Priestly's trousers and underwear down around his ankles, essentially stripping him naked. And then he takes a moment to look at him, grazing his fingers against the hard-line of his cock. He bites his lip.

"On your knees then," he says. "Hands behind your back."

Priestly, while generally very bad at following orders, has no trouble with these ones. He's on his knees before he even realizes he's moving, hands clasped behind his back and waiting in anticipation.

Granby's pulled rank from time to time for a variety of reasons, but that's nothing compared to the head-rush that he feels from seeing Priestly sink to his knees so quickly. He makes short work of his own shirt, shoving his trousers down around his thighs, curling his fingers around his own cock and squeezing.

"Open your mouth," he says. "Remember what I said about not moving."

Not only doesn't Priestly move this time, he doesn't even talk. Which, actually, takes more effort. But he's holding his mouth open and just breathing and he's found something he wants more.

Actually, no, he does say one thing.

"Yes, Captain."

He doesn't take Priestly's mouth immediately. He steps in, cock still in hand, and he rubs the head of it along Priestly's bottom lip, leaving it slick. It takes a lot, a lot of self control, but he shifts his hips forward, just enough to inch past Priestly's lips, rest against his tongue.

So much of this is about control, and not just over the other man.

Priestly flicks his tongue out, over the head of John's cock and around, closes his lips around it for a moment but then opens them again to invite him further inside. He doesn't move, even though he desperately wants to tip forward to get more of him; it takes self control that he thinks would be admirable except he's never going to try to impress anyone with this story.

"I told you to stay still," says John, voice a touch reproachful, even as the words end on a sound that's very like a moan. "We're going to have a conversation about that in a minute."

He rocks his hips, pushing deeper into Priestly's mouth and then pulls almost all of the way out before he does it again, just as deep.

Priestly doesn't even try to answer, nor does he try to do anything with his mouth this time other than take what John wants to give him, when he wants to give it to him. But it's hard, it's desperately hard, and he makes inarticulate noises from the back of his throat as he does.