sunburned | (no subject)

"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.

Pushing his fingers into Priestly's hair, he alters the tilt of his head slightly, rolling his hips to slide over the flat of his tongue. A brief, ragged moan spills out of him.

"Jesus."

Priestly's still breathing through his mouth, sucking cold air up and over John's cock as it goes deeper. He leaves his lips slack, just, desperately waiting for the moment John tells him to close them, tells him to tongue or suck or, god, anything.

Granby's had a lot of this in his life, since the year that he turned fourteen and it's not always meant the same thing. This time, clearly, it's not really about the act at all - it's about Priestly on his knees and the fact that he still hasn't moved.

The movement of Granby's hips is becoming more erratic, snapping, shoving his cock deeper into Priestly's mouth.

Priestly's instinct is to reach up and grab Granby's hips and keep him from going so deep, so fast, but his hands just twitch and he doesn't, just squeezes his watering eyes shut for a moment and clamps down on his cough and wills his throat open as much as he can.

The gag makes his stomach twist and he almost stops, almost asks if Priestly's okay, but that's not the game that they're playing. It's not beyond his notice that Priestly still doesn't move.

He does ease off, though, a little, making sure he doesn't hit the back of Priestly's throat on every thrust.

Priestly relaxes, little by little, first his legs, then his shoulders, then his throat so that John can slide in a little deeper when he goes all the way inside. He finds a rhythm in it, and finally opens his eyes so that he can see John's body again, see his own body responding.

There's no warning, but maybe there shouldn't be - it's in keeping with what they're doing here. His fingers tighten in Priestly's hair as he comes, hard, a small, broken sound leaking out of him along with everything else.

Priestly doesn't wait to be told what to do. He doesn't reach out for John—even though his hands twitch to do so again—but he does close his lips and close his eyes and swallow repeatedly. And wishes very, very hard for someone to touch him soon because he's on the razor edge of coming too and he just wants to get there, however he can.

It's a decision that John can allow him. He stands back and watches Priestly swallow, combing his fingers through his hair.

"Naked," he says. "And on the bed, if you please."

"Yes, Captain," he says, his throat a little raw, even though he hasn't been invited to speak.

It's hard taking his clothes off and not just wrapping a hand around his cock and jerking off for the five seconds it's going to take him to come, harder than he though it would be. But it's worth it so he gets there in the end, naked and stretched out on John's bed.

The effect of that has yet to wain. Granby sheds what's left of his clothes and comes to stand next to the bed. He arches an eyebrow.

"Over you go," he says. "Up on your knees. Hands on the bed frame. Don't let your cock touch the sheets."