complaininginthedark:

(we start with something a little different; Vane/Flint for @thefvckingwarship and I gotta say I dig this one)

–

He was crowded against the door, the noise and bustle of the tavern below so close yet so far as Vane pounded into him. James was biting his sleeve to stifle the ragged and keening noises trying to fall from his lips. The thick pleasure in made his toes curl in his boots, even as tears pricked at his closed eyes. 

“So good,” Vane was growling in his ear. “C’mon captain,” he teased, fingers winding into James’ hair, “make a little noise for me.”

He tugged, James nearly screamed. 

His cock throbbed, dribbled clear fluid, his mouth falling open on a low moan as the sharp pain thrummed through him. Charles moaned with him and tugged again, forcing Flint’s head back against his shoulder, his spine bowing as perfectly as any of the whores up the street. 

“Fuck, fuck!” He hissed and thrust back. Vane tugged his head to the side, making him moan again, louder, and sucked a dark bruise into the side of his neck. 

A hand, hot and calloused and so tight, closed around his prick and made his vision blur. 

Another tug.

Another bite at his throat. 

He felt Vane’s tongue on his throat and the fingers in his hair tighten and-

“Fuck!” 

He came with a bitten off cry, bucking his hips and near sobbing with how it felt. The sweat release after weeks of abstinence at sea and nothing to look at but waves and adonis-like men had left him almost desperate for this. And, as usual, Vane delivered.