February 8, 2012

Disclaimer: no sea kings were harmed in the writing of this story. Written for porn battle XIII. The request was Iceburg/Franky, I picked the prompts sea and young, and possibly also happiness, so of course it's Iceburg/Cutty Flam. Beta by Arduinna. Do not archive without permission.

funky little boat race

It's late when he comes back, tousled and sticky with sweat and sea salt, grinning like a maniac, sand between his toes. The latest Battle Franky may not be everything he wants, not yet, and he wouldn't take on a Sea King in it -- well, maybe a very small one -- but the speed was pretty good. He'd gone out farther than he intended and raced some crazy flying fish that lit up in garish neon colors when the sun went down, fallen in the water at least three times trying to catch one so he could bring it back for Tom and Kokoro to see, and it had all been glorious.

Now it's late, all the lights are out, all good children are in their beds, which means that of course Iceburg is in his bed, warm and snug, uptight and annoying even in sleep, no doubt. Cutty Flam decides to find out. He slips under the blanket and settles against Iceburg's side.

Mm, warm. And Iceburg may be uptight and annoying, but he smells good. Like someone who worked hard all day and then washed up carefully afterwards. Cutty Flam grins and puts his chilly, sandy feet on Iceburg's calves.

"Nnnmatthehell..." Iceburg blinks slowly, then fixes him with a stare that cuts through the near-darkness. "Get your cold feet off to your own bed. Stop crawling into mine like you're five years old and scared of the dark."

"Not five years old," Cutty Flam says, rubbing suggestively against Iceburg's hip. He stretches out and presses closer, getting more naked skin against his own. This is good.

"Five-year-olds have a better sense of responsibility," Iceburg mutters, but he turns at the same time so they're front to front, puts an arm around Cutty Flam and pulls him closer. He's lean and strong and comfortable, and Cutty Flam tries to erase that last thought from his mind, because it comes a little too close to what Iceburg just said, that Cutty Flam crawls into bed with him for comfort, like a child. That's really not what he has in mind right now.

"I got amazing speed today," he says instead. "The engine's really something." His hips keep moving, thrusting slowly, and he can feel Iceburg starting to push back, and not in the push-you-out-of-bed way, either. When their whole bodies are moving against each other, it's so good, skin and warmth and friction. He can feel Iceburg all over. "You should've been there. It was super!"

"I worked today," Iceburg says, and his breath is already coming a little faster, though he tries to disguise it with a cough. "You should have, too. This is a busy season for us. Oh."

Cutty Flam chews a bit on Iceburg's shoulder, because teeth is fine, although tongue can be a problem. He brushes Iceburg's hair out of the way and bites his neck. "I like the way you taste," he says out of nowhere, because he does, and it doesn't mean he likes Iceburg or anything, it's just--

Only Iceburg grabs him by the hair and pulls his head back, and then Iceburg is kissing him, those narrow lips pressing against his own, Iceburg's tongue licking at Cutty Flam's mouth and demanding entrance. It's a problem, all right.

They don't do this. They've never kissed, never even come close to kissing, they don't do this, and if Cutty Flam had any sense he'd jump up and leave the bed and never come back.

But apparently he doesn't have any sense, because his lips are parting and he's kissing back and it feels so good. It makes everything better, this kissing thing, and the quick thrusts have changed into a slow grinding motion that is nevertheless bringing more heat and tension than before, a slow but powerful roll of intense sensation, up his spine, down into his toes, out to his fingertips. Cutty Flam can feel it in the pit of his stomach, too. His whole body is tingling with it. It's better than racing flying fish.

"You taste like sea water," Iceburg says into his mouth. "You taste like..." The last word remains unspoken, licked onto Cutty Flam's tongue. He's drowning in these kisses; Iceburg's mouth on his is as powerful as the rising waters of Aqua Laguna, dragging him along, making him shiver, making everything better than it's ever been before.

It makes him wonder, faintly, why they've never kissed before. He didn't know it would be so good.

Iceburg's hand is hard and strong on the back of his neck, holding him close, and Cutty Flam grabs on to Iceburg's hip, pressing them even closer. He'd thought it would take more work to get them here, more talking, more of what Iceburg calls crude gestures and he calls making clear what he wants. Because he wanted this even before he crawled into Iceburg's bed, and once he felt Iceburg's body against his, oh, did he want this, but Iceburg changed it all somehow, and now Cutty Flam wants the kissing even more than what he knows will be at the end of the kissing, but at the same time he can't stop his hips from moving, pushing them forward towards that inevitable ending.

He bites at Iceburg's lips, and then bites his own lip to try to slow things down, but Iceburg licks it better. Cutty Flam throws his head back and moans, feeling the first slow tremors, and Iceburg chases after his mouth and eats that moan, and the next one, and his tongue drags it all out of Cutty Flam no matter how much he tries to hold it off: the shaking, the moaning, the harsh jerk and scream as he comes harder than he's ever done before in his life.

And then Iceburg just keeps kissing him and thrusts more forcefully against him, and Cutty Flam can barely manage to kiss him back, to take the soft sound into his mouth that means Iceburg is coming, too, the way he does everything else, quietly, intensely.

They're lying tangled so close together, Cutty Flam can't tell whose thundering heartbeat that is, echoing in his ears.

"Made a mess," he says finally, and they're still so close together that his lips move against Iceburg's when he speaks.

Iceburg lets out a breath that might be a dry laugh, stretches for something behind Cutty Flam's back, and wipes them both off with a rag. Cutty Flam thinks it might be the rag that Iceburg ties over his hair, but he's not sure. It's dark. One rag looks a lot like another to him.

"Work with us tomorrow," Iceburg says. "We have a lot to do."

"Mm." Of course he will. He doesn't just goof off all the time. Not all the time. Not... oh, now he's sleepy, and Iceburg is so warm and close. "Gonna sleep here tonight."

"You got sand in my bed, brat," Iceburg says, and then his mouth is against Cutty Flam's again, and it's so very soft.

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