A First Time For Everything
A fill I did for the community disney_kink. Admittedly, this one took a while to complete because it was the first time I had to write smut. Thankfully, guiltywords helped me get through it, and was kind enough to beta it as well. She deserves something special. :D
ANYWAY.
"A First Time For Everything"
“So, you’ve done this before, right?” Thomas stretched out on the pile of furs as he watched the shadows play across the muscles in Kocoum’s back. He’d already undressed himself, and now waited for the older man to finish... whatever he was doing so he could join him. Hopefully he was getting a lubricant of some kind. The last time Thomas let a man bugger him the idiot bent him over without warning in a London alleyway. He had a hard time walking back home that night, and an even harder time explaining to his mother why he moved so stiffly.
He buried into his arms, face feeling like a brand at the thought. While he’d engaged in one or two couplings on the Susan Constant (it was a long voyage), they’d kept it brief and secret. No point in braving to the New World only to have your head lobbed off for being an invert. But among his people Kocoum explained (and again when Thomas didn’t believe him, in a much more physical manner), such unions were as ordinary as those between a man and a woman. But even with this stroke of luck, it meant that whenever he craved such... relations he would have to go to Kocoum. Someone who was firmly not the “sharing type.” But if he loved as well as he looked, Thomas couldn’t complain too much.
Kocoum returned to the bed and settled beside him, one arm wrapping around his waist and the other drawing the bearskin over them. He noticed that he didn’t have any lubricant with him--perhaps he didn’t intend to cover Thomas tonight? It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; sometimes Thomas’ indulgences were limited to mutual fondling or frottage, due to less-than-ideal locations and time. And some men simply had no favor towards it. Pressing himself against Kocoum, Thomas decided he could manage, for now, at least. Perhaps later he could make the suggestion, or at least hint at it. Thomas shivered as Kocoum began to leave a trail of kisses along his shoulder, soft and possessive, each declaration of affection fanning the heat pooling in his belly. Thomas’ breath caught when Kocoum stared at him, eyes darkened by a thinly veiled lust. Soon those lips found his own, and Thomas felt the rich warmth of the furs against his back as Kocoum bore him down on the bed.
Thomas tilted his head back farther and closed his eyes, giving the warrior better access to his neck. He slid one hand between them, memorizing the taught, firm muscles of Kocoum’s abdomen, the sharp jutting of his hips, the curve of his inner thigh before grasping the thick hardness between them. He grinned as he felt the older man stiffen, then grind into his palm, never stopping his assault on the Englishman’s neck. Thomas tugged slightly and nipped at Kocoum’s ear before returning to the long, slow strokes that made the warrior press him further into the bed. Normally, he would work his partner into completion, but he found himself wanting to stretch this moment out as long as possible, to feel the older man against him, inside of him, with him. Kocoum wasn’t like the other men he’d lain with before; they were always discreet, insistent, and attentive to their own needs. But Kocoum, with his large, rough hands and more strength in one arm than all of Thomas, gently held him close, ran fingers slowly down his back and sides, threaded them reverently through his red hair. The sheer amount of attention the man gave him lit his body on fire.
“You do have lubricant of some kind, don’t you?” Thomas gasped, pulling away from Kocoum just enough to line up his face with his own. His face burned even hotter at the thought of the warrior inside him.
Kocoum’s face settled into one of his many frowns Thomas had the pleasure of deciphering ever since their “friendship” had started. And by “pleasure,” he meant nigh-bloody-impossible-and-only-through-strokes-of-luck. It had taken a compromising position and a hardness at his backside for him to get any hint that the man-shaped stone returned his feelings. Thomas liked to think that he was a bit more observant than he actually was, what with the older man’s constant attention and gifts, but knew he was only lying to himself when he still couldn’t figure out what Kocoum was not saying.
He prompted the warrior again. Perhaps lubricant didn’t carry the same implications here as it did in England. “Oil?”
“There is something I use for my hair, but..”
“But what?”
“Never mind.” Kocoum said quickly, almost as quickly as he left the bed to return with a small ceramic jar filled with tree oil. Thomas made a mental note to pilfer a bottle or two of oil from the ship’s storage when he had the chance. It wasn’t like the men were using it anyway. Kocoum held the jar in his hands, running a thumb along its rim, a crease forming across his brow before glancing at Thomas out of the corner of his eye. “This is... strange.”
Thomas drew himself up with his elbows. He couldn’t be backing out now. Hell, he’d better not be backing out now. While Kocoum was unmarried and had long since dissolved his betrothal to Pocahontas, he still wasn’t excused from being the most eligible bachelor in the village. Thomas wasn’t blind to the sheep’s eyes women cast at the warrior whenever he passed through the corn fields. He wasn’t deaf to sighs and giggles passed between the younger women whenever they spoke of him. The Englishman thought by this time Kocoum would’ve taken one of those women to wife, but here he was with Thomas, naked in bed and staring at the jar as if it had grown a head and talked.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Thomas asked, reaching out to stroke his back but decided better against it. Sometimes, stricken by the guilt and possible horror of their wife and community discovering, men would back out and tarry home. The same men that scoped the London taverns and alleyways under the cloak of night for those equally inclined claimed that God would help him stop luring men off the righteous path, despite themselves having strayed from it long before they’d met him.
“No,” Kocoum said firmly. “I never did. It’s just that... Are you sure about this?”
“If I didn’t I would’ve never suggested it.” Thomas replied, now sitting at Kocoum’s side and studying his face in the near darkness. Why was he choosing now to be hesitant? It wasn’t like either of them lacked experience; Thomas had been with plenty of men while Kocoum... well, he was certain that with a body that coveted Kocoum probably slept with enough people as well. And with the way Kocoum told him of the men coupling with one another while on hunting trips, he was bound to have some experience, right?
“Would you have still if you knew I’ve never been with a man?”
Oh. Oh. Well. This was different.
The silence that hung in the tent didn’t help, either.
Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “It could be fun, you know. Figuring out what you like.” He wondered what the feeling churning it his stomach was: either disgust at himself for his own impurity and making false assumptions about Kocoum, or sheer glee at the fact that he will be Kocoum’s first. Not only did he hope it was the latter, but that he had enough sense about him to guide him through it.
Kocoum frowned. “It doesn’t bother you?”
Thomas shook his head and placed a hand on Kocoum’s back. “No,” His hands progressed to Kocoum’s shoulders, and he slowly eased the tension out from underneath the muscle, feeling the warrior finally relax under his grasp. Thomas moved from his side to his lap, and pressed a kiss right underneath Kocoum’s chin. “I can show you through it.”
Thomas stilled when Kocoum held him by the shoulders, suddenly aware of the darkness edging into his voice. “You’ve done this before?” Who have you done this with before and is he here?
“Not really,” Thomas mumbled into Kocoum’s shoulder. “But I’ve heard enough talk at the camp to have a good idea of how it works.” Half-truths were better than no truth at all. He took the jar from Kocoum and pushed gently against his chest. “Just lie back. Please.”
Kocoum took a moment to mull over Thomas’ explanation before complying. With Kocoum on his back, Thomas settled on top of him, shifting to find a comfortable position in spite of the hardness prodding at his backside. He reached for the jar of oil and, ensuring that his index and middle finger were both well-coated, pressed gently behind him until they slipped inside. Thomas kept his eyes closed during the process. Usually, his partner had the pleasure of preparing him (only the patient ones) and always from behind. But this, this was too obscene, too raw as he listened to Kocoum’s harsh breathing. Too much, as he felt one strong, firm hand snake its way up his inner thigh dangerously close to his cock. Too intimate, with the way he shuddered when Kocoum brushed his thumb across its twitching head.
“Ah, please,” Thomas begged, stilling the older man’s hand as he withdrew his own from his backside. Adjusting his position, Thomas returned to the jar and coated his hand liberally, oiling Kocoum’s length. Thomas yelped when Kocoum yanked him down by the shoulder and kissed him roughly, mouth hot and demanding, one hand tangled in his hair and the other snaked around his side. Kocoum rolled both their bodies over the bed, and now Thomas stared into dark, hungry eyes filled with want as Kocoum hovered above him.
“So you like this?” Kocoum asked, his voice lower. Rougher.
Thomas’ mind drew a blank and he could only nod dumbly. The corner of Kocoum’s mouth curved just so, and he planted a kiss on Thomas’ lips before reaching down between them and pressing a finger into him. Thomas flinched at the contact and tried to draw the warrior closer to him, lest he perceived it as apprehension.
“You are… sure it will fit?” Although his expression had settled into one of his frowns again, Thomas did not miss the note of trepidation in his voice. One of his eyebrows quirked and Kocoum crooked his finger inside Thomas, brushing against his prostate.
Thomas moaned underneath Kocoum’s touch and dug his fingernails into his back.
“Thomas?!”
“Do it again,” Thomas gasped in a moment of clarity. The feeling came again and Thomas shamelessly writhed on the bed. But it wasn’t enough; he wanted, no, needed more. He rocked his hips up against Kocoum’s, stiff cock rubbing against his belly. “Now. Do it now.”
Kocoum studied Thomas for a moment before easing in, looking up every so often for any signs of pain on the Englishman’s face. Thomas did his best not to groan; there was always a little discomfort with someone new, but Kocoum didn’t know that and would equate discomfort with pain. And really, at this point Thomas didn’t want Kocoum to stop. He evened his breathing out, slow and steady.
But that mantra shattered when Kocoum slipped in too quickly, a sudden jolt of pain shooting up his spine and forcing a curse from the Englishman’s lips. Kocoum froze. “Did I hurt you?” He asked, searching Thomas’ face. He began to draw away.
Before he knew what he was doing Thomas grabbed him at the hip. “I’m fine, really. Just surprised.” Thomas ran his hand up and down Kocoum’s arm, hoping that the gesture would be enough to pacify him. “Really. Come back.”
It was enough.
Once Kocoum buried himself fully into Thomas he waited for the smaller man to adjust to the intrusion. Despite the initial pain, Thomas found himself reassuring Kocoum more than himself and that he was fine, and that this was expected, and once they started moving he would feel a lot better. And he did feel a lot better, because once they found their rhythm, Thomas didn’t want Kocoum to stop, didn’t want to stop the little sparks coursing through his body each time Kocoum thrust against him, the sudden euphoric rush as the warrior buried his face into Thomas’ neck, a low, husky rumbling from his throat. Finally, Kocoum slowed down, slowly lowering himself on top of Thomas and buried his face into the crook of his neck. Heart pounding, Thomas waited before tapping an odd sort of signal on Kocoum’s back. He seemed to take the hint, rolling over on his side and off of Thomas.
They lay there on the bed, wrapped around each other and the cool night air brushing against them, bodies slick with sweat and the sounds of their labored breathing cutting through the silence. With one strong arm Kocoum drew Thomas to his side, hand lazily resting on the Englishman’s hip. It was a long while before he spoke. “Did you like it?” Despite the lack of tremor in his voice, Thomas could hear how the warrior’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. And after all this, Thomas felt his own heart flutter, and that same odd, warm feeling churning in his stomach.
Thomas shifted until he laid partially on Kocoum and pressed a kiss to the older man’s nose. “I don’t know. Maybe you could show me again?” Thomas grinned when he saw the edges of Kocoum’s mouth curve slightly, deciding that he would find a way to see that look more often as he bent down to give his warrior a proper kiss.