[RL w/Lucci: Backdated to October] AQUA LAGUNA: PART 2 (NSFW)
Even if the trains had been running, it wouldn't have done Shuraiya any good -- he was broke from the morning's failed attempts at impressing his so-called friend. It didn't stop him, of course, from trekking all over town for lodging -- but, due to the storm (which had wetly begun to make itself known) they were all booked or boarded.
Finally, he just gave up and slogged into a bar, one of the last that was open and promptly got himself absolutely trashed on someone else's dime. When the bartender realized that the loudmouth brat in gold wasn't going to shut up nor pay up, he did the sensible thing: he threw Shuraiya out.
The boy landed heavily on the wet street, not quite registering for a moment his change in elevation. He lifted himself up and yelled something unintelligible through a mouthful of rainwater and bile toward no one in particular; his bag was thrown out after him and ended the tirade as something hard made contact with his skull. Shuraiya promptly and quietly dropped back to the slick cobbles without another complaint.
Darkened skies littered with droplets quickly became streaked with rain, followed by the crackling churn of thunder clouds. Beneath a blackened sky the whole of Water 7 prepared for the onslaught that would arrive by the next morning. The companies worked with the lower half of the city, to secure the sea lines before sealing up the shipyards. Footsteps on wet cobblestone were drowned beneath the heavenly torrents as Lucci walked the streets alone. He had sent Hattori home a few hours earlier, when the rain had finally begun to fall less favorably.
Something seemed out of place. Lucci scanned the flooded stone roads until his eyes rested upon a dirty pile; the thing lay motionless, just outside an establishment long since boarded shut. Beneath the smell of dirt and rain came a faint, familiar scent. He contemplated ignoring the entire situation a few moments before his legs decided to walk towards the bar's back alley. He unfavorably peered down as the hard leather sole of his shoe nudged at the crumpled mess.
The crumpled mess gave a sickened groan when the leather dug into its side. "Leave me alone, goddamn--" A dirty hand lifted and gripped Lucci's ankle, hard. Slowly, groggily, Shuraiya's tousled head rose from its comfortable pillow of stones to look at his assailant. "Oh fucking god, not you. You've done enough today, thank you."
Without his bird, Lucci was left speechless but the disgusting remark his eyes were conveying as he looked down upon the bounty hunter. Shuraiya was a mess. He nearly complied with the drunken boy's request, but decided to stick around a little longer - out of curiosity, certainly not concern.
Humorlessly, Shuraiya returned the grimace. "If you're not gonna leave, then help me." He spoke more to Lucci's knees than anything, finding it too dizzying to look up for too long. "I haven't got anywhere to stay during this stupid storm. The hotels are booked, you have my fucking ship, and I'm broke."
Lucci's leg jerked out of Shuraiya's grip, sending the drunk back to the stones beneath him. He took his hands out of his pockets and turned away from the pitiful sight at his feet. His eyes quickly found the watery path he'd been following home and took a few steps toward it, before a twitch in his left hand stopped his footfalls.
Shuraiya let both his head and his hand drop; he wasn't sure if he was grateful to have been rid of the only friend he had on this godforsaken island or not, but he did know for sure that he didn't really care.
Suddenly the ground was torn away from Shuraiya, or he from it - he could barely discern as his body was wrenched from the icy stone walkway. The sharp grip on his forearm loosened and a strong arm circled the lanky male's soaked torso. As if carrying nothing, Lucci half dragged the boy with one arm and carried Shuraiya's discarded bag with another.
He didn't know where he was being dragged to, nor did he ask, knowing the question would go unanswered. Lucci's strength was formidable (that is, if Shuraiya had been able to string together the word 'formidable' at the time) as he carried him clear across Water Seven -- where had he gained such strength?
Both questions were forgotten when they arrived somewhere warm and dry. The boy was dragged to and dropped in the shower, jacket unzipped, boots removed-- a dry towel was unceremoniously tossed at him with a silent command. Bleerily, Shuraiya began to dry himself off, realizing with a start where they were: Lucci's place.
The dark-haired man had left his guest for more favorable company. Lucci found his bird comfortably resting atop his bedroom dresser. He stroked Hattori's white feathered head and scratched beneath the bird's wing - something Hattori loved before bedtime. Lucci pulled the suspenders from his aching shoulders and let them drop against his thighs. In the first drawer he found the spare wifebeaters he'd thankfully washed the day before.
Sooner, rather than later, Shuraiya managed to dry himself off-- mostly. His pants were soaked through as though he'd jumped in a canal, and there was no comfort to be found in the heavy, wet things. Drying his hair with the towel, he walked into the bedroom (after a wrong turn into the kitchen) to ask for a spare pair of pants to wear-- but his voice caught in his throat at the sight that greeted him.
Lucci was in the middle of pulling his wet wifebeater off; the fabric was thin and translucent now, revealing scars Shuraiya never noticed before. Captivated and stupid, he closed the distance between them and grabbed Lucci's hips with the grace of a drunkard. His head bowed to brush cold lips against the marred flesh, his kiss reverent and wanting.
Once completely free of his soaking shirt, Lucci tossed the wet garment across the room and exhaled slowly. He was tired, and hadn't brought the boy back for that sort of affection. Really, he still wasn't completely sure why he'd assisted Shuraiya at all. Lucci could end a dozen lives with one hand without so much as a change of expression. The carpenter's brow furrowed. It wasn't as if he'd felt guilt, or sympathy.
Lucci pushed past Shuraiya and sauntered back to adjacent bathroom. He grabbed a clean towel and rubbed it over his smooth arms, his chest, then proceeded to dry his hair.
Shuraiya followed doggedly, addicted to that flesh after barely tasting it-- he grabbed him, strong in his own right, and forced a kiss on the plump, emotionless lips. "Let me," he demanded when Lucci resisted, "Let me."
The boy had a grip that surprised Lucci, but an attitude that did not. Lucci shoved the towel at his guest and pried a few strong fingers off his hip. He should've anticipated the current situation; it wasn't the first time some drunken, depressed seafarer had pulled the moves on Lucci - not even the first time in his house. Shuraiya's breath was laced with booze and cheap food. Lucci huffed and turned his head sideways, feeling Shuraiya's clumsy, drunken mouth drag across his reddened cheek.
Undeterred, Shuraiya grabbed a handful of dark, damp hair at the nape of Lucci's neck, mouth grazing his jaw, then a sideburn, then the shell of his ear-- there, he bit, fingers carding through the curls. He was desperate for the intimacy, however false or forced; he just needed it, after all this time alone and longing.
A fist dug into the unzipped front of Shuraiya's coat but quickly uncurled, as Lucci's head was yanked back. Shuraiya's lips traced the curve of an earlobe, then bared teeth Lucci imagined were ready to sink in and savor every inch of him. God, what was he doing? Again, the boy was pushed away, and Lucci stepped into the hall; he knew his guest would waste no time following.
Shuraiya, of course, followed as though led by a string; this time, he had Lucci pinned against the wall, a knee forcibly parting the shipwright's, desperate hands grasping thin wrists. He kissed him hard, graceless, desperate-- let me, let me, let me, goddamn you.
He should have left the bounty hunter in the gutters, and never become involved. He should have ignored him in the street that morning. But in his gut he felt an all too familiar knot. Air filled Lucci's lungs and he held it there, unable to exhale as Shuraiya's hand rubbed clumsily over the front of black slacks.
Lucci's bone white fingers were splayed, unsure of their next action, across the boy's exposed chest. The carpenter silently questioned his original intentions. Shuraiya's tongue pushed across Lucci's bottom lip; the taste was coppery and bitter, and the familiarity was not fond. Lucci shoved Shuraiya not soon enough; the boy blurted out a choked gurgle, before emptying the contents of his gut onto Lucci's pants and shoes.
Lucci ran a hand through his tangled mass of black curls. Bending over to grasp a limp wrist, his mouth curled with disdain as the smell of vomit and booze assaulted his nostrils. He looked down at the collapsed bounty hunter and let out a heavy sigh. What a night this had turned out to be...
Fortunately, Shuraiya had at least managed to collapse half way back to the couch, which was where Lucci was placing him for the remainder of the night. He had until morning to decide whether his guest would wake up to breakfast or the unforgiving waves of Aqua Laguna - throwing him out seemed the more tolerable long term plan. Lucci tossed a blanket over the drunken fool and grumpily made his way back to the bathroom. At least now he could shower in peace.
Shuraiya spent the night where he was left on the couch-- it was, as a matter of fact, one of the best nights of sleep he'd had in a while. He slept best in houses (or so he thought) rather than inns or hostels; they were too transient, while homes were permanent, stable.
However, the boy's legs weren't so in the morning; he was still rather drunk when he awoke and stumbled through the unfamiliar flat to find the bathroom. Having found it, he went about his business and washed his face, feeling-- if not less drunk, at least more aware-- slightly better. He stepped out, catching sight of Lucci in bed, still asleep (despite the noise the bounty hunter was making and the racket outside) and made a beeline for him.
Lucci's eyes opened as if a bomb had gone off in his pillow. If he could have, he would've woken up cursing at the filthy beast that had jumped onto his clean bed. Bleary eyed and exhausted from the night before, he waved an arm at Shuraiya until it connected with a dirty yellow coat; Lucci gripped and yanked Shuraiya away before the intruder could plant an alcohol-imbibed smooch on a pair of very displeased lips.
A yank of his jacket wasn't going to stop Shuraiya this morning; he'd recovered more than (some of) his sobriety and swiftly regained his footing on the bed. He pushed Lucci down against the blankets, teeth grazing the jutting curve of a clavicle while slender fingers busied themselves in the black curls.
Lucci huffed and pulled at a hand tangled in his morning mess of curly hair. He was still half awake after working endlessly for most of the previous day, not to mention his secret late night agenda... but it was best not to think of that when he was supposed to be playing the company man. Not that it had helped him at all, having a drunken boy demanding much of his time. Lucci stared up at the ceiling and tiredly pushed at Shuraiya, but not really putting much effort behind his actions. He'd dealt with the same scenario with one of his fellow carpenters; best to get it over with.
Maybe it was something Shuraiya had wanted since they'd met, or maybe it was a desire that only arose the day before-- it didn't make much of a difference to Shuraiya when it began, only that he was going to finally bank on it. He pushed the hands shoving him aside, focusing his attentions on the other man's cold, cold skin, savoring the way it heated under his lips to something that almost resembled human warmth.
Lucci's half lidded gaze followed his hands, as they returned to Shuraiya's undone coat and pushed it away from the boy's chest. Small specks and lines littered the boy's torso like bullets on a battlefield. Lucci recognized those scars as if they belonged on his own body; they were separate accounts of everything he'd experienced, his own personal history. Quickly he pushed them out of his thoughts as he turned to the side, offering his neck to the boy's hungry lips.
Shuraiya took the offering without hesitation, kissing the pale column of his throat with searing lips, muffling quiet, soft growls against Lucci's pulse. He didn't want to just fuck the older man; he wanted to enjoy him. Strong, thin arms wrapped around him, pulling him up and against the mouth so fervently attacking his neck, his shoulders, his lips.
The way the boy's mouth attacked his flesh, the excitement and lust and almost pitiful need, was making it difficult for Lucci to remind himself that he wasn't actually supposed to be enjoying it. Dirty fingernails dragged across the small of his back. Lucci's hand shot up and gripped the back of Shuraiya's scalp.
That brought a deep, throaty growl to Shuraiya's lips and he gave another pull across Lucci's back, calloused fingertips skipping over and tracing the thick, rough scars with nothing but veneration. He pressed hard against Lucci, straddling narrow hips and peppering kisses across a tattooed shoulder, wondering where the objections were now.
The carpenter's rough fingers showed no sign of prior disputes, and neither did the hitched breath Lucci produced, as teeth once again marred his pale complexion. A hand slid over Shuraiya's shoulder and slipped past the oversized collar of his coat; the fingertips pressed into Shuraiya's back and memorized every inch of flesh they could reach. Shuraiya's body was pushing him to his side, but beneath the pale sheets Lucci's heels dug into the mattress, not quite ready to completely cease resistance.
Shuraiya arched into Lucci's touch with a breathy, shuddering moan-- he'd missed this so, so fucking much. All the nights he'd spent alone, desperate for the warm hands and heated breath of a man who had forgotten him had finally caught up to the boy; he just needed someone. Someone to covet and tease and kiss and claim; he wanted to feel that wholeness again.
Lucci couldn't quite understand what it was that seemed so different about Shuraiya. The desperation was nothing new (hell, the half drunken, gutter smell had stopped being new after the first few months in Water 7), but there was still more than booze fueling their encounter. The ravenous bites and ridiculous determination only slightly showed Shuraiya for what he was - but it was something Lucci had not yet sampled.
It could have very possibly been that, Shuraiya, despite whatever experiences he claimed, was still a boy. Possibly a very clever boy, Lucci silently noted as a hand brushed against his thigh.
Shuraiya shifted and began kissing a trail down Lucci's taut, muscled belly, shaggy hair falling into his face as his lips neared their mark. He nuzzled the drawstring of his pajamas, giving it an experimental tug with his teeth before abandoning it, far more interested in what the thin cloth barely hid.
Shuraiya mouthed over his cock, groaning as he felt it harden against the cotton, delighting immensely in the reaction Lucci's body had when his face revealed no such thing.
Oh, a very clever boy, Lucci surmised and fought the urge to bite his lower lip. Long fingers raked through Shuraiya's messy auburn hair. Lucci was quite pleased when he finally shook off the grime-covered yellow coat - even more pleased when Shuraiya managed to do it without lifting those delicious lips from their somewhat satisfied target.
Shuraiya's teeth caught on the waistband of Lucci's pants and tugged, pulling them just enough to reveal his cock. While greedy fingers strayed lower, his mouth remained where it was, kissing, licking, sucking with desperate resolution. He let Lucci direct him, tilting when he tugged, moaning soft against the hard flesh when his grip tightened.
Lucci jerked up into Shuraiya's possessive fingers, and tongue, and lips, but quickly composed himself. It had been a while since anyone had done something even remotely close to what the boy's mouth was threatening to do to him- his coworker's fumbled attempts at a handjob last company party hardly counted. Lucci finally bit his lower lip, and stroked Shuraiya's hair as the boy stroked him in far more favorable places.
Every little crack, every fissure in Lucci's stoic mask drove Shuraiya wild-- he couldn't take this much longer. He pulled away, sucking the precum off with a wet, crooked grin. He crawled up the man's supine form like a cat, kissing hotly here and there, wherever he pleased. He growled, low, "I wanna fuck you. Tell me where you've got lube, lotion, anything-- I want you on your knees."
In a smooth, emotionless move, the carpenter dragged open the drawer on a small bedside table. Lucci's other hand grabbed the front of Shuraiya's filthy pants and pushed the button free with his thumb. He had almost forgotten the boy's real motives, regardless of how similar they were to every shipwright who tried pulling him down a darkened alley, or into a cheap hotel. It always came down to fucking, Lucci mused. The sea really must be a lonely place. The boy had offered some amusing foreplay beforehand, at least.
Shuraiya crawled over Lucci, stretching to reach into the drawer. He rooted around for a moment before his fingers closed around a small bottle. With his prize in hand, he slipped back to join the stoic, gorgeous creature beneath him. "On your knees?"
Lucci's hand shot up and tightened around Shuraiya's slender wrist. His cold eyes stared up into Shuraiya's and reminded him just whose bed they were still occupying.
Shuraiya jerked his wrist from Lucci's grasp and stood over him, dropping the lube on the bed beside the other man. He toyed with the open zipper of his pants and slid it down, watching his dark eyes follow -- almost without detection -- the movement.
"You can watch all you like," he smirked, sliding the loose pants over his thin hips. "Pervert."
Lucci's bleary eyes slowly blinked. The dark garment slid past bony hips and promptly dropped to the bed, not hindered in the least by Shuraiya's slim legs. To hell with it, now he was going to enjoy it. Lucci slid a hand up the bounty hunter's muscled calf and watched for whatever his guest was going to do next.
Shuraiya smirked, tilting his head just a tad as he reached down, tugging his worn boxers down to reveal his erection-- thick and hard, it fit perfectly into his hand as he stroked it, just for show. Lucci watched, sucking his lower lip with a little shudder that he didn't bother to repress-- damned if this boy didn't know what he was doing.
"Touch it." Shuraiya commanded huskily, and Lucci slid the hand from the boy's calf to his cock, pushing Shuraiya's hand (at least, in his opinion) impatiently away. He watched his face, thin fingers pumping experimentally, slow, quick-- until Shuraiya couldn't stand it any longer. "G-go. On your knees. Fuck, I n--need to fuck you. Right now."
Lucci didn't move. Shuraiya's smile faltered for only a split-second and he grabbed a handful of dark hair and tugged. "Do it, Lucci. Get on your knees."
The sharp yank had thrown Lucci's face in profile. His grip uncurled from the thick muscle between Shuraiya's legs and retreated against soft, pouted lips. A pink tongue darted out and savored the boy's salted flavor, then the hand moved to the bed.
Shuraiya nearly decided to fuck that mouth instead-- but Lucci pulled back, as if asking-- no, demanding-- more direction. The boy dropped to his knees and tugged at the pants still hanging onto Lucci's thighs until they were off and threw them aside. He pulled him up (he was heavier than Shuraiya expected, but not unmanageable) onto his knees, pulling him flush against his chest. "You're a fucking tease," He murmured into an ear, then bit the curve of neck just beneath it, hands roving the warming body against him.
The way he clung to and explored the carpenter's body, Lucci knew the boy desperately craved intimacy; he was probably a closet romantic as well. But the body pressed against him was strong, and energetic, and hard for him - despite being completely inebriated a few hours prior. The hands that traced his flesh were rough and clumsy, but determined. The benefits of youth, Lucci surmised, could prove useful through the oncoming storm. Lucci exhaled, decided to give that mouth whatever access it needed, and tilted his head back against the boy's broad shoulder.
Shuraiya cupped his jaw as he tilted back, meeting Lucci halfway and kissing him slow and hard; he drew away, his breathing shallow as he shoved him onto his elbows. Holding Lucci down with one hand, he retrieved the bottle and uncorked it with his teeth, spitting the stopper aside to join the rest of their discarded clothes.
Hips to ass, he slicked his fingers with the lube until he was satisfied. Looming over Lucci, he trailed his wet fingers down his cleft to his entrance; he pushed two in, there was no more time for slowness.
Lucci inhaled sharply and bit his lower lip. They were finally getting down to business, and god help him, he couldn't help but be a little thankful. His cock ached as it hung between his tense thighs, and the fingers inside him were deftly working him into a frenzied state (behind his still calm facade). For the second time that morning, Lucci wished he could curse at Shuraiya.
Shuraiya felt Lucci tighten around his fingers-- even if Lucci couldn't (or wouldn't) say a thing, he knew he had to be doing something right. He pulled out, catching a faint sigh from the other man-- was he relieved, or impatient? Shuraiya readied himself, slicking on lube before positioning himself, a hand on his cock and the other on Lucci's ass-- he thrust hard, groaning deep as he forced himself in. "Fffffuuuck, Lucci-- god, you're-- you're so hot, goddamn."
Lucci stifled a grunt as his guest wasted no time completely ramming himself inside the man's body. He propped himself on an elbow and reached back to grab one side of his ass. Once the boy managed to fill him to the hilt, Lucci looked back with his darkened, half-lidded eyes.
That look was all it took to get Shuraiya going-- his hips moved roughly, slow for just a beat before quickening into a desperate, erratic rhythm. He pulled Lucci's hips to meet his thrusts, the wet, slick sound of him fucking him absolutely intoxicating. Once the other man's hips began to move unbidden, he leaned over Lucci, long arms circling his to grasp the cold hands gripping the sheets. He muffled a moan against Lucci's shoulder, biting hard into the taut muscle with a desperate ferocity.
Lucci's hand grasped Shuraiya's flushed body, digging fingernails into the flesh of the other male's side in a silent command to continue. His jaw went slack and his composure was nearly destroyed as the young man's pace intensified. Collapsing to a shoulder, his free arm stretched across his belly, Lucci's pulled at the aggravating tension between his own legs. His fingers were slick within seconds, his body shuddering at the erratic, greedy pace the boy was setting for him.
Shuraiya didn't even notice Lucci's hands sneaking out from under his-- he was too busy peppering feverish kisses across his back. One hand was gripping the head of the bed, the other looped around Lucci, grasping a shoulder and forcing him to take the boy's cock harder, deeper, faster. Nothing mattered to him, not the storm, not his loneliness nor his past, in that moment-- he let his mind go blank and completely let himself go. Right now, he wasn't the Pirate Executioner, he wasn't the boy who had been forced to grow up too fast and live by killing; he was as he should have been: a horny teenage boy in desperate need of a good fuck.
The carpenter beneath Shuraiya seemed out for a similar result. Lucci's hips jerked back as the boy rode him relentlessly, forcing his knees further into the mattress. His fingernails dragged over a bony hip and dug into the boy's thick backside. Both bodies were erratically gasping for breath, burning and pouring sweat from the fever that had overcome them.
The flushed lips of Lucci's gasping mouth opened wider in a silent groan. He came in his own hand and felt the hot, white liquid seep between both their fingers. His grip slackened, but the boy was far from finished. Shuraiya was forcing him open and screwing him as hard as he could, shoving inside until his thighs rubbed against Lucci's. Black curls clung to his sweat drenched face as Lucci's breaths were reduced to ragged drawls.
Shuraiya just kept up the pace, fucking the beautiful, spent body beneath him over and over-- he buried his face against a shoulder, breathing shallow and ragged, hands groping for any part of Lucci he could claim as waves of pleasure rolled over the boy. A string of curses, half-lost in the boy's wailing and groaning, issued from his reddened lips as he came, filling Lucci with heat.
Eyes closed and mouth hungrily inhaling, Lucci released his grip on Shuraiya. The carpenter's teeth clenched tightly as the boy pulled out, leaving him filled with the heat of their encounter. Lucci's knees finally gave out and their soaked bodies collapsed onto the mattress. Shuraiya remained draped on him. Lucci simply lay on the mattress for several moments and caught his breath.
As Shuraiya laid there, breath slowing, post-coital shudders wracking his tired frame, a heavy, nauseating sense of nostalgia came over him. He nuzzled against Lucci's hair, only feeling worse for having done so. He smelled like wood, sex, blood-- nothing like James had. Their only similarity was the scent of the sea, heady and free, but-- he squeezed Lucci, unintentionally, embracing him with a sad sort of sigh. He had to go and get sentimental now, didn't he? Fucking idiot.
Lucci licked his lips and stared ahead at the side of his nightstand. The half-covered bedroom window cast a blue light across it, like a knife carving into the wood. The drawer had been left open. He tiredly reached out and shut it. He was more awake now than he had been a few moments earlier, and felt uneasy at the strangely emotional post-coital clinging. Lucci was not the cuddling type. He shifted from under the arm draped across his torso, and slowly sat upright on the edge of the bed.
Shuraiya voiced no complaint, happy to let him up-- he remained on his side, watching Lucci pensively. "Would you mind if I took a shower?" His voice was low, raspy from the heavy breathing. Not to mention awkward; he was never very good at pillow talk, "If I could borrow something to wear, that'd... be great."
Lucci scratched at his scalp and pushed wet strands of hair from his face. He wouldn't mind at all if Shuraiya took a shower. Actually, he'd love it. Beneath the delicious scent of sex, the boy still reeked of booze and grime. Lucci made a few lethargic gestures to the dresser - where Hattori still perched in blissful slumber - then to the bathroom. Pale fingers splayed over his flushed chest as he contemplated his own potential need for another shower. He could feel Shuraiya's seed trickling out of him, and it made him feel extremely dirty. Lucci's thumb grazed an erect nipple, which sent an electric shock through his brain that made him wince.
It would have to be a cold shower.
Finally, he just gave up and slogged into a bar, one of the last that was open and promptly got himself absolutely trashed on someone else's dime. When the bartender realized that the loudmouth brat in gold wasn't going to shut up nor pay up, he did the sensible thing: he threw Shuraiya out.
The boy landed heavily on the wet street, not quite registering for a moment his change in elevation. He lifted himself up and yelled something unintelligible through a mouthful of rainwater and bile toward no one in particular; his bag was thrown out after him and ended the tirade as something hard made contact with his skull. Shuraiya promptly and quietly dropped back to the slick cobbles without another complaint.
Darkened skies littered with droplets quickly became streaked with rain, followed by the crackling churn of thunder clouds. Beneath a blackened sky the whole of Water 7 prepared for the onslaught that would arrive by the next morning. The companies worked with the lower half of the city, to secure the sea lines before sealing up the shipyards. Footsteps on wet cobblestone were drowned beneath the heavenly torrents as Lucci walked the streets alone. He had sent Hattori home a few hours earlier, when the rain had finally begun to fall less favorably.
Something seemed out of place. Lucci scanned the flooded stone roads until his eyes rested upon a dirty pile; the thing lay motionless, just outside an establishment long since boarded shut. Beneath the smell of dirt and rain came a faint, familiar scent. He contemplated ignoring the entire situation a few moments before his legs decided to walk towards the bar's back alley. He unfavorably peered down as the hard leather sole of his shoe nudged at the crumpled mess.
The crumpled mess gave a sickened groan when the leather dug into its side. "Leave me alone, goddamn--" A dirty hand lifted and gripped Lucci's ankle, hard. Slowly, groggily, Shuraiya's tousled head rose from its comfortable pillow of stones to look at his assailant. "Oh fucking god, not you. You've done enough today, thank you."
Without his bird, Lucci was left speechless but the disgusting remark his eyes were conveying as he looked down upon the bounty hunter. Shuraiya was a mess. He nearly complied with the drunken boy's request, but decided to stick around a little longer - out of curiosity, certainly not concern.
Humorlessly, Shuraiya returned the grimace. "If you're not gonna leave, then help me." He spoke more to Lucci's knees than anything, finding it too dizzying to look up for too long. "I haven't got anywhere to stay during this stupid storm. The hotels are booked, you have my fucking ship, and I'm broke."
Lucci's leg jerked out of Shuraiya's grip, sending the drunk back to the stones beneath him. He took his hands out of his pockets and turned away from the pitiful sight at his feet. His eyes quickly found the watery path he'd been following home and took a few steps toward it, before a twitch in his left hand stopped his footfalls.
Shuraiya let both his head and his hand drop; he wasn't sure if he was grateful to have been rid of the only friend he had on this godforsaken island or not, but he did know for sure that he didn't really care.
Suddenly the ground was torn away from Shuraiya, or he from it - he could barely discern as his body was wrenched from the icy stone walkway. The sharp grip on his forearm loosened and a strong arm circled the lanky male's soaked torso. As if carrying nothing, Lucci half dragged the boy with one arm and carried Shuraiya's discarded bag with another.
He didn't know where he was being dragged to, nor did he ask, knowing the question would go unanswered. Lucci's strength was formidable (that is, if Shuraiya had been able to string together the word 'formidable' at the time) as he carried him clear across Water Seven -- where had he gained such strength?
Both questions were forgotten when they arrived somewhere warm and dry. The boy was dragged to and dropped in the shower, jacket unzipped, boots removed-- a dry towel was unceremoniously tossed at him with a silent command. Bleerily, Shuraiya began to dry himself off, realizing with a start where they were: Lucci's place.
The dark-haired man had left his guest for more favorable company. Lucci found his bird comfortably resting atop his bedroom dresser. He stroked Hattori's white feathered head and scratched beneath the bird's wing - something Hattori loved before bedtime. Lucci pulled the suspenders from his aching shoulders and let them drop against his thighs. In the first drawer he found the spare wifebeaters he'd thankfully washed the day before.
Sooner, rather than later, Shuraiya managed to dry himself off-- mostly. His pants were soaked through as though he'd jumped in a canal, and there was no comfort to be found in the heavy, wet things. Drying his hair with the towel, he walked into the bedroom (after a wrong turn into the kitchen) to ask for a spare pair of pants to wear-- but his voice caught in his throat at the sight that greeted him.
Lucci was in the middle of pulling his wet wifebeater off; the fabric was thin and translucent now, revealing scars Shuraiya never noticed before. Captivated and stupid, he closed the distance between them and grabbed Lucci's hips with the grace of a drunkard. His head bowed to brush cold lips against the marred flesh, his kiss reverent and wanting.
Once completely free of his soaking shirt, Lucci tossed the wet garment across the room and exhaled slowly. He was tired, and hadn't brought the boy back for that sort of affection. Really, he still wasn't completely sure why he'd assisted Shuraiya at all. Lucci could end a dozen lives with one hand without so much as a change of expression. The carpenter's brow furrowed. It wasn't as if he'd felt guilt, or sympathy.
Lucci pushed past Shuraiya and sauntered back to adjacent bathroom. He grabbed a clean towel and rubbed it over his smooth arms, his chest, then proceeded to dry his hair.
Shuraiya followed doggedly, addicted to that flesh after barely tasting it-- he grabbed him, strong in his own right, and forced a kiss on the plump, emotionless lips. "Let me," he demanded when Lucci resisted, "Let me."
The boy had a grip that surprised Lucci, but an attitude that did not. Lucci shoved the towel at his guest and pried a few strong fingers off his hip. He should've anticipated the current situation; it wasn't the first time some drunken, depressed seafarer had pulled the moves on Lucci - not even the first time in his house. Shuraiya's breath was laced with booze and cheap food. Lucci huffed and turned his head sideways, feeling Shuraiya's clumsy, drunken mouth drag across his reddened cheek.
Undeterred, Shuraiya grabbed a handful of dark, damp hair at the nape of Lucci's neck, mouth grazing his jaw, then a sideburn, then the shell of his ear-- there, he bit, fingers carding through the curls. He was desperate for the intimacy, however false or forced; he just needed it, after all this time alone and longing.
A fist dug into the unzipped front of Shuraiya's coat but quickly uncurled, as Lucci's head was yanked back. Shuraiya's lips traced the curve of an earlobe, then bared teeth Lucci imagined were ready to sink in and savor every inch of him. God, what was he doing? Again, the boy was pushed away, and Lucci stepped into the hall; he knew his guest would waste no time following.
Shuraiya, of course, followed as though led by a string; this time, he had Lucci pinned against the wall, a knee forcibly parting the shipwright's, desperate hands grasping thin wrists. He kissed him hard, graceless, desperate-- let me, let me, let me, goddamn you.
He should have left the bounty hunter in the gutters, and never become involved. He should have ignored him in the street that morning. But in his gut he felt an all too familiar knot. Air filled Lucci's lungs and he held it there, unable to exhale as Shuraiya's hand rubbed clumsily over the front of black slacks.
Lucci's bone white fingers were splayed, unsure of their next action, across the boy's exposed chest. The carpenter silently questioned his original intentions. Shuraiya's tongue pushed across Lucci's bottom lip; the taste was coppery and bitter, and the familiarity was not fond. Lucci shoved Shuraiya not soon enough; the boy blurted out a choked gurgle, before emptying the contents of his gut onto Lucci's pants and shoes.
Lucci ran a hand through his tangled mass of black curls. Bending over to grasp a limp wrist, his mouth curled with disdain as the smell of vomit and booze assaulted his nostrils. He looked down at the collapsed bounty hunter and let out a heavy sigh. What a night this had turned out to be...
Fortunately, Shuraiya had at least managed to collapse half way back to the couch, which was where Lucci was placing him for the remainder of the night. He had until morning to decide whether his guest would wake up to breakfast or the unforgiving waves of Aqua Laguna - throwing him out seemed the more tolerable long term plan. Lucci tossed a blanket over the drunken fool and grumpily made his way back to the bathroom. At least now he could shower in peace.
Shuraiya spent the night where he was left on the couch-- it was, as a matter of fact, one of the best nights of sleep he'd had in a while. He slept best in houses (or so he thought) rather than inns or hostels; they were too transient, while homes were permanent, stable.
However, the boy's legs weren't so in the morning; he was still rather drunk when he awoke and stumbled through the unfamiliar flat to find the bathroom. Having found it, he went about his business and washed his face, feeling-- if not less drunk, at least more aware-- slightly better. He stepped out, catching sight of Lucci in bed, still asleep (despite the noise the bounty hunter was making and the racket outside) and made a beeline for him.
Lucci's eyes opened as if a bomb had gone off in his pillow. If he could have, he would've woken up cursing at the filthy beast that had jumped onto his clean bed. Bleary eyed and exhausted from the night before, he waved an arm at Shuraiya until it connected with a dirty yellow coat; Lucci gripped and yanked Shuraiya away before the intruder could plant an alcohol-imbibed smooch on a pair of very displeased lips.
A yank of his jacket wasn't going to stop Shuraiya this morning; he'd recovered more than (some of) his sobriety and swiftly regained his footing on the bed. He pushed Lucci down against the blankets, teeth grazing the jutting curve of a clavicle while slender fingers busied themselves in the black curls.
Lucci huffed and pulled at a hand tangled in his morning mess of curly hair. He was still half awake after working endlessly for most of the previous day, not to mention his secret late night agenda... but it was best not to think of that when he was supposed to be playing the company man. Not that it had helped him at all, having a drunken boy demanding much of his time. Lucci stared up at the ceiling and tiredly pushed at Shuraiya, but not really putting much effort behind his actions. He'd dealt with the same scenario with one of his fellow carpenters; best to get it over with.
Maybe it was something Shuraiya had wanted since they'd met, or maybe it was a desire that only arose the day before-- it didn't make much of a difference to Shuraiya when it began, only that he was going to finally bank on it. He pushed the hands shoving him aside, focusing his attentions on the other man's cold, cold skin, savoring the way it heated under his lips to something that almost resembled human warmth.
Lucci's half lidded gaze followed his hands, as they returned to Shuraiya's undone coat and pushed it away from the boy's chest. Small specks and lines littered the boy's torso like bullets on a battlefield. Lucci recognized those scars as if they belonged on his own body; they were separate accounts of everything he'd experienced, his own personal history. Quickly he pushed them out of his thoughts as he turned to the side, offering his neck to the boy's hungry lips.
Shuraiya took the offering without hesitation, kissing the pale column of his throat with searing lips, muffling quiet, soft growls against Lucci's pulse. He didn't want to just fuck the older man; he wanted to enjoy him. Strong, thin arms wrapped around him, pulling him up and against the mouth so fervently attacking his neck, his shoulders, his lips.
The way the boy's mouth attacked his flesh, the excitement and lust and almost pitiful need, was making it difficult for Lucci to remind himself that he wasn't actually supposed to be enjoying it. Dirty fingernails dragged across the small of his back. Lucci's hand shot up and gripped the back of Shuraiya's scalp.
That brought a deep, throaty growl to Shuraiya's lips and he gave another pull across Lucci's back, calloused fingertips skipping over and tracing the thick, rough scars with nothing but veneration. He pressed hard against Lucci, straddling narrow hips and peppering kisses across a tattooed shoulder, wondering where the objections were now.
The carpenter's rough fingers showed no sign of prior disputes, and neither did the hitched breath Lucci produced, as teeth once again marred his pale complexion. A hand slid over Shuraiya's shoulder and slipped past the oversized collar of his coat; the fingertips pressed into Shuraiya's back and memorized every inch of flesh they could reach. Shuraiya's body was pushing him to his side, but beneath the pale sheets Lucci's heels dug into the mattress, not quite ready to completely cease resistance.
Shuraiya arched into Lucci's touch with a breathy, shuddering moan-- he'd missed this so, so fucking much. All the nights he'd spent alone, desperate for the warm hands and heated breath of a man who had forgotten him had finally caught up to the boy; he just needed someone. Someone to covet and tease and kiss and claim; he wanted to feel that wholeness again.
Lucci couldn't quite understand what it was that seemed so different about Shuraiya. The desperation was nothing new (hell, the half drunken, gutter smell had stopped being new after the first few months in Water 7), but there was still more than booze fueling their encounter. The ravenous bites and ridiculous determination only slightly showed Shuraiya for what he was - but it was something Lucci had not yet sampled.
It could have very possibly been that, Shuraiya, despite whatever experiences he claimed, was still a boy. Possibly a very clever boy, Lucci silently noted as a hand brushed against his thigh.
Shuraiya shifted and began kissing a trail down Lucci's taut, muscled belly, shaggy hair falling into his face as his lips neared their mark. He nuzzled the drawstring of his pajamas, giving it an experimental tug with his teeth before abandoning it, far more interested in what the thin cloth barely hid.
Shuraiya mouthed over his cock, groaning as he felt it harden against the cotton, delighting immensely in the reaction Lucci's body had when his face revealed no such thing.
Oh, a very clever boy, Lucci surmised and fought the urge to bite his lower lip. Long fingers raked through Shuraiya's messy auburn hair. Lucci was quite pleased when he finally shook off the grime-covered yellow coat - even more pleased when Shuraiya managed to do it without lifting those delicious lips from their somewhat satisfied target.
Shuraiya's teeth caught on the waistband of Lucci's pants and tugged, pulling them just enough to reveal his cock. While greedy fingers strayed lower, his mouth remained where it was, kissing, licking, sucking with desperate resolution. He let Lucci direct him, tilting when he tugged, moaning soft against the hard flesh when his grip tightened.
Lucci jerked up into Shuraiya's possessive fingers, and tongue, and lips, but quickly composed himself. It had been a while since anyone had done something even remotely close to what the boy's mouth was threatening to do to him- his coworker's fumbled attempts at a handjob last company party hardly counted. Lucci finally bit his lower lip, and stroked Shuraiya's hair as the boy stroked him in far more favorable places.
Every little crack, every fissure in Lucci's stoic mask drove Shuraiya wild-- he couldn't take this much longer. He pulled away, sucking the precum off with a wet, crooked grin. He crawled up the man's supine form like a cat, kissing hotly here and there, wherever he pleased. He growled, low, "I wanna fuck you. Tell me where you've got lube, lotion, anything-- I want you on your knees."
In a smooth, emotionless move, the carpenter dragged open the drawer on a small bedside table. Lucci's other hand grabbed the front of Shuraiya's filthy pants and pushed the button free with his thumb. He had almost forgotten the boy's real motives, regardless of how similar they were to every shipwright who tried pulling him down a darkened alley, or into a cheap hotel. It always came down to fucking, Lucci mused. The sea really must be a lonely place. The boy had offered some amusing foreplay beforehand, at least.
Shuraiya crawled over Lucci, stretching to reach into the drawer. He rooted around for a moment before his fingers closed around a small bottle. With his prize in hand, he slipped back to join the stoic, gorgeous creature beneath him. "On your knees?"
Lucci's hand shot up and tightened around Shuraiya's slender wrist. His cold eyes stared up into Shuraiya's and reminded him just whose bed they were still occupying.
Shuraiya jerked his wrist from Lucci's grasp and stood over him, dropping the lube on the bed beside the other man. He toyed with the open zipper of his pants and slid it down, watching his dark eyes follow -- almost without detection -- the movement.
"You can watch all you like," he smirked, sliding the loose pants over his thin hips. "Pervert."
Lucci's bleary eyes slowly blinked. The dark garment slid past bony hips and promptly dropped to the bed, not hindered in the least by Shuraiya's slim legs. To hell with it, now he was going to enjoy it. Lucci slid a hand up the bounty hunter's muscled calf and watched for whatever his guest was going to do next.
Shuraiya smirked, tilting his head just a tad as he reached down, tugging his worn boxers down to reveal his erection-- thick and hard, it fit perfectly into his hand as he stroked it, just for show. Lucci watched, sucking his lower lip with a little shudder that he didn't bother to repress-- damned if this boy didn't know what he was doing.
"Touch it." Shuraiya commanded huskily, and Lucci slid the hand from the boy's calf to his cock, pushing Shuraiya's hand (at least, in his opinion) impatiently away. He watched his face, thin fingers pumping experimentally, slow, quick-- until Shuraiya couldn't stand it any longer. "G-go. On your knees. Fuck, I n--need to fuck you. Right now."
Lucci didn't move. Shuraiya's smile faltered for only a split-second and he grabbed a handful of dark hair and tugged. "Do it, Lucci. Get on your knees."
The sharp yank had thrown Lucci's face in profile. His grip uncurled from the thick muscle between Shuraiya's legs and retreated against soft, pouted lips. A pink tongue darted out and savored the boy's salted flavor, then the hand moved to the bed.
Shuraiya nearly decided to fuck that mouth instead-- but Lucci pulled back, as if asking-- no, demanding-- more direction. The boy dropped to his knees and tugged at the pants still hanging onto Lucci's thighs until they were off and threw them aside. He pulled him up (he was heavier than Shuraiya expected, but not unmanageable) onto his knees, pulling him flush against his chest. "You're a fucking tease," He murmured into an ear, then bit the curve of neck just beneath it, hands roving the warming body against him.
The way he clung to and explored the carpenter's body, Lucci knew the boy desperately craved intimacy; he was probably a closet romantic as well. But the body pressed against him was strong, and energetic, and hard for him - despite being completely inebriated a few hours prior. The hands that traced his flesh were rough and clumsy, but determined. The benefits of youth, Lucci surmised, could prove useful through the oncoming storm. Lucci exhaled, decided to give that mouth whatever access it needed, and tilted his head back against the boy's broad shoulder.
Shuraiya cupped his jaw as he tilted back, meeting Lucci halfway and kissing him slow and hard; he drew away, his breathing shallow as he shoved him onto his elbows. Holding Lucci down with one hand, he retrieved the bottle and uncorked it with his teeth, spitting the stopper aside to join the rest of their discarded clothes.
Hips to ass, he slicked his fingers with the lube until he was satisfied. Looming over Lucci, he trailed his wet fingers down his cleft to his entrance; he pushed two in, there was no more time for slowness.
Lucci inhaled sharply and bit his lower lip. They were finally getting down to business, and god help him, he couldn't help but be a little thankful. His cock ached as it hung between his tense thighs, and the fingers inside him were deftly working him into a frenzied state (behind his still calm facade). For the second time that morning, Lucci wished he could curse at Shuraiya.
Shuraiya felt Lucci tighten around his fingers-- even if Lucci couldn't (or wouldn't) say a thing, he knew he had to be doing something right. He pulled out, catching a faint sigh from the other man-- was he relieved, or impatient? Shuraiya readied himself, slicking on lube before positioning himself, a hand on his cock and the other on Lucci's ass-- he thrust hard, groaning deep as he forced himself in. "Fffffuuuck, Lucci-- god, you're-- you're so hot, goddamn."
Lucci stifled a grunt as his guest wasted no time completely ramming himself inside the man's body. He propped himself on an elbow and reached back to grab one side of his ass. Once the boy managed to fill him to the hilt, Lucci looked back with his darkened, half-lidded eyes.
That look was all it took to get Shuraiya going-- his hips moved roughly, slow for just a beat before quickening into a desperate, erratic rhythm. He pulled Lucci's hips to meet his thrusts, the wet, slick sound of him fucking him absolutely intoxicating. Once the other man's hips began to move unbidden, he leaned over Lucci, long arms circling his to grasp the cold hands gripping the sheets. He muffled a moan against Lucci's shoulder, biting hard into the taut muscle with a desperate ferocity.
Lucci's hand grasped Shuraiya's flushed body, digging fingernails into the flesh of the other male's side in a silent command to continue. His jaw went slack and his composure was nearly destroyed as the young man's pace intensified. Collapsing to a shoulder, his free arm stretched across his belly, Lucci's pulled at the aggravating tension between his own legs. His fingers were slick within seconds, his body shuddering at the erratic, greedy pace the boy was setting for him.
Shuraiya didn't even notice Lucci's hands sneaking out from under his-- he was too busy peppering feverish kisses across his back. One hand was gripping the head of the bed, the other looped around Lucci, grasping a shoulder and forcing him to take the boy's cock harder, deeper, faster. Nothing mattered to him, not the storm, not his loneliness nor his past, in that moment-- he let his mind go blank and completely let himself go. Right now, he wasn't the Pirate Executioner, he wasn't the boy who had been forced to grow up too fast and live by killing; he was as he should have been: a horny teenage boy in desperate need of a good fuck.
The carpenter beneath Shuraiya seemed out for a similar result. Lucci's hips jerked back as the boy rode him relentlessly, forcing his knees further into the mattress. His fingernails dragged over a bony hip and dug into the boy's thick backside. Both bodies were erratically gasping for breath, burning and pouring sweat from the fever that had overcome them.
The flushed lips of Lucci's gasping mouth opened wider in a silent groan. He came in his own hand and felt the hot, white liquid seep between both their fingers. His grip slackened, but the boy was far from finished. Shuraiya was forcing him open and screwing him as hard as he could, shoving inside until his thighs rubbed against Lucci's. Black curls clung to his sweat drenched face as Lucci's breaths were reduced to ragged drawls.
Shuraiya just kept up the pace, fucking the beautiful, spent body beneath him over and over-- he buried his face against a shoulder, breathing shallow and ragged, hands groping for any part of Lucci he could claim as waves of pleasure rolled over the boy. A string of curses, half-lost in the boy's wailing and groaning, issued from his reddened lips as he came, filling Lucci with heat.
Eyes closed and mouth hungrily inhaling, Lucci released his grip on Shuraiya. The carpenter's teeth clenched tightly as the boy pulled out, leaving him filled with the heat of their encounter. Lucci's knees finally gave out and their soaked bodies collapsed onto the mattress. Shuraiya remained draped on him. Lucci simply lay on the mattress for several moments and caught his breath.
As Shuraiya laid there, breath slowing, post-coital shudders wracking his tired frame, a heavy, nauseating sense of nostalgia came over him. He nuzzled against Lucci's hair, only feeling worse for having done so. He smelled like wood, sex, blood-- nothing like James had. Their only similarity was the scent of the sea, heady and free, but-- he squeezed Lucci, unintentionally, embracing him with a sad sort of sigh. He had to go and get sentimental now, didn't he? Fucking idiot.
Lucci licked his lips and stared ahead at the side of his nightstand. The half-covered bedroom window cast a blue light across it, like a knife carving into the wood. The drawer had been left open. He tiredly reached out and shut it. He was more awake now than he had been a few moments earlier, and felt uneasy at the strangely emotional post-coital clinging. Lucci was not the cuddling type. He shifted from under the arm draped across his torso, and slowly sat upright on the edge of the bed.
Shuraiya voiced no complaint, happy to let him up-- he remained on his side, watching Lucci pensively. "Would you mind if I took a shower?" His voice was low, raspy from the heavy breathing. Not to mention awkward; he was never very good at pillow talk, "If I could borrow something to wear, that'd... be great."
Lucci scratched at his scalp and pushed wet strands of hair from his face. He wouldn't mind at all if Shuraiya took a shower. Actually, he'd love it. Beneath the delicious scent of sex, the boy still reeked of booze and grime. Lucci made a few lethargic gestures to the dresser - where Hattori still perched in blissful slumber - then to the bathroom. Pale fingers splayed over his flushed chest as he contemplated his own potential need for another shower. He could feel Shuraiya's seed trickling out of him, and it made him feel extremely dirty. Lucci's thumb grazed an erect nipple, which sent an electric shock through his brain that made him wince.
It would have to be a cold shower.