fic: Haddock/Tintin (R)
Title: Cold at Night
Author: burntsoap
Pairing: Haddock/Tintin
Rating: R
Warning: PWP
Word count: 639
Summary: Tintin’s gotten quite a chill. The captain warms him up.
Tintin exhales. His breath is visible and he simply wonders how it could be this cold. He’s certain they’re approaching the North Pole. The boat sways lightly with the waves.
He tries to prevent his teeth from chattering, he doesn’t want to wake up the captain.
“Blasted barnacles! I can hear you shuddering like a virgin from down here!” too late.
Tintin freezes, hoping the captain would think him asleep. No hope. “I know you’re awake, lad. Come down here.”
No reply. “Out with it then, I don’t want to greet you as an ice sculpture in the morning!” The captain kicks the top bunk for effect. The wood creaks alarmingly and Tintin jolts. He slowly shifts, wrapping himself with the flimsy synthetic blanket and makes his way down the ladder. At the last step, his foot catches in the blanket and he tumbles.
“Oof!”
The captain had caught him by the arm and he’s greeted with the captain’s firm, warm body. Tintin scrambles off of him and tries to shift to the edge of the bed, blushing. He’s glad it’s dark and the captain can’t see his face.
“Confound it, Tintin! I’m not a shark. Come closer, I won’t eat you…” Tintin finds this hard to believe, but shifts a little closer nonetheless. Not a chance. The captain manages to wrap an arm around his waist and suddenly, Tintin’s back is pressed against the captain in a way he’d never imagined.
Both their blankets are pulled over them and Tintin can feel the captain’s large feet poking at his small, cold toes.
“A billion blistering barnacles! You’re as cold as ice already!” Tintin anticipates anything now, anything but the captain’s arms shifting, his hands moving to rub his clothed chest, his back, in circular motions. The itchy fabric rubs over his skin and it’s uncomfortable, but he’s too distracted by the sudden warmth bursting through his body.
Tintin lets out a meek moan. He moves his arm and tangles his fingers with the captain. The captain pauses his ministrations and Tintin is frightened. Had he misread the signals? Is the captain really just doing this out of his own kind heart?
The answer is obvious. Tintin shivers, but not out of being cold. The captain’s lips are on his neck, he’s kissing his neck. A knee is pushed between Tintin’s thighs. “Oh!”
His leg moves in a forward and back motion, rubbing against Tintin’s groin. Tintin marvels at the sensation, it’s like nothing he’s felt before. He feels the captain’s groin jutting against his buttocks.
“Yes, oh yes, Tintin, ma boy, just a little longer…” the captain breathes in his ear. A hand on Tintin’s groin. A squeeze, and Tintin whimpers, soiling his breeches. “Captain!”
“Let it out, just let it out, I’m close” he whispers and Tintin ruts shamelessly against the captain’s groin.
“Oh dear!” the captain comes, riding out his orgasm at the feeling of Tintin’s body against him. Tintin’s hands, his feet, his back, everything.
“Can I kiss you, Captain?” Tintin mumbles shyly. The captain has to laugh at his hesitation and Tintin feels ashamed for a moment. That doesn’t last. The captain pulls him and Tintin rolls, facing him now. Tintin has his mouth half open when the captain swoops in. Tintin can feel his tongue, he could smell the musky odor of alcohol and tobacco. It burns his nostrils, but he doesn’t care.
The captain’s beard is tickling him and irritating his cheeks, but Tintin doesn’t care.
Tintin pulls away. “We should clean ourselves up.”
“In the mornin’” is the reply.
Tintin nods, not feeling the urge to argue. He rolls himself around and grabs hold of the captain’s arm, placing it over his waist and clasping the captain’s hairy hand in his own. The captain shifts closer and sighs.
They fall asleep.