commentfic again

[mwestbelle]

I claim this entry for Frank/Gerard/Mikey VAMPIRE PORNOGRAPHY IN THE COMMENTS.

Please sit back and enjoy as thelemic and I astound and amaze you with our insane love/lust for commentficcing.

Comments

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"Aye?" The captain is far cleaner cut than the sailors, with a neatly trimmed beard, but he's still a far cry from the aristocratic circles the Ways travel in.

"I was told twenty florens would obtain passage for my brother and I aboard this vessel," Gerard reverts back to his more florid of speech when he's nervous in front of people, and Mikey briefly touches his wrist, trying to steady him a little.

The captain nods. "Right. We'll be casting off in an hour or two, if you gentlemen would care to have your things brought to your cabin." He whistles and gestures to one of the sailors. "Help these two get settled."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

The sailor takes their bags and they're soon settled into the cabin, for what they quickly find will be about two weeks of travel, even without storms. Gerard is glad, at least, though, to find that the seasickness he got the few times he sailed before has no effect on him now. It seems to be the same for Mikey, for the little traveling he has done.

The two weeks pass sluggishly, long days and long nights without even the relief of sleep to pass the time. Gerard and Mikey spend all of it with each other, still taking care to muffle any sounds they make for fear of being trapped on a boat at sea with those that disapprove.

Finally, after what seems like an age, the boat docks, and a sailor comes to find them and tell them that they've landed--they're finally in France.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

They've gotten fairly well-acquainted with several of the sailors, so it's not too much of a shock when they follow the men to the rather seedy looking bar on the wharf. Gerard would flush to admit it, but they hope to learn more about...about pleasure, from these men, obviously far more worldly and experienced than he and Mikey could ever hope to be.

The Ways (and more importantly, their bag of coins) are more than welcome, especially when round after round are slammed in front of the sailor's grizzled and laughing faces, making their minds foggy and their tongues loose.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

"So this wench--yannow--she just goes down, and--" Several men erupt into laughter at the look on the sailor's face and his slightly more than obscene gestures; he's probably the youngest there, and definitely not the most experienced. "I thought, I." He hiccups and takes another drink. "Shit, I though' I was gonna die it felt so good, y'know?"

The other men grin at him and Gerard stares, wide-eyed. "Wait, so her mouth--what?" An older, grizzled sailor chuckles, slapping him on the back. "We need ta find ya somebody, lad, show ya a good time. God, ta have some pretty lady's mouth on ya like that--" Mikey's hand tightens almost painfully around Gerard's, and Gerard gives him a reassuring look. It's okay.

The more time they spend, the more drink the sailors down, until they start talking about anything at all. "But--y'know, on the ship, s'bad luck to have ladies," one explains to another, bleary-eyed. "We gotta make do with who we got." Gerard leans forward a tad, listening intently. "But this one, he likes it, when th'others put their fingers up--" and makes a complicated gesture that makes Gerard blush to think about.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

The sailors' tales are fascinating to Mikey, though he's far from pleased with the liberties they start to take with Gerard's person as they become unsteady and affectionate. Clapping his shoulder and laughing--one who had become suspiciously effusive about a certain cabin boy even touched his hair.

"She jus', jus'--" one of the sailors is swaying a little even though he's seated. "--jus' sucks." Gerard is blushing pink, but none of the sailor's noticed--all of them are more than flushed with drink, and haven't noticed that he hasn't touched his tankard. Mikey's more than frustrated--he can't ask any of things he's wondering, because they'd only laugh him off as a curious child--and all these men are touching Gerard. Making sure that the table covers his actions, Mikey slips a hand down to rub at Gerard's thigh.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard's eyes dart around at the men sitting by them, panicked, but it's obvious a split second later that no one can see what Mikey is doing. Grateful that their company is too drunk to pay much attention, he says, low, "Mikey, they're not--they're being friendly and... they don't mean anything by it."

He would be more than happy to stay and see what other information they could pry out of the sailors, but Mikey seems unhappy and Gerard is willing to sacrifice a little research for his brother. "Do you want to leave? Find a room?" The sailors, after all, are staying for another day before sailing off again, and so they have more than one chance to learn what they can.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Research is important--this is how they're supposed to learn how to touch, how to bring each other to greater heights.He shakes his head silently, fingers rubbing small circles on Gerard's inner thigh. If he can keep touching him, he should be all right. But Mikey flinches when one of the sailors knocks his knee against Gerard's on the other side, laughing raucously.

He should be able to manage this, he knows the sailors have no designs on Gerard. Except a few of them, lazy and expansive with drink, seem to be giving him more than speculative looks, taking in his aristocratically long hair and pale skin.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard notices, to some extent, trying to appear indifferent to the staring of some of the sailors. He hopes they don't get the wrong impression, sitting back and listening to the conversation going on around them.

He tries to fight back the urge to think what they're saying is just--improper, which he knows is ridiculous. He isn't one to call things improper, not when being intimate with his little brother is becoming a normal fixture in his life.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey's focusing on the rhythmic motion of his fingers on Gerard's leg, and only half-listening to the guffaws and shouts of the men surrounding them to keep himself sane. True, at the beginning of the evening, it was titillating to imagine reenacting their tales in the darkness and privacy of rented rooms. But so long listening without any pay-off has grown tiresome when he isn't involved in the conversation.

"How 'bout you, lad?" One of the eldest sailors grabs Gerard's shoulders with a grin. "Tell us some of yer own tales." It's a dangerous question--if Gerard claims innocence, Mikey has no doubt that the sailors will drag him off to a whore with no discussion.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

"Well--" Gerard hesitates, looking at Mikey for help, before saying with a distinct glint in his eye, "I'm used to it not being proper to talk about, you know. But there was this chambermaid--h--she watched me while I was sick..." The tale is obviously edited, free of blood and he and brother, but it's clear to Mikey that Gerard is talking about him.

When Gerard gets to the part about climbing out the window, going into town with the "chambermaid" to hide what they'd been caught doing, the sex in the back room of the shop, one of the sailors laughs, loud, head hitting the table with a thunk. "You've gotten up ta stuff as good as any of us," he says, grinning, turning his head to the side to look at Gerard.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey can't quite help but inch his hand higher up Gerard's thigh while he tells the story. Gerard has always had a flair for tales, with his expressive face and hands, and a voice filled with joy for the memory. And these memories...he has a lot of joy for them as well.

Hearing Gerard's (not quite so graphic as the sailor's, but still plenty filthy) story is making his insides curl in entirely pleasant ways, and he doesn't want to be sitting with all these old salts any longer. He squeezes at Gerard meaningfully, hand far too close for comfort in public.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard breaks off mid-sentence, biting his lip to keep from gasping aloud. He fakes a cough and continues, but when he's done speaking he glances over to Mikey and says "Come on, let's get out of here, okay?" under his breath. A few of the sailors are already passed out in their chairs, and the rest haven't noticed that Gerard and Mikey never really drank much of anything, so they're not surprised when Gerard says that they're leaving to go to bed. One calls out, "I'll find ya a lady if ya want," eyes unfocused and raised hand swaying a little, and Gerard just shakes his head.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

They'd gotten a room and a key from the man at the bar before the drinking started, so they need only head straight up the stairs and find their room. There are truly obscene noises coming from the first two, and a girl with a painted face emerges from the third, pulling her skirts back down over her waist. She grins at them when they pass, but her offer of "Need an extra pair of hands, lads?" goes unanswered.

The door securely closed and latched behind them, Mikey plucks at Gerard's waistcoat before starting in on his breeches with no pleasantries. "Take it off."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard nods, unbuttoning his waistcoat and the shirt underneath as fast as he knows how, helping Mikey slide his breeches to the floor. He steps out of them and looks back up, feeling oddly exposed. He's entirely naked, clothes a pile on the floor, and Mikey is still fully dressed. "Do you want me to--?" and he reaches for the buttons of Mikey's coat hesitantly.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey bats his hand away--there's time enough for that later, he's entirely more interested in testing some of their new knowledge on Gerard than his own needs--and directs him back to the bed. He does shrug off his waistcoat to prevent it from getting wrinkled and folds it over his arm, lying it carefully over a chair before coming to stand at the foot of the bed. He takes in the sight of Gerard: pale, naked, and breathless. Already, he can tell that this will be so much better than furtive touches in their cabin (right next door to the captain's, with walls warped and thin).

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard looks up at him, sucking in a sharp breath and stretching out onto the bed, waiting. "What do you want to try?" he asks, shifting. He thinks of the sailors and their talk--with no need to sleep, they could try out anything, everything.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey frowns a little, considering, eyes raking over Gerard's body for inspiration, trying to remember everything the sailors told them (mostly the earlier parts, as the night went on they got a little more expansive and Mikey is rather dubious of some of their claims). "My mouth." He says decisively, licking his lips half-unconsciously.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard's breath catches in his throat and he makes a strangled noise, staring up at Mikey. Then please, do it, come on. He can't even begin to think about what it'll feel like, remembering the sailor's enthusiastic babbling about it, about how good it was. "Okay," he manages, weak. "Okay."

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey nods once more, whether to himself, Gerard, or a different party all together, it can't be said. Carefully, he kneels on the bed and crawls forward until he's kneeling between Gerard's thighs, on face level with his cock (well, any cock) for the first time. He remembers how the sailor described it, the hotness and wetness, but he's still nervous, unsure. He leans forward instead, darting his tongue out to lick experimentally, a quick stripe along the underside.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard's hips move without any input from him, bucking desperately upwards. "Oh God," he chokes out, eyes closed, overwhelmed by the feel of Mikey's tongue on him, even the light touch of it. "He wasn't kidding," he manages, trying to remember how to breathe. "It's good, I."

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"Good." And Mikey's smile is entirely open and happy, almost like it used to be before. The already near-frantic quality of Gerard's voice and actions makes him ache in his breeches, but he's going to finish this before tending to himself. Pleased with the reaction, he licks once more before summoning the courage to wrap his lips lightly around the head.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard lets out a high-pitched whine, trying to make himself hold still, straining with the effort. It's all hotwetheat and he thought the sailor might have been exaggerating, but--apparently not. He lets himself look down, watching Mikey do it, and it feels like he's gotten the wind knocked out of him at the image before him, Mikey's lips wrapped around him, an expression of concentration on his little brother's face.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey's trying hard to keep in mind everything the sailor was so enthused about (hot lips, tongue, hollowed cheeks), but it's so difficult. As he slides further down, taking Gerard in as a hot, solid weight in his mouth, he can't think of anything beyond his hands where they're clenched in the sheets and Gerard filling all his senses to the brim until he's certain there's no room left.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard tries to say something, to urge Mikey on or tell him how good it all is, oh god, but it comes out a stream of wordless babble, hand winding in Mikey's hair, the other tracing his jawline gently. He wants to move his hand up, shift and press against his cheek so that he can feel himself in Mikey's mouth, but he doesn't want Mikey to stop and he knows, somehow, that he's not allowed to push it that far.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Gerard's hands on him spur him forward, telling him on no uncertain terms that he's actually managing to do this properly, and he feels a swelling of pride (not the only thing swelling, not by a long shot, and he shifts his hips a little anxiously up into nothing). He brings his hands to cup Gerard's hips, and, considering himself properly adjusted to Gerard's cock in his mouth, he sucks a little, cautious.