"You of all people shouldn't be surprised at what women are capable of."
Benedict moves a bit, less gracefully than usual since the lack of sobriety weighs him down, so he's kneeling on the bed next to where Silver is sitting.
"Most of that is mine, Mr. Silver," he teases. He knows he's been told to call him just Silver, but adding the mister before it adds a layer of coy playfulness that Benedict quite enjoy.
He plants a kiss to the corner of Silver's mouth (mostly because he misses the mouth entirely) and sits back on his heels with a pensive look.
"You left the table," Silver counters, and once he's satisfied he sets the money on the small water basin. He snatches the bottle of rum he usually keeps next to it, and is about to offer it to Benedict before he thinks better of it and takes a large swig himself.
Ale is fine, but he much prefers rum. He can't really imagine much of a life without it anymore. He does, however, find it in him to get a little more comfortable where he sits, placing his free hand in the other's hair, idly looking down and running is hands through it.
Jesus, Benedict looks good like this. Silver quirks a smile.
"Something's just occured to me," he says softly, and his hand moves from Benedict's hands to the other's jaw, gently tilting his head up. "I think you're the most dangerous man in in this very inn."
Benedict gazes up at Silver, an amused and easy grin spread across his face. He reaches out his hand to run along whatever part of Silver he can easily reach. His fingers toy absently with the buttons on Silver's shirt before he decides his hand is too heavy to hold up, so he lets it drop, which means he's brushing the intricate detail on the pirate's belt.
Silver's smile is still there, just a small trace of amusement reaching his eyes as the other looks at him. Benedict is soft, and curious, and unsullied by just how terrible the world is.
Silver should feel angry at him. Upset, maybe, or envious that someone has it far easier than he's ever had in his entire life. Silver was never one to resent anyone, but if he could, it would be someone like Benedict, who is kneeling and so deliciously supplicant, drunk on ale that's barely affected Silver himself and playing with his belt.
Instead, Silver finds himself moving the hand on Benedict's jaw so his thumb can trace the other's lips, his other hand slowly undoing his belt.
"Because at this moment, you're the only thing I find myself giving a damn about."
Benedict’s cheek flush, with want rather than shyness this time. He stares up at Silver as a shiver runs through him. No one has ever said anything quite like that to him, let alone looked at him the way Silver is. Benedict has no doubt that, at least in this moment, Silver means it.
“You should be careful, giving one man such power.”
Silver’s thumb is rough, and Benedict recalls the feeling of those sailor’s hands pulling at his hips. He presses his hands to Silver’s thighs and sits up more, trying to get a kiss from the other man.
It's gentle but firm: Silver puts the hand on the other's shoulder, stopping him from sitting up properly, eyes never leaving the others', face carefully neutral behind the glint in his eyes.
"I should," he agrees, and his thumb by Benedict's mouth presses down, urging the other to part his lips. He recognizes that wanting look reflected back at him, and he undoes his belt completely with his other hand before starting to undo the buttons on his breeches.
Benedict’s look of frustration is fleeting. He doesn’t want to be denied a kiss (or two) but he also finds that he’s enjoying the denial, or the way Silver gently commands him to do this or that. Maybe that’s why his lips part, or maybe they do it naturally while his breath catches in throat.
“I can do that for you,” he says at last, referring to Silver working free the buttons of his breaches. But Benedict doesn’t reach forward. He waits to see if Silver allows him too, which gives him another rush of adrenaline, pressing his fingers eagerly into Silver’s thighs where his hands rest.
Silver nods at that, moving his hand away, shifting so he's sitting a little straighter in the bed. Benedict looks delightful on his knees like that, something that makes the pirate king smirk despite himself, and he nods, pleasantly surprised.
He’s a little surprised that Silver’s allowing him. It registers in his face before he shifts forward, slipping the buttons free with relative ease despite his tipsiness.
“Undressed another man?” he asks, eyebrows raised, unsure if he’s meant to be amused by the question or not. “I can’t imagine how I could have, you being my first encounter with a man in these regards.”
Silver's chuckle is low, amused. "Not quite," he says simply, and is briefly worried about the other seeing the stump of his leg before he looks at the other's flushed appearance and everything is forgotten.
"If you want to make me happy," Silver makes sure the other has easy access to undo the buttons of his trousers, and his hand moves to smooth over the other's hair, running his fingers in it, "all you have to do is take me in your mouth and suck."
He pauses a moment, unsure if he’s misheard in his drunkenness. Benedict’s eyes flick down to look at where his hands have undone Silver’s buttons then back up to Silver’s eyes. And rather than find the idea offensive, he realizes he’s very, very into it.
This is absolutely the thrill that Silver had asked about earlier in the evening. To Benedict, there’s something inexplicably taboo about the thought - even more scandalous than their activities the other night.
“Surely it can’t be so simple as that.”
Benedict’s voice is breathy, betraying his excitement. He tugs down Silver’s trousers to free his cock and presses his tongue to his lip.
Benedict's eager, curious, and Silver finds himself running his hand through the other's hair encouragingly. It's not that simple, no, and there's more to it, but Silver figures he has to ease Benedict into these things.
"It's not very hard to make a man come," he says plainly, though his voice is softer as the other tugs down his trousers. There's something about this, something about how innocent but willing the other is that thrills Silver.
He takes the back of Benedict's head, gently guiding him towards his cock, looking down at him expectantly.
It may not be difficult, but Benedict can admit he's a perfectionist, and it will bother him if he doesn't do a somewhat decent job of it. Fortunately, Silver seems to be fine with guiding him along, which gives Benedict a bit of a confidence boost.
Anyway, it's not as if he has much time to hesitate. Benedict tries to think back to the very few times he's been on the receiving end of this, and if he could remember some sort of tip or trick. Unfortunately, all he can really recall is how good it felt.
He glances up at Silver again as his lips press to the head of Silver's cock, and without putting too much thought into everything (he's pretty sure overthinking it will ruin it), parts his lips to take it into his mouth.
It's a start, and Silver's chest rises and falls in anticipation, pleased the other's decided to go for it. There's something about the line of his dimples; the way they look as the other's lips part.
"All of it, if you can," he urges, his voice a low rumble as he continues to stroke the other's hair.
Benedict hums a little, having no idea how he can possibly do that. But he's willing to try, figuring he's come as far as having it in his mouth anyway. Unfortunately he finds that, after taking a little more, he has to pull back abruptly to cough.
Silver looks down at the other, eyes alight, the briefest of smiles flickering on his face. He moves his hand to cup the other's cheek, surprisingly soft despite rough hands.
"It takes practice--don't force yourself. Suck on it, lick it like you would a peppermint stick."
Somehow, having to instruct the other--being the other's first--it sends a thrill down Silver's spine. Benedict is deliciously naive, and the thought of those lips around his cock is enough for him to gently urge the other once more.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Benedict moves a bit, less gracefully than usual since the lack of sobriety weighs him down, so he's kneeling on the bed next to where Silver is sitting.
"Most of that is mine, Mr. Silver," he teases. He knows he's been told to call him just Silver, but adding the mister before it adds a layer of coy playfulness that Benedict quite enjoy.
He plants a kiss to the corner of Silver's mouth (mostly because he misses the mouth entirely) and sits back on his heels with a pensive look.
"Does anyone ever call you John?"
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Ale is fine, but he much prefers rum. He can't really imagine much of a life without it anymore. He does, however, find it in him to get a little more comfortable where he sits, placing his free hand in the other's hair, idly looking down and running is hands through it.
Jesus, Benedict looks good like this. Silver quirks a smile.
"Something's just occured to me," he says softly, and his hand moves from Benedict's hands to the other's jaw, gently tilting his head up. "I think you're the most dangerous man in in this very inn."
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Benedict gazes up at Silver, an amused and easy grin spread across his face. He reaches out his hand to run along whatever part of Silver he can easily reach. His fingers toy absently with the buttons on Silver's shirt before he decides his hand is too heavy to hold up, so he lets it drop, which means he's brushing the intricate detail on the pirate's belt.
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Silver should feel angry at him. Upset, maybe, or envious that someone has it far easier than he's ever had in his entire life. Silver was never one to resent anyone, but if he could, it would be someone like Benedict, who is kneeling and so deliciously supplicant, drunk on ale that's barely affected Silver himself and playing with his belt.
Instead, Silver finds himself moving the hand on Benedict's jaw so his thumb can trace the other's lips, his other hand slowly undoing his belt.
"Because at this moment, you're the only thing I find myself giving a damn about."
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“You should be careful, giving one man such power.”
Silver’s thumb is rough, and Benedict recalls the feeling of those sailor’s hands pulling at his hips. He presses his hands to Silver’s thighs and sits up more, trying to get a kiss from the other man.
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"I should," he agrees, and his thumb by Benedict's mouth presses down, urging the other to part his lips. He recognizes that wanting look reflected back at him, and he undoes his belt completely with his other hand before starting to undo the buttons on his breeches.
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“I can do that for you,” he says at last, referring to Silver working free the buttons of his breaches. But Benedict doesn’t reach forward. He waits to see if Silver allows him too, which gives him another rush of adrenaline, pressing his fingers eagerly into Silver’s thighs where his hands rest.
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"Have you done this before?"
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“Undressed another man?” he asks, eyebrows raised, unsure if he’s meant to be amused by the question or not. “I can’t imagine how I could have, you being my first encounter with a man in these regards.”
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"If you want to make me happy," Silver makes sure the other has easy access to undo the buttons of his trousers, and his hand moves to smooth over the other's hair, running his fingers in it, "all you have to do is take me in your mouth and suck."
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This is absolutely the thrill that Silver had asked about earlier in the evening. To Benedict, there’s something inexplicably taboo about the thought - even more scandalous than their activities the other night.
“Surely it can’t be so simple as that.”
Benedict’s voice is breathy, betraying his excitement. He tugs down Silver’s trousers to free his cock and presses his tongue to his lip.
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"It's not very hard to make a man come," he says plainly, though his voice is softer as the other tugs down his trousers. There's something about this, something about how innocent but willing the other is that thrills Silver.
He takes the back of Benedict's head, gently guiding him towards his cock, looking down at him expectantly.
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Anyway, it's not as if he has much time to hesitate. Benedict tries to think back to the very few times he's been on the receiving end of this, and if he could remember some sort of tip or trick. Unfortunately, all he can really recall is how good it felt.
He glances up at Silver again as his lips press to the head of Silver's cock, and without putting too much thought into everything (he's pretty sure overthinking it will ruin it), parts his lips to take it into his mouth.
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"All of it, if you can," he urges, his voice a low rumble as he continues to stroke the other's hair.
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"Not so simple at all."
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"It takes practice--don't force yourself. Suck on it, lick it like you would a peppermint stick."
Somehow, having to instruct the other--being the other's first--it sends a thrill down Silver's spine. Benedict is deliciously naive, and the thought of those lips around his cock is enough for him to gently urge the other once more.