What a wonderful morning it was! The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the temperature outside wasn't too hot or too cold—just perfect for a walk around the village or a picnic in the garden—and to top it all off, there was nothing planned for today. Yes, it was an absolutely wonderful morning.
A perfect morning to spend sleeping in bed, as Captain Haddock and Tintin were doing now.
In all fairness, last night—nay, the last week!—had put a number on the duo. Abdullah had stopped by to visit his beloved Blistering Barnacles and throughout the week had kept the two on pins and needles with his little pranks. Explosives, water guns, he had even at one point hurled an open box of sneezing powder in the living room last night before his escort arrived to drag him back home by his ankles.
On account of Abdullah's shenanigans, having to constantly watch the boy to make sure he didn't make an even bigger mess than before, the two rarely had any time to spend on themselves or with each other. Tintin's constantly suppressed urges had been pushing him towards the brink of madness, and he could tell that the captain was suffering in the same way. Each night they had to resist even touching each other in fear that Abdullah would walk in on their lovemaking and run his mouth about it to everyone in his royal court, including his father. And last night they were so very tired that they had just flopped into bed, without much regard for one another's needs.
The couple was brought out of their sleep by a light knock on the door. "Master Haddock, Master Tintin," they heard Nestor say. "Will you two be taking breakfast now?"
Tintin was the first to sit up, fixing his mangled quiff. He looked down at his partner, still buried under his blanket trying to wake himself up, and then back to the door. "If it would be alright, Nestor, do you think you could bring breakfast up to us this morning?" he asked. Despite now being in equal rank as the captain in authority, he still felt odd asking Nestor for anything.
"Yes, sir. Right away," he heard Nestor say before walking back to the kitchen to gather a breakfast in bed.
With that, Tintin slipped back under the covers, leaning over Haddock. "Good morning," he said quietly, grinning as he brushed black hairs out of the older man's face.
Haddock rubbed his eyes and began to sit up. "Mmmh," he mumbled, "Mornin'. What time is it?"
"Eleven-thirty," Tintin answered, also sitting back up. "How about that? Our first time sleeping in since last Sunday."
The captain groaned. "All week that young troglodyte was clamped onto me like a barnacle to an old boat," he said. "How does his father put up with that little squirt?"
"He doesn't," Tintin answered bluntly, stretching. "His servants do."
"Right."
"Sirs," they heard Nestor by the door again. "I've come with your breakfast."
"Very good, Nestor," Haddock said. "Come in."
The butler sauntered in—was it just Tintin, or did Nestor look tired, too?—holding a tray with two platefuls of pancakes topped with butter, and jam on the side. He put the tray carefully on the bed and handed each of them a cup of coffee.
"Thank you very much, Nestor," Haddock said, putting his cup on his nightstand. "That will be all for now." The butler nodded and wordlessly exited the room, quietly shutting the door behind him before letting out a terrific sneeze.
xoxoxo
The two went straight to work on the plates in front of them, each spreading their own jar of jam onto their pancakes before eating with relish.
Mmm, the sweet strawberry jam melted on Tintin's tongue—sweet and sticky, and went perfectly with his pancakes. The perfect ending to that hellish week, he thought before taking another bite. He looked over at Haddock who was merrily plowing through his own plate. Well, almost…
xoxoxo
"Crumbs!" Haddock heard Tintin curse next to him. He looked over to see a blob of strawberry jam spilt onto his bare leg. Tintin said nothing more, nor did he rush to clean the mess, but rather dipped some of the jam onto his finger and ran it along his tongue, smiling oh-so-subtly at the captain as he let out a small "mmm."
Haddock shook his head. So that's how he wants to play his cards, eh?
"Y'know," he said, "I don't think I've actually tried the strawberry flavor. 'Have been more of a boysenberry fan, myself. Is it good?" As he spoke, the captain was leaning closer to Tintin's thigh, his head hovering over the fruit spread that lie there.
"Very good," Tintin egged him on, attempting to lift his leg so that it was closer to Haddock's face. He could already feel himself begin to grow hard before the captain began his little taste test. Holding the redhead's leg for support, the captain ran his tongue along his lover's inner thigh. He made sure to go slow, hearing Tintin moan appreciatively while he lapped up every last morsel, licking his lips when he finished.
"Your verdict, capitaine?"
Haddock looked up at Tintin, grinning. "Just as you said, m'boy, very good. However," he said, one hand reaching out for the jar of jam from behind him, "it just needs…something else…"
With his clean hand, Haddock grabbed the waistband of Tintin's undershorts and yanked them off in one swift go. The other hand, which was now covered in jelly, wrapped itself around Tintin's mast, spreading the jam down his whole length. Tintin recalled the feeling being very queer—not to mention the jelly being very sticky on his skin, but the warm hand tugging on his shaft sent waves of pleasure over him. The captain did an experimental lick at the head before he took Tintin's cock completely into his mouth, sending the boy into a sensory overload. Tintin took a sharp breath of air in through his teeth, and back out of his mouth in shudders.
As the captain continued his ministrations, Tintin arched his back into the bed and his bottom half forward, trying to put as much of his pelvis into Haddock's mouth as possible. Making fists into the bed sheets, dirty demands began pouring out of his mouth as he became almost delirious with arousal while Haddock slowly sucked him off, grabbing onto Tintin's bare chest with his jelly-covered hand. The redhead heard the captain pull down his own boxers, using his free hand to take care of his own aching cock.
"Captain, if this continues, I'll…I'll…! Ahhhh—!" Tintin screamed out as he came, sending jets of his semen into the captain's throat. But like the marmalade, the whole lot was quickly guzzled by Haddock, who shortly after removed his mouth with a wet pop! sound. He soon came as well, letting ribbons of his cum paint Tintin's chest white. He flopped face-first into bed beside Tintin, completely exhausted.
"H—…How was it that time?" Tintin asked jokingly, out of breath.
"Perfect," Haddock said, licking his lips again. "Just needed a little something salty."
