Not making any filthy lucre with this. Don't own Tintin & Company - Moulinsart does.

Okay - Picture a soft breeze blowing through an open window, a just showered certain young man feeling that breeze and taking a moment to indulge in experiencing that soft gentle touch across still moist flesh…

And that's when this story sprang out of my forehead and onto the page and from there to Fanfiction.

This is just the first chapter of 9. Yes. You read that right. 9 – count em (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 , 9…how many is nine…) chapters in all. I kept on going and going and going… Each one exploring our beloved boy's introduction to more and more delicious, lovely, wondrous and oh so hot sex with his adored and adoring Captain.

Free truckloads of cold water to any one in need.

Enjoy! As usual review if you'd like. Though it does make the heart feel all fuzzy…

Standard grammatical apology, any mistakes are due to fumble fingers, sheer blindness and complete disregard for the English language. However, you read through this again and again for an out of place apostrophe and not get distracted...

…

Stepping out of the shower, Tintin grabbed a towel and rubbed his body and hair dry. He took a moment to finger comb his short ginger hair, making sure his longer quiff was its usual upstanding self, and then brushed his teeth. Running his hand over his face, he made a small expression of disappointment – not one whisker poked its head out. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever develop facial hair.

Keeping the towel wrapped around his lower half, he stepped into his bedroom, the one he'd been staying at since moving into Marlinspike Hall.

His clothes were laid neatly on the bed, the sheets and covers already straightened, pillows fluffed and back in their usual position as he had already prepared for the day before entering the bathroom.

As Tintin dropped the towel on the floor, he felt the cool breeze that sneaked through the open window.

Hesitating for a moment, he decided to give in to the urge that suddenly swept over him. Glancing around, he knew the room was empty as Snowy had wandered off somewhere. He wondered if he should shut the door, but two things stopped him – one, that would mean the refreshing breeze would still and two, no one else was up this time of the morning.

Lying full length upon the bed, he stared up at the ceiling. The soft breeze felt so good on his bare skin. Luxurious. Spreading his legs a little, he could feel the remnants of moisture dry across his front.

He lay there for a bit, hands behind his head, mind drifting.

A suddenly stronger wind caused him to shiver, goose bumps rising on arms and legs. Not to mention making small, rosy nipples rise as well.

Tintin looked down at his self. His eyes glanced at the door and then one hand moved down to his upper body. At first he pressed the erect nub, eventually rubbing a fingertip over it. A soft sigh swelled his chest. He licked his lips and proceeded to take the erect nipple in between his index finger and thumb and roll it gently, giving it soft pulls every so often.

He moved his hand until the nub was positioned between and against the 'V' of two fingers. His other hand slid down and did the same and joined in gently pulling and squeezing the other nipple, not wanting it to feel ignored. Releasing them he positioned his hands until the nicely stimulated buds poked against the exact center of his palms. He slowly rubbed in circles, barely touching the nipples, just enough to brush against them and make electric sparks seem to run from them to his lower belly.

His head was tilted back a little and the tip of his tongue stuck out slightly from between his lips. He started to lick his lips and then stopped. Allowing a small, secret smile, he lifted his hands up and inserted first one and then the other middle finger into his mouth, moistening them fully.

Returning them to his chest, he rubbed the wet digits on those still hard and oh so sensitive nipples. He felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the breeze.

Tintin lay there for some time, alternating each finger, moistening first one, then the other and continued stimulating each appreciating nub. They stood quite erect off his chest, their usual rosiness slightly darkened.

They weren't the only thing that was beginning to stand erect. He'd felt the still light yet very delightful heat that was beginning to build in his lower belly, groin and inner thighs, coupled with the first sense of tightness in shaft and scrotum.

He was a bit away from full arousal, his cock still at half-mast – neither completely erect nor swelled to its full circumference. He really wasn't in any hurry to get there, as the slow build was rather nice.

But now that he was aware of other parts of his body commencing to rouse, he began to run one hand up and down his stomach, the fingers gliding over the flesh until they just skimmed over the patch of dark red hair that sprouted thickly above his expanding shaft. Other than a smaller area of similar hair that ran down the inside of his upper thighs, he had no other body hair except for light, fine strands on forearms and lower legs.

Arching his head back a bit more, Tintin spread his legs further and bent them a bit. Sparing one more glance at the door, he closed his eyes and moved his hand around the base of his cock, brushing the wiry yet soft pubic hairs back and forth.

In response to the close stimulation, his cock rose further and began to lightly throb. He could feel his testicles becoming heavier and spread his legs even wider.

Reaching between his legs, he gently took hold of his scrotum and began to knead and caress the somewhat wrinkled and very hot sacs. They responded to the attention by swelling even more, and he couldn't help the low groan that slipped from his lips.

His other hand had left off stimulating it's attendant nipple and replaced the first hand at the base of his now extremely erect shaft, running the fingers from there up to his small belly button.

Faster and faster he ran his fingers up and down his belly, while his other hand began to fondle his testicles a bit more forcefully. His breath was beginning to whisper out between clenched teeth, and he could feel his heart beating more firmly.

He was vaguely aware of the breeze cooling the sheen of sweat that had risen upon his skin.

Unable to resist the urges any longer, he lifted his legs and placed his feet flat against the mattress and began to lift his hips up down. For a moment he was content to move rhythmically with only one hand stimulating his very hot and very swollen balls, the other hand still running up and down his tight stomach and belly.

Low moans and stifled grunts escaped from lips that were pulled back, and his eyebrows were drawn down over tightly clenched eyelids. His small, button-like nose was scrunched up.

Realizing he couldn't keep from touching himself any longer, and not wanting to resist, Tintin grabbed hold of his bobbing, throbbing cock and rubbed his fist up and down it, adding delicious friction to the heat that radiated off it. He could feel his pre-cum adding moisture, slicking his palm.

Back arched, hips pumping up and down as his hand moved in tandem, he rode himself further and further up a dizzyingly, dazzlingly, incredibly overwhelming spiral of passionate ecstasy.

And that's when Captain Haddock walked into his room.

…