Title: Long-distance Loving
Author: MoriNoYosei
Beta: N/A
Fandom: Cabin Pressure
Pairing: Martin Crieff/Arthur Shappey
Genre: Fluff, humour, PWP (kind of~ 8D)
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Syrup, sugar, honey, awkwardness
Disclaimer: I don't own these sweethearts or make any profit.
A/N: This is my first CP fic, written for a kink meme prompt that asked for Martin/Arthur phone sex. I'm not a native English speaker so please let me know if and when there are grammatical errors, strange wording choices or any other mistakes.
Also, tell me if it's too cheesy and/or filled with clichés - for obvious reasons I'm not terribly confident about my sex-writing skills... :'D And the characters are probably pretty OOC (at least Arthur - though he's almost impossible to keep IC while having sex...)
Comments would be hugely appreciated!
Long-distance Loving
Martin was in a bad mood. He wasn't even sure why; they were doing cargo flights so there were no rude, belittling or otherwise unpleasant passengers on board. Douglas wasn't any more irritating than what was the norm. Carolyn wasn't even there. All in all, they should have been nice and relaxing, albeit somewhat boring trips.
Martin knew Douglas' sense of humour well enough to know that he wasn't being serious when he teased Martin; that he was only trying to spice up the endless hours spent on the flight deck with nothing to do but watch the clouds below them. Still, for some reason, Martin found himself getting annoyed at every little snide remark that Douglas made. He also rejected every pastime idea that Douglas came up with – he just wasn't in the mood for silly games.
"Oh for God's sake," Douglas finally huffed after a long, sulky silence from Martin.
"Why don't you just give him a call?"
"What? Who?" Martin sounded a bit baffled, his brooding suddenly interrupted.
"If you miss Arthur so much, just call him when we get to the hotel. You've been getting more and more touchy these past few days, so obviously you could do with a nice little chat with him." The word 'chat' was delivered with raised eyebrows and a smirk. Martin frowned.
"I fail to see how talking to Arthur would make me less annoyed – it usually has the opposite effect."
While Arthur and Martin had been together for what seemed like ages, it was true that when Martin was in a bad mood, Arthur's never-ending enthusiasm and cheeriness didn't really help. Although, Martin could only stay mad for so long in Arthur's presence, before he was overcome with endearment towards the man – it really was impossible not to be softened when there was someone who honestly thought you were the most brilliant thing on earth. So, maybe he should call Arthur after all...
"I didn't mean just talking." Douglas' suggestive tone disrupted Martin's thoughts. He noticed that thinking of Arthur had made him smile stupidly. He quickly tried to wipe the expression off his face but Douglas had already noticed and was looking beyond amused, one of his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.
"What exactly are you getting at?" asked Martin suspiciously. Douglas let out a weary sigh.
"Why do I always have to spell everything out for you? You see, you are suffering from a serious case of stick-up-the-arse. The best way to cure it would be to replace that stick with something else. But since our dear steward isn't here to assist you, you might have to use alternative methods." Douglas looked and sounded positively fiendish.
Martin had gone bright red. Even after all this time he hadn't gotten used to Douglas so casually bringing up his and Arthur's sex life and teasing him about it.
"So... You mean..." Martin managed to stutter.
"Yes, Martin, phone sex. I reckon it would considerably improve your current condition and consequently make flying with you a much more pleasant experience for me."
"Ah, the Ulterior Motive Man strikes again," muttered Martin, still flustered but having mostly gotten over his initial embarrassment.
"At your service." Douglas made something like a court bow on his seat.
To Martin's relief, Douglas dropped the conversation and they spent the remaining twenty minutes of the flight in silence. At first Martin thought that Douglas' suggestion was ridiculous, but the more he thought of it the more the idea intrigued him. It could actually be pretty sexy, if they managed to do it right – which was unlikely, considering that they were Martin Crieff and Arthur Shappey, neither of whom particularly famous for doing things right. Still, it might be worth a try...
##
By the time they had landed and arrived at their hotel, Martin was already quite eager to try some long-distance loving with Arthur. Douglas gave him a knowing smirk as they parted ways to head for their respective rooms. Martin didn't even bother to be annoyed at Douglas' smug expression, but nearly ran to his room. He immediately fished his mobile phone from his pocket when he had gotten inside and taken off his coat.
"Hi, Skip!" came a cheery voice from across figurative phone lines. The title had stuck and morphed into some kind of a pet name, so Arthur often called Martin Skip in everyday speech. Not that Martin minded, not in the least. 'Skip' usually became 'Martin' when things got intimate, but sometimes Arthur would call him Captain during sex, and as much as it embarrassed Martin to admit it, that alone was almost enough to make him come any given time.
"Hi, Arthur, do you have time to speak?"
"Yeah, mum has a date with Herc, so I have the whole house to myself tonight. It's brilliant! I made a hut out of cushions that I took from the couch, and then I tried to bake a cake but it didn't really work out, so me and Snoopadoop ate all the dough, berries and whipped cream separately!" Arthur babbled happily and Martin wondered how long it would take before Snoopadoop got diabetes or died from overeating – or Arthur, for that matter.
"And now I was just thinking what I'm gonna do next," Arthur concluded his report.
"Well, I might have an idea what we could do together," purred Martin in a low voice. Arthur seemed to have missed his seductive tone because he was oblivious as ever.
"What is it? Some game that you can play on the phone? Tell me, tell me!" Arthur sounded overtly excited and Martin sighed. It really was too much to ask for Arthur to catch on to subtle hints, wasn't it?
"Not exactly."
"Oh." Arthur sounded a bit disappointed.
"It's something even better. We could... you know, have a bit of an... intimate chat. Make each other feel good by talking."
Martin swore he could hear Arthur frown. How much clearer could he make himself? Then he remembered that this was Arthur he was talking to; his dear Arthur who he loved very much but who couldn't really be counted on putting two and two together – at least not figuratively. So being blunt with him usually saved both time and Martin's nerves.
"Arthur, I'm talking about phone sex. Surely you have heard of it?"
"Oh! Right, of course! ...no I haven't."
Oh dear. This surely hadn't started off the way Martin had hoped.
"Well... ahh, how should I explain it? Basically, you say sexy things to each other, and... tell what you'd do if you were together, whilst picturing it all in your head. And at the same time you can, um, touch yourself and, you know..." Martin's cheeks were getting red and he couldn't help but think of how stupid he must sound.
"Oh, so basically it's like make-believe sex!" Arthur seemed to have finally gotten the hang of the concept. Martin was beyond relieved.
"Well yes, I guess you could say that."
"That sounds brilliant, Skip!" Arthur had gotten his usual mirth back. Martin couldn't stop a wide, ridiculous smile from creeping onto his lips.
"So, should we start then? ...umm, what are you wearing?" Martin said the first thing that came to his mind, probably thanks to some call-girl character he'd seen on tv. He regretted it immediately – even more so when he heard Arthur's keen intake of breath before the answer that Martin really should have seen coming.
"Oh, it's awesome! I'm wearing my new jammies that I got from mum. They're light purple with pictures of bunnies and carrots on them, and they're great! And really soft, too!"
Martin wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry. He settled to pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing deeply a few times.
"Arthur, the point of phone sex is that it's supposed to be erotic – and I'm afraid that your pyjamas aren't exactly a huge turn-on for me..."
"Oh, right..." Arthur sounded apologetic.
"No, no, it's okay! Neither of us has done this before, so I guess it's to be expected that we won't be instantly perfect at it," Martin reassured him and decided to try another approach.
"Maybe if we tried to imagine being together in your room... and then told each other what we'd want to do to each other."
"Okay, I can do that, I'm really good at imagining! So, if you were here... I guess I'd like to hug you and then kiss you," started Arthur tentatively.
"Hmm, I think I'd like that too. How would you kiss me?"
"Well, I'd start by just softly brushing my lips against yours, it always feels nice. And then I could nibble at your lower lip a bit."
"Ah, yes, I like it when you do that..." Martin had closed his eyes, imagining Arthur's soft lips against his own.
"I'd press into the kiss, wrap my arms around you tightly, and then I'd take my time licking and tasting your perfect lips," he told Arthur, his voice going a bit dreamy. It was surprisingly easy to dive into the fantasy and forget the awkward start.
"You think they're perfect? I... thanks, Skip." Arthur sounded chuffed and also somewhat touched.
"Well, you're welcome, and yes, I really think so, but should we move on?" said Martin with a touch of impatience in his voice.
"Right, okay... I'd cup your face with my hands and really start kissing you. I'd open my mouth a bit so you could get your tongue in, and then I'd rub my own tongue against it, and everything would be really hot and wet and wonderful..." Arthur had begun to sound like he'd finally caught on to their shared fantasy and was starting to enjoy it in earnest.
"Yes... and I'd slide one hand into your hair and the other to the nape of your neck, and I'd hold on for dear life and kiss you so hard it's going to leave bruises. I'd plunge into your mouth and claim every inch of it." Martin's voice shook a bit and Arthur made a little, high-pitched noise.
"I- I'd let you do it, and I'd suck on your tongue and lips and try to get even closer to you, though I'm already pressed against you as tightly as I can." Arthur's breathing was getting heavier, and Martin smiled impishly, even though he knew he probably sounded just the same.
"Well, there's one thing we could do to get even closer... I start pulling your shirt up and stroking the soft, sensitive skin underneath. I'm caressing your body all over, slowly and ever so lightly."
Martin could hear Arthur swallow rather loudly. His own breathing had gone a bit erratic, and he was flushed all the way up to his ears.
The dialogue had shifted from conditional to present tense smoothly; both men were just going with the flow now, and they didn't have to pause to consider what they were going to say next. Talking like it was actually happening, right there and then, made it even more arousing. Martin could feel his desire building up and wondered briefly how just talking about snogging could have such an effect on him, and so fast. He didn't have time to dwell on such thoughts for very long, though, as Arthur spoke again.
"It feels so good that I almost can't take it – you know what that kind of teasing does to me..."
Indeed, Martin knew that very well.
"Oh? Well, then I shall be merciful, take off your shirt, and start fondling you properly. I'll run my hands over your chest and back, and you know that I'll find every single erogenous zone you possess."
Indeed, Arthur knew that very well.
"It's not fair that I'm the only one missing a shirt, so I'm taking off yours, too," said Arthur after gathering himself for a while. Martin started to fumble with his tie but soon realized that there was no way he'd be able to take it off and open his shirt buttons quickly with one hand, so he had to stop Arthur from going on.
"Sorry, could you hold on for a second so I can get rid of my shirt?"
"Oh, yeah, of course. I could actually do the same."
Martin put the phone down on a little table, pulled off his tie and opened his shirt, then tossed both of them somewhere – he didn't particularly care about their fate right now. He picked up the mobile again.
"Are you there?"
"Yep, all ready and shirtless!"
"Then please, do go on..." Martin purred.
"Okay, so, I start kissing your chest and trailing little paths across it with my tongue. Your skin tastes salty and sweet at the same time, and it's one of the best flavours I know," Arthur continued, and Martin felt ridiculously proud – because if there was something that Arthur loved almost more than anything, it was his favourite foods. And if he enjoyed the taste of Martin's skin half as much as them, it really was saying something.
"I'm moving my hands downwards, little by little... I'm stroking your lower abdomen now and working my fingers under your waistband, drawing little circles on the smooth, fair skin there. You know that's one of my favourite parts of your body, don't you?" Martin murmured and was pleased to hear Arthur gulp heavily again.
"Well, it has been pretty impossible to not notice that you seem to like it..."
"Quite right," Martin had to admit. He didn't say anything for a while but istead indulged in the mental image of half-naked, flushed Arthur in front of him, trembling as Martin's hands roamed on his skin, appreciating the every single curve and shape, visiting his hip bones and stroking the soft, tender area between them. Martin's fingertips had memorized the texture and feel of Arthur's skin, and he could clearly see every detail of the man he loved in his mind. After a while Arthur spoke again.
"I... I move my mouth to your neck and start sucking, really gently at first. Then I kiss your neck and suck harder... and harder, so that tomorrow everyone will know what happened and that you're mine."
That turned the tables and made Martin gasp and swallow hard in turn. His neck had always been an especially sensitive area for him – and although hickies should have been for teenagers, Martin knew that he would be a bigger liar than Douglas if he claimed that the idea of Arthur giving him one wasn't turning him into a hot, gooey mess. Also the thought of Arthur marking him as his was almost unbearably sexy. Martin craned his neck unconsciously, as if to give Arthur better access.
"Ahh, yes... Brand me, make me yours," he pleaded breathlessly.
"Yes, sir", said Arthur with a tinge of mischief in his voice – he had obviously noticed what kind of effect his last sentence had had on Martin.
"Why on earth are we still standing?" Martin suddenly asked when the thought occurred to him. He walked the few steps through the small room, kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed, which squeaked a bit in protest, as he continued to speak.
"I guide you to the bed, and don't you dare take your lips away from my neck. I lower you gently on the mattress and climb in, straddling your hips and caressing every part of your body that I can reach."
"And I do the same to you. I stroke and fondle you all over, run my hands across your back and pull you closer." Arthur's voice was thick with desire and his breathing was turning somewhat ragged. Martin bit his lower lip and started caressing himself, his own hand a substitute for Arthur's. His skin was hot to the touch and he could hardly remember the last time he had been this aroused.
"I move my hips against yours, slowly, and as much as it pains me to part my neck from your mouth, I replace it with my lips and kiss the living daylights out of you." Martin said and heard Arthur make a little, muffled sound.
"And I kiss you back so hard you won't remember your name anymore."
Martin didn't doubt that, not in the least.
"Your mouth tastes so good... I could kiss you for hours and never get tired of it. And it feels so brilliant, your lips and tongue moving against mine..." Arthur seemed to have gone to some distant place, his voice dreamy.
"And your mouth undoubtedly tastes like berries and whipped cream," said Martin with amusement in his voice when he remembered what Arthur had been doing before their phone call. He was rather happy that it had been an unbaked cake rather than fizzy yoghurt or some other culinary invention of Arthur's. He had to suppress a laugh. Then he sobered down and continued.
"As I'm kissing you through and through, I keep rubbing my hips rhythmically against yours and let my hands roam all over you, feeling you as thoroughly as I can. I want to make every inch of your body mine..."
"It already is," came Arthur's softly but breathlessly spoken reply. Martin felt a flush of warmth spread through his body, even though he had been sure that he couldn't get any hotter. It still amazed him every day that there really was someone in this world who wanted to be his; who honestly admired and desired him; who didn't think he was a joke of a pilot or a joke of a human being. The thought made him a bit teary-eyed and also very, very aroused.
"Although, you could reach everything even better if you took my pants off," Arthur offered innocently. Martin knew better than to be fooled. Sure, Arthur might be naïve sometimes and he definitely was more optimistic than what was healthy, but he wasn't as dim-witted as he might seem – and certainly not as innocent.
"Well, I can't argue with that. So I open your belt and placket, and then I slowly pull down your trousers, all the while kissing you senseless."
Of course Martin knew that Arthur didn't have a belt or a placket because he was wearing his pyjama bottoms, but one asset of phone sex was that he could imagine stripping Arthur of something a bit sexier than his new bunny-patterned jammies. He continued with a slightly raspy voice.
"When I'm done, I want you to do the same- oh, what the hell! Let's just get this clothes business over with. I take off my own pants and then we get rid of our underwear, too." Martin was currently so horny that he didn't have patience for slow teasing anymore. He was sporting quite an impressive erection, and all he could think was that he wanted more and that he wanted it now. He heard Arthur chuckle.
"Wow, Skip, I didn't know you were that excited."
"Well I am, so let's move on, shall we? You have to wait a second again, though, so that I can actually take these off."
After a frustrating minute of fighting with his less than co-operative trousers Martin managed to pull them off and resume the call, sounding exasperated and lusty at the same time.
"Now, let's get on with it."
"Okay, so, what would you... I mean, how do you want..." Arthur suddenly sounded uncertain and even a bit bashful.
"I want you to fuck me."
Arthur's breath hitched at Martin's words – apparently he hadn't expected Martin to be quite that direct.
"A- ah, okay..." He let out a shuddering breath.
"Well, since we're not having actual sex, I guess we can skip the part where we search for the lube that's always missing... So, I roll us over so that I'm on top of you and start working a slick finger inside of you while kissing you all over your chest and neck."
Martin let out a breathy moan at Arthur's words.
"Yess..." he hissed, and his hips bucked on their own accord. He didn't say anything else, and Arthur took it as a cue to go on.
"Uhh, I move my finger inside, and then I add a second one, which slides in smoothly. I keep on moving them, nice and slow, and after a while you can take a third one. And it's so wet and hot and slippery that it's almost too much..."
Martin made a strangled whimpering noise. It really was almost too much, even if it wasn't actually even happening. Doing all those things with Arthur was fantastic but this was just as good, only in a different way. Now he had to trust on his sensory memory and imagination rather than actual physical stimulation. So, a bit like fantasizing but so much better because there was someone else who told you what was happening, and you had no control over it, unlike if it was just you and your imagination.
"I- I'm pressing myself against your fingers, I want more, please give it to me..." Martin knew he sounded desperate but didn't really care – after all, he was rather desperate right now. He was panting and writhing, frantically stroking himself all over. However, he had restrained from touching his erection because Arthur hadn't said anything about touching it, and Martin wanted to do this properly.
"Okay... I take out my fingers after a few more sound pushes. I'm all slick down there, and I slowly, carefully start sliding in..." Judging by Arthur's low, throaty moan and quickened breathing that followed, he had grabbed himself and was simulating the act with his hand. Martin had to make quite an effort to speak coherently.
"There's really no need to be careful, Arthur."
"But I don't want to hurt you."
Martin had to smile fondly at that. Dear, sweet Arthur; worrying about hurting him while having phone sex.
"Yes, but remember, we're not actually doing this, so that's not even possible. And even if you were here with me, I'd want to you to just take me now, hard and fast." Martin's words made Arthur utter a loud groan and Martin felt himself shudder with desire.
"You know, that's exactly what I want to do to you right now." Arthur sounded just as fervent as Martin felt, and continued with a thick, husky voice.
"I push deeper, and it feels so good, we fit perfectly together. You're so wet and snug around me that I don't think I can last very long..."
Martin was biting his knuckles without knowing it. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his erection was straining without the attention it craved.
"Ah, A- Arthur, yes..."
"I'm quickening the pace now, getting deeper with each thrust... I- I'm completely buried inside of you and you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, all flushed and panting and naked..."
Arthur's description of Martin was fairly accurate. He was a mess at the moment and he knew it; gasping feverishly on the bedsheets and grabbing them with his free hand, because he desperately needed to hold on to something. Had Arthur been there, it would have probably been his hair.
"I wrap my legs around you and try to pull you even closer. It's not enough, I want you deeper – so close that our bodies are one and our hearts merge..."
"M- Martin..." The name sounded like a sob coming from somewhere deep inside Arthur's chest, and his voice was cracking.
"Martin, I... I love you so much."
Suddenly there seemed to be something wrong with Martin's eyesight – everything had gone blurry. At first Martin was alarmed. Then he realized that he was crying. He wiped his eyes and tried not to make any weird noises, but apparently he hadn't been fast enough and Arthur had heard him sniff.
"Martin, are you all right?" Arthur's voice was soft and he sounded concerned.
"Yes, yes, everything's fine... I just- I guess I just realized how much you mean to me and how lucky I am to have you."
"Oh. I... I don't know what to say..."
"You don't have to say anything. I know it already." Martin was smiling, his eyelashes dewy from his tears. He really knew what Arthur wanted to say – even though he couldn't find the words, he told Martin every day with his actions and simply by being there for him.
The atmosphere had shifted from ardent to sensual and almost serene. When Arthur continued wording their shared fantasy, he sounded unbelievably affectionate.
"I make love to you, slowly and thoroughly, sliding deep inside and back with long, smooth movements. I reach down to kiss you long and hard, cupping your face in my hands, and it's perfect."
"And I slide my hands around your back and embrace you so that we're tightly pressed together from mouth to hips. You feel so good inside of me and all over me that I just want to be engulfed by you, completely and utterly." Martin heard Arthur let out a long, shaky breath.
"Then that's what I want to do. I want to touch you in every possible way. I'm reaching down between us and grasping you now." With that, Martin almost unconsciously moved his hand between his legs and took his erection in his hand. The long-awaited contact made him inhale sharply and buck his hips almost violently. Soon his hand was slick with precum and Martin had to use all his willpower just to stop himself from feverishly wanking himself to completion.
"I start stroking you, slowly and gently," Arthur managed to utter with a choked voice, his each word sounding like he had to make a tremendous effort to produce it. Speaking was proving to be difficult for Martin, too, as he moved his hand up and down at an excruciatingly slow pace.
"A- Arthur, please..." Martin didn't even know what he was pleading for but felt an overwhelming need to do it anyway.
"We're rocking back and forth on the bed, seamlessly, all locked together so that I don't even know where I end and you begin... I keep kissing you and I stroke you firmer and faster with every thrust."
Martin was adhering to Arthur's words, gripping himself tighter and picking up the pace. He was far beyond all higher cerebral function and could only hear Arthur's raspy voice and his own moans, see his lover's features behind his closed eyelids, and feel the immense pleasure brought about by his own hand that Arthur controlled. He felt like a puppet but he wanted his strings to be pulled by this particular man, so he didn't feel constricted. He felt safe.
Martin hardly had time to realise that it was happening, before he felt the unstoppable wave of orgasm hitting him hard and square, catching him off guard. His back arched, his head tilted back, and every muscle in his body tensed like the strings of an overtuned violin. Then it was like the strings had finally given in and snapped. Martin's slender body shook and went completely limp. His breath hitched in his throat and then escaped in the shape of a breathily stuttered, incoherent noise, from which one could have – with a little good will – made out the word 'Arthur'.
While riding the aftershocks of his rather spectacular climax, Martin vaguely heard Arthur reach his own, personal point of no return and come with a gasp and a muffled cry.
"That was..." started Arthur after a while, when they had both managed to even out their breathing a bit. However, he didn't seem to find a suitable adjective to end the sentence with.
"Yeah, I know," Martin said softly. He couldn't find the right word either.
There was a long, content silence between them. Finally Martin broke it.
"I wish you were here right now so I could cuddle the heck out of you. This hotel bed is far too Arthur-less to my liking..."
"Well, you could always complain to the hotel manager about that," offered Arthur with smile in his voice.
"Yeah, I see how that would work out: 'What kind of a hotel is this? I just had the most wonderful wank in my life, and when I finished there was no Arthur in my bed!' 'Oh, we're terribly sorry, sir. We shall immediately refund your money and offer you a free stay in our most luxurious suite with a top-quality Arthur waiting for you in the king-sized bed.'"
Arthur chuckled a bit wearily.
"Yeah, I guess it's just a necessary evil when having phone sex... It wasn't half bad, though, was it?"
"You don't say."
"You know, we could do this again sometime when you're away, if you want," purred Arthur.
"God, yes... But fortunately we only have one cargo flight left with Douglas before we come back – and you can be sure that the first thing I do when I get home is to realize that little chat of ours," drawled Martin with a low voice and enjoyed the little whimpering noise that it drew from Arthur.
"I look forward to it, Skip. And then you'll have as much Arthur in your bed as you want."
They didn't say much after that; it just felt a bit weird to chat about mundane things after having experienced earth-shattering orgasms just five minutes ago. So they wished each other good night and hung up. Martin's phone was sweaty from being squeezed in his hand for the whole passionate phone call, and the bed was a heap of crumpled sheets and utterly spent Martin. He forced himself to rise up and take a shower, then slipped back into the bed with a satisfied sigh.
##
It was some time later, under the detergent-smelling – now tinged with the scent of sex – covers of the hotel room bed, that Martin realized one unfortunate fact: his phone call with Arthur from the opposite side of the globe would probably cost him a month's worth of van deliveries and he'd have to live on air and instant noodles for God knows how long. He might even have to humble himself and borrow money if he couldn't pay his next month's rent.
Martin could also imagine Douglas' gleeful expression and very nearly wolfish grin the next morning, since there was absolutely no chance that he wouldn't know what had happened. And the teasing would probably never end.
Yet, Martin couldn't bring himself to care all that much. With a tender smile on his lips he drifted to sleep.