Title: Proposition
Fandom: Penguins of Madagascar
Pairing(s): Julien/Skipper, one sided Private/Skipper
Warning: Sex scene, homosexuality, interspecies, furries, rimming
Summary: It's been quite some time since Julien was in Madagascar, with all those lovely ladies and sometimes gentlemen falling over him, ready to sate his every desire, but now his only lemur plebeians are Mort and Maurice, and they simply will not do.
That next night, Skipper sent his boys out to play three-way capture the flag, promising he'd be there as soon as he was done. He didn't even give them an explanation, just threw them out and waited.
Now, Julien sat next to him and he had no idea why he had decided to do…this. Even after Kowalski's advice. Skipper snorted, some advice. Skipper was content just to sit on the uncomfortably hard ground all night and stare at his wings rather than at Julien.
Julien held his breath as Skipper edgily played with his flippers in an attempt to occupy his rootless mind. It was becoming apparent that the lemur would need to make the first awkward move. The sovereign inched towards the flightless bird, who found the immediacy unsettling. Nevertheless, he didn't move. The transaction was prepared, and a good penguin did not go back on his word; damn his principles.
Come on, Skipper, get it together; the leader penguin fortified himself, clenching his flippers and pulling a look of acquiescent resolve. "Okay!" he shouted unexpectedly.
A little disconcerted, Julien reared back, blinking sporadically, brows raised. "Okay what."
Instantaneously, all of the assurance Skipper had hoarded over the past instant drained from his face, leaving him pale and anxious. He exhaled noisily and propped his head flippantly upon his flipper. "You know." He sneered ardently.
The asserted ruler's face knotted into expectation and dithering reservation as he slapped Skipper's back agreeably. "OH-ho-ho; you eager beaver penguin." Julien wormed his brows and tail with interest. "Uh, well?"
Skipper ogled. "Well what?"
It was Julien's turn to be frustrated. "On your belly, of course." A thought arose and his grin turned into a lecherous one. Skipper noticed the glint behind the lemur's gaze, but couldn't quite identify the origin. "Unless it is the foreplay you are wanting; I warn you, though, I am very skilled at the foreplay."
A shudder ran up and down Skipper's backbone. "Let's just…get this…over with." Skipper unenthusiastically twisted onto his rotund stomach in an unbecoming show of submission that mammals like Julien craved. His breath was deafening in his ear canals, and he held his skull. Expect the worst, he told himself, wiggling his small tail in apprehension.
Julien resisted the itching impulse to dive in right then, and instead took it upon himself to 'ready' his abiding suitor. Instinctually, Julien was an inquisitive little thing, and, he thought, what better way to lubricate his partner than with saliva. He leaned forward, allured by a smell that was not as appalling as he'd imagined, most pointedly at the base of Skipper's tail. He stuck his tongue out and experimentally lapped at the tight ring of sinew, jeering while Skipper yelped.
"WHAT in pity's sake are you doing?" Skipper snarled, attempting to conceal the quiver in his voice. God, it was a repulsive experience (or so he told himself), and he buried his flat top with his flippers.
"Well, duh, preparing, unless you want to go dry." For emphasis, Julien ran a purposely slippery path over the penguin's rear. When Skipper failed to respond, he took it as the go-ahead.
He spit plentifully, and then probed his tongue into the penguin's anus. Thank God, Skipper was a penguin, always in nice, clean water. He didn't taste half-bad, but he only explored as far as Skipper's insides would tolerate a tongue to go. He pulled out, pleased that he had lubed his bed buddy adequately, and substituted his tongue with his fingers. "Now, just be limpy, mm'kay, and it'll hurt only a bitty-bit."
"Oh, yeah, okay." Skipper muttered, threateningly sardonic. He just about pulled away when Julien's inquisitive fingers felt up and into his entrails. Irritably, and most feebly, he tried to do as Julien insisted. Limp, he told himself, flaccid. Only, it wasn't going so well, until he felt the scorching, damp breath alongside the right surface of his cranium. "…" So freaked out by what was going on, he lay frozen.
"Don't be such a sticking in the mud." Julien crowed unkindly, scissoring his fingers tenderly. After all, there was much more in store. It really would not do a great deal of good to institute a struggle now, anyway. "I said be limpy, geeze, do you want it to be all hurty?"
The penguin growled under his breath, wanting to hammer a flipper into the side of that mammal's twisting muzzle. That would show him. Nevertheless, the counsel was effective, and it was not as disagreeable as he'd anticipated. When Julien believed Skipper was ready, he did another toggle, this time exchanging his fingers for his shaft, which he slithered against the stretched halo of muscle courteously. He didn't want to hurt the penguin, but to begin, he would have to. "Um, okie-dokie, dis'll be just a pinch! Oh, who am I kidding, it's gonna hurt for a few days."
With such, he popped the tip of his penis in and waited for the expected bawl. This by no means came, thanks to Skipper's tough militaristic training. The penguin clenched his chops and he enfolded both wings around his beak with eyes shut taut. He was growling in pain. Julien felt dreadful but he went unrelentingly in – not without sympathy – until he arrived at the hilt. "Just, uh, tell me when I should move. When it hurts the leastest, 'kay?" he grumbled, it was hard to resist his instincts.
Skipper only grunted, finding it curious for Julien to think of someone other than himself – of course, that sensibility must have flown the habitat following such a suggestion as this. An entire three months without Julien? Paradise! But at what price? It was too late to lament, Skipper was well aware, however, that revelation didn't stop him. Not at all. It might've even made him brood harder.
After a few moments, Skipper groaned, "O-okay, go ahead."
Julien sighed in reprieve; every minute had been an HOUR. And it'd only been a few seconds. Gradually, ever so gradually, he withdrew, and then pressed back in, figuring the slow and steady approach would be favorable for the both of them. The lemurs back at Madagascar weren't as delicate. Penguins were different, he supposed. They were birds and Julien highly doubted these four explicit penguins had ever been touched this way before, especially not Skipper, who seemed astute, but unmindful to Marlene's alluring advances.
The whines of pain were morphing into something else, something less…well, hard to listen to. Frankly, they sounded like Skipper was enjoying it. A fact Julien took great delight in – at least the silly penguin was getting something, too. The lemur took his time sliding out, then back in. He leaned over his dear Skipper's level head and murmured, "Faster?"
Utterly mortified, yet aroused, Skipper nodded noiselessly. Julien was ecstatic, and he heeded his partner's request excitedly. Julien's ears pricked at every beck and call from the lead penguin's bill, merry to be the one giving Skipper this poignant bliss. "…Urk, a little…" Skipper panted.
Upset, Julien slowed, much to his partner's annoyance. "What?"
"F…" Skipper stared malignantly at the wall, thinking for sweet Mother McArthur's sake; do not make me say it.
"Huh?"
"FASTER, you jerk, okay?!" Skipper veiled his cobalt eyes shamefully. Julien frowned at the understandable shiver in the penguin's tone. In a less callous tenor, and in the throws of passion, Julien was liable to bend forward to pet and, with any luck, put the leader at some ease. In any other situation, Skipper would have slapped this intruder into the middle of next week, but he reserved this for some other time. As Julien complied with enthusiasm, Skipper tried to ignore to whom it was he was giving his virginity to and enjoy it. He doubted this would lead to another such encounter with anyone else. "Idiot." Skipper hissed, trying not to enjoy it as much as he was.
After a few moments, Skipper just let go, not seeing the point in wanting to be miserable, and moaned a little louder than he had been previously. Julien's ears flew up over his head and he grinned like a lunatic. Sensually, he murmured a little something dirty into where he assumed his playmate's ears were. Skipper only huffed crossly in reply, hiding an approving smirk.
Julien bit his tongue as his pace accelerated, his features twisted in bliss. Skipper's own face had contorted the same way, albeit was clouded by a thin visage of hopeless misery one would feel after such an endeavor. One last thrust and Julien's sperm filled the penguin's insides. Panting, Julien fell over his partner with a satisfied smile. After a few moments, the king pulled out, leaving Skipper feeling a little empty after such a long tryst.
"…Tha-ank you, Skipper." Julien gasped for air, curling over Skipper. From previous occasions, his partners appreciated cuddling. From the way Skipper was twitching, he wasn't one of them.
"What're you doing?" the penguin asked, fatigued.
"Um, cuddling?"
"…oh, well, I'm not exactly big on touching."
"…"
"Which means let go."
"OH." Julien hopped away, embarrassed, and tucking his penis back into its sheath. He winced as Skipper struggled to sit up. "You may be a little on the tender side." Skipper eyed him warily. "For a while." Skipper still stared, brow raised. "Quite a while. Lookie, I have some of this numby gel stuff at my habitat," Julien offered, "I could bring it over—"
"No thanks, mammal," the penguin interrupted disrespectfully. "I can take it. A little ache is nothing." Skipper cringed as he made to his feet, being calculatingly deceitful. Julien looked unconvinced, but he didn't dispute.
"Okie dokie, whatever." The lemur shrugged dismissively, prohibiting his concern to carve a niche in his tone. "I'm going home, I'm sleepy."
"You do that." Skipper intoned, turning his back to the lemur. Julien paused, glanced at the reddening surface below the penguin's tail, but left through the tunnel behind 'Private's First Prize' trophy. Julien was insanely exhausted, his face matching Skipper's somewhat grim features. Once the nocturnal mammal left, Skipper allowed himself to groan in disgust and pain. Until the trophy swung back open and the rest of the penguins entered, all excitedly talking amongst themselves; Rico swallowed the pole and flag for their training exercise, whilst Private and Kowalski prattled on to Skipper of their successes.
Skipper plastered on a smirk, pretending to listen, but really trying to forget the burning sensation in his hard to reach places. "Well, boys, I think it's about time we hit the hay."
"Aw, already? Bu' it's only six a'clock." Private whined softly. Kowalski and Rico nodded in agreement, Kowalski hoping to continue calculating an important problem (or slip out to see Doris), and Rico had a fish-dinner-date with his doll. Rico stole a glance across the room to his blond haired plastic Barbie with a dreamy smile.
"Ah, alright, but I have to lie down." Skipper groaned, waddling drowsily across the floor and sliding into the lowest carved out stone bed. "'Night, boys."
"Uh, night, Skipper." Kowalski hummed sympathetically, and Private replicated his elder distractedly. When they heard heavy breathing, the penguins joined at the center of the room. "Something is terribly wrong."
Rico grunted and nodded, raising his head to peer over at Skipper's sleeping form. Something was off, he knew, but he couldn't be sure what. That was Kowalski's job, in any case, but it didn't stop him from worrying.
"Wot d'you think it could be, K'walski?" Private asked innocently, obviously very worried. "D'you think he may be sick?"
"Technically, maybe." The tallest penguin perked a brow pleasantly, "Though he didn't appear unwell this morning. Well, until Skipper asked to converse with Julien alone."
Private took a sharp intake of breath, "D'you think Julien said something?"
Rico chuckled at the immaturity, shaking his head dramatically. Kowalski had to agree. "Skipper isn't the type to let anything that lemur said get to him…of course, I could always be wrong." He mumbled, "I have been before."
"Maybe Marlene would know." Private suggested lamely with a yielding smile.
Kowalski raised a brow. "Perhaps, seems like a sound proposal. But are you suggesting we honestly leave Skipper here alone?"
"One of us could stay." Private recommended, playing himself up as one who would do good at protection. Kowalski smirked placidly as Rico laughed cheekily. "I – uh – I could do it. I mean…if ya think ya don't need me.
"I expect we could do without you, and Skipper." Kowalski stood straight, towering over Private's tiny frame. "What do you think, Rico?"
"Uh-huh." Rico nodded, still beaming, and just a little apprehensive with the idea of leaving the youngest, least mature of the three with their leader. But he was the explosives guy, and there was a fair chance Kowalski would need him.
"If Skipper awakens while we're out, Private, tell him we, uh, we went to see Marlene."
"Bu', isn't that wochur actually doin'?"
"Well, yes, but don't tell him why we went to see Marlene. Naturally."
"Uh-huh."
"Oh. Okay."
Kowalski and Rico shared a look, one that happened to pass Private by without notice. "Guard him with your life." Kowalski uttered finally, with a bit more infatuation than considered necessary, shaking his wing at Private in an almost intimidating manner. Rico raised his brow, taken aback by the tone, chuckling and rubbing the back of his head.
Private, like the little soldier he was, saluted. "Yes, sir, K'walski!" Kowalski, satisfied, left the way he came, pursued closely by Rico. Once the two had gone, Private took it upon himself to tidy their HQ up, knowing quite well that would make Skipper pleased. He pattered around quietly, picking things up and putting them away. Then he happened upon an odd sticky spot on the cement floor. He huffed, feeling it must have been Rico's doing. The spot was opaque and he pulled a mop out of a nearby carved out closet like room. As he began to mop it up, Skipper stirred, groaning, and beginning to rethink Julien's numbing gel offer.
"Ah, 'ello Skippeh." Private smiled merrily. "Wasn't able ta sleep well?"
Skipper started, for some reason believing he was alone, and turned, immediately regretting his sudden movement. Ouch, he burned and he realized he was dripping. "I jes' foun' this stuff here, so I'm cleanin' it up." Private eyed the liquid leaking from Skipper. "Hey, that's jes' like…"
"LISTEN, uh, listen, Private," Skipper coughed warily, looking at the opened trophy exit/entrance. "I think I need you to…uh, go get me some fish."
"It's not feedin' time Skippeh."
"…well, then…" Skipper stared, still leaking, and cringed as Private gawked candidly. "Ice cream?"
"Oh, boy!" Private squealed. "Okay, sir." He saluted his leader, then slipped through tunnel, leaving Skipper very happily alone.
"Oh, smoked salmon." He groaned and took the mop from the floor and began to mop it up himself, grumbling that Julien needed to be cleaner. Afterward, he gave himself the same treatment.
Half an hour later, Kowalski and Rico returned to find Skipper up and about and just watching TV with Private no where in sight. Shortly, Private returned through the hatch, with two bowls of ice cream, one vanilla and the other chocolate. Black and white. He spotted the two tallest penguins with consternation and high spirits. "Hi, hehe, ice cream?"
"Ah, Private." Kowalski murmured. "Welcome back." Rico rolled his eyes and patted the tallest on the back, pointing out that Skipper was fine and could take care of himself. They watched as Private chatted amiably with Skipper over their bowls of ice cream. But Skipper seemed preoccupied with something parallel to white-hot rage. The two joined their friends and Skipper's anger seemed to cool to an even irritation.
"Do you mind if I ask you something, Skipper…" Kowalski began pensively, looking to Private and Rico for approval. The two nodded their say-so, listening intently as Skipper said he could. "Well, you seem somewhat, I don't know, off, like there's something bothering you. There…wouldn't be, would there?"
Suddenly, Skipper feigned lethargy and promised to divulge the next morning. The three penguins were doubtful, but they could do little else besides wish him a good night sleep and join him.
"K'walski…wot did Marlene say?"
"She alleged that…" Kowalski paused; making sure the heavy breathing he heard was Skipper's. "Well, to put mildly, Private, Julien's feelings toward our leader are relatively complicated. Flanking something similar to love."
"Love?" Private repeated, confused. Private seemed to be discomfited. Between snores, Rico hacked instinctively, a sound both Private and Kowalski ignored.
"Indeed."
"What does it mean?"
"Technically? …I'm not sure."
And with that, they all fell into a broken slumber.
