The first stray into a new Fandom for me. Will see where this is going.
Triplet: Old Friends – Ben, Shanks, Mihawk (Part I)
Literary Tête-á-Tête
A storm raged outside the library's windows. With a loud roar a blinding white flash tore through the dark grey sky. Rain drops collided with the glass and the lone tree in the front garden of the two storeyed building bowed dangerously close to the ground. The library had closed an hour ago, giving you time to clean the tables and put the read books back into their places.
Mentally you had adapted yourself already to the idea of sleeping in the little room at the back of the library this night. There was no chance you would get home in one piece today, that much was obvious. But since you were used to such storms, your home island wasn't known by the name of 'Storm Island' for nothing, it didn't bother you. Fortunately the couch in the employee's lounge was very comfortable. You had spent there more than one night totally lost in one book or another.
Just when another bolt of lightening blazed, you thought you heard a scraping noise from the level above you. You were sure your senses were playing a trick on you. Nobody, except you, was in the building and ghosts don't exist, right? You frowned. Well, you had no choice, you simply had to look what was up there. Maybe it was a mouse! That seemed to be the most logical explanation.
Armed with a broom you tiptoed upstairs, creeping through the rows of books looking for the source of noise. A rustling made it's way to your ear. If your hearing was correct... . Slowly, fingers clutching desperately onto the broomstick, you turned to your right. You knew, that this way, there was a group of chairs near the windows. But this would mean that someone was still here. You couldn't remember somebody going upstairs today. Your heart pounded madly. You told it to slow the hell down. This was so not good.
You crouched behind the last bookshelf. Carefully, holding your breath in anticipation, you eyed around the wood.
By the way the man leaned above the book and his legs were folded under him you guessed he must be very tall. A nearly burned down candle illuminated him. He had an angular face with a long, slim nose and a high forehead. You suppose you couldn't call him pretty. His long dark hair had been tied back. You stopped in the middle of checking him out. He had just lightened a cigarette.
Your reflexes kicked in. Before you knew what you did, you stepped around the shelf, shoulders square, stating brusquely "Smoking isn't allowed here!".
Even before you finished the sentence you mentally kicked yourself. Yeah, great idea! The man looked up. He looked slightly surprised, the cigarette dangerously dangling from the corner of his mouth. The man blinked twice before slowly taking the cigarette and extinguish the smoulder between two moistened fingers.
A deep "I'm sorry" followed and he turned back to his book.
Now it was your turn to stand there perplex. That was it? Before you could work yourself into a fit your scanning eyes landed on a long rifle. Whatever you were about to say became stuck on it's way. Holding your broom protectively in front of yourself you backed away.
Regrettably straight into the bookshelf behind you. You fell rather graceless taking a lot of books with you. That successfully drew his attention. He stood up, unfolding to his full height. You swallowed. Oh, this was so not good. Your eyes widened when he came towards you. Even though he crouched down in front of you, holding out his hand and smiling gently, you felt like a trapped prey. You eyed him suspiciously, but took his hand.
One second you were sitting on the floor, the next you were standing. You hadn't expected that he was this strong. The surprise and momentum propelled you into his chest. He steadied you with a hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. Your hands rested against his rock hard chest since you had tried in vain to stop the collision. Embarrassed you stepped back, just to trip over the fallen books. Before anything could happen he gripped your upper arms and sat you on the chair he had occupied. Without a glance or a word he turned back to the books.
When he bent over to pick the items up and stack them back into the shelf, your eyes wandered to his behind and long legs. Your body seemed to have a will on its own today. Trying to make sure you had a clear head again, you kicked your left shin with your right foot. A gasp left your mouth. You had used a bit too much strength. You started rubbing your shin-bone frantically and cursing yourself quietly. That was why you didn't notice him turning around, surveying you obviously amused. One hand resting on the chair's backrest, the other placed on his hip he leaned down to your eye level.
'"Everything all right with you girl?" Amusement dripped from his every word.
"I'm not a girl but a woman. And no, nothing is right", you huffed at him. Why the candle chose that moment to go out was beyond your understanding.
So now you were sitting in a dark, empty library with a tall, strong and obviously dangerous man in front of you. The lightning outside gave his face a terrifying vicious effect. Even if you wished to, you simply couldn't throw him out while there was such a storm outside. Not caring what he would think you started swearing loudly using every phrase of your very colourful vocabulary.
By the end he sat on the floor Indian style laughing like there was no tomorrow. Your luck he couldn't see your pout and angry eyes since your back faced the window. Standing up, you patted invisible dust off your clothes and stalked back downstairs shouting "If you want another candle, follow me."
Flicking on the lights in the employee's lounge you grasped a set of candles and laid it on the table. You looked at the door. He hadn't followed you. Was this good? No,you decided, it wasn't, since you now didn't knew where he was. Shrugging you started brewing coffee for you.
"Can I have one too?" it sounded from behind you. Scared, you nearly jumped around, seeing him sitting peacefully on the couch, a book in his lap and that damned gun next to him. You nodded. Everything inside you screamed at you 'Throw him out!', but you didn't.
After a few minutes filled with uneasy silence two steaming cups of coffee sat between you two on the table.
Your slightly awkward situation was disrupted by crashing sounds and two peple talking on the street. The voices were coming closer and you could hear a man and a woman talking. Who was so crazy to walk around town in this weather? Just outside the window a man tried to shout against the wind "But lassy...sooooooo nice of you...w' hav' to find Ben...Bennie Ben...*hieks*".
The man in front of you shot up and pressed himself flat against the wall next to window. Putting a long, lean finger against his lips he beckoned you to keep silent. You waited until the voice faded. You leaned back smirking up at him. You hoped your interpretation of the situation was correct.
"Ben, huh?",you cooed at him.
"Yes. My name is Ben Beckman and that was my Captain. But I suppose I'm more like a babysitter.", he sighed.
"So you're a sailor, right?", excitement shone in your eyes. You were never one to dismiss an opportunity for new stories. And experience proved sailors to know many stories from all over the world.
"Yeah, I guess you could call me that.", he answered warily. You flew over to him, kneeling next to him on the couch, his hands clasped in yours. He watched your face. Shining eyes watching him in anticipation. He carefully removed the rifle from under your knees and settled himself more comfortably on the couch. Long he thought about what to tell you. Finally he settled on a few old stories from his early years with the Red Shanks.
Soon he learned that you were no delicate Lady and enjoyed an especially detailed and colourful reproduction even of the fighting scenes. It was easy for him to see that you totally immerged into the story by the straining of your body from suppressed eagerness and the shine in your eyes. You were sizzling inside. Ben was a talented storyteller. You felt like you had to jump up with a fierce roar the next second to face the enemy. He was slowly coming to the end of this story. You were just through a perilous battle out on the open sea between Shanks' pirate crew and a smart, sneaky slave trader.
While the ship's doctor cared for the pirates, Shanks and his second in command searched the enemy's ship for surviving slaves.
'The ship has been riddled by our cannonballs. Dead corps lay strewn over all the levels. Just at the bottom, hidden behind barrels and crates was a young woman. Her hands were still handcuffed, but it seemed that during the fight the wall she was chained to had been destroyed because the metal chain was still intact and wood was still hanging on the bolts' he said in his deep voice, staring at the opposite wall, lost in his memories, a remorseful look marring his face when thinking about all the death and suffering.
You waited in silence, holding your breath, but nothing more was coming. You were nearly sitting on his lap, so you looked straight up into his, asking breathlessly by curiosity.
"And? What happened to her?" He indulgently smiled at you.
"We dumped her, as well as the other slaves, off at the next island with a larger town, so they could make their way home." You frowned at him, openly showing you dissatisfaction with this ending.
"And that was it?", you shrieked at him, not at all trying to hide your disapproval, 'Nothing happened?'
He laughed low and smooth.
"Well, to be honest...no not really. I cared for her and we exchanged knowledge." That statement confused you. You lifted an eyebrow at him. His only reaction was chuckle. Ben thought it to be really cute how you cocked your head to the side like an owl, your eyebrows wrinkled, nearly meeting in the middle, your arms crossed under your chest, looking determined to figure something out that was just beyond your reach.
Shifting his gaze shortly at the clock behind you, he saw he still had a few hours until they were leaving this island, so why not indulge in a bit of foolery. He hadn't to worry about his captain, since Shanks seemed to have found a more appealing babysitter. Seeing that he was travelling around the world and having a longing for knowledge, you thought it safe to further inquire: "And what knowledge?"
He leaned over you, sliding his left arm along the couch's backrest, his right hand rested relaxed next to you.
"Do you really want to know?", he whispered against your ear. A bit irritated but ignoring his behaviour you looked him straight in the eye and answered annoyed: "Yes of course. Otherwise I wouldn't have asked."
He smiled at you and somehow you had the feeling you had done something very, very stupid. Kneeling before you he let his right arm glide under your legs, coming to rest in the crook of your legs, his left arm sneaking around your upper body, his hand sprawled over your back. In a swift movement he lay you on your back, legs outstretched beside him, your head resting on a pillow. Slowly his lips brushed over yours, like a butterfly's wing, from one corner of your mouth to the other.
He lifted his head to watch your reaction. For a moment you were completely dumbstruck. Then everything fell into place and understanding hit you. You were blushing madly because you had been so blind. You heard him chuckling above you. Smiling sheepishly up at him, you pondered him. You knew next to nothing about him. And you wouldn't see him again after this night. That much was sure. So why not enjoy this night? You were both trapped inside the library. So what spoke against it? It had already been a long time since you shared your bed with somebody.
You always thought that men were the same in most aspects so you weren't missing out on anything, which left you with enough time to pour into your passion: books. Wickedly you grinned at him. Lifting your weight onto your forearms, you touched your lips against his in a brief peck. That should be more than enough of a clear answer, you complimented yourself. Your were rewarded with a honest smile before he kissed you again.
Slowly you wound your arms around his neck. You lay back against the pillows and he followed you, never breaking from the kiss as he stretched out next to you on his side. He cradled you head in the crook of his left arm, his right draped loosely over your belly.
A glorious heat was radiating off his body, making you feel warm and secure. You snuggled closer to him, reviewing the evening. First you had been clumsy, than you had been scared, than you had been haughty, than you tried to keep distance, followed by making a fool of yourself. So why not change your attitude one more time. This night was something only to be known off by you and the man next to you. Why not enjoy it and feel like a femme fatale you have often imagined but had failed to be because of insecurity.
Teasingly you pressed into him, asking him from beyond downcast eyelashes in a timid way:"So what knowledge did you exchange?" He sent a naughty grin, accompanied by a raised brow, your way before answering against you throat.
"Many interesting ideas". Feeling daring you rolled onto your side facing him letting the fingertips of your left hand trail over his leg up to his neck and back again before settling on his behind, giving it a playful squeeze.
You felt the laughter rumbling in his chest. With his right hand he pressed you back onto your back before letting his right hand travel over your cloth covered body, while his left was playing idle with strands of your hair. You rubbed your cheek against the rough cloth of his clack shirt, inhaling his scent. The man smelled of the sea, a sweet, heavy fragrance tinged with the strong freshness of salt. Would his skin taste of salt?
While his hand had found it's way underneath your shirt and now discovered every curve and plane of your body he never broke the eye contact. You smiled gently at him. Letting your index finger trace over his high forehead, down the nose, stopping at his smiling lips, which bestowed a small kiss at the tip, before you cupped his warm cheek in your smooth palm.
He again leaned down to kiss you. You took your time kissing him. His kisses were unhurried, deep and sensually. You have always like kissing. A part you were never inclined to skip, even though men seemed to not value it so highly. So you enjoyed it to the fullest. A pleasant tingle spread in your stomach, making you want to giggle like a little school girl. The way one of his huge, warm hands pressed you close to his rock hard body and the other traced random pattern on your skin made you feel deliciously naughty and very appreciated.
Ben changed his position from beside you to straddling your hips. His hands slowly moved the hem of your shirt upwards and he kissed your skin, sometimes playfully grazing your hip with his teeth, his tongue plunging into you belly button before kissing way upward. He took a detour over your breasts, his tongue flipping over your collar bones before pressing heated kisses over your pulse. For a second he devoured your mouth with fervour, than suddenly changed to a chaste lingering kiss, before he broke away from you to smooth your ruffled hair. You were enjoying his considerate behaviour but were becoming more and more impatient.
You started tucking his black shirt out of his sash, successfully eliminating two piece of clothes at the same time. 'Go me!', you thought cheerfully. Every scar you could see you had to feel. Living on the sea for a long time had hardened his body. Startled you realised that he could not only verbally take you to pieces. The rifle on the ground next to the couch shot into your awareness. Because of his tenderness your forgot that this man was really dangerous. But the knowledge only fuelled your desire to be chosen by such a man. He may not be the prettiest but he was magnificent in his own way.
You sighed languorously when he skilfully removed your bra and bathed your mounds in gentle kisses and licks. It was true that you were not as well endowed as the girls in the tavern but that would have looked strange on you anyway since you were rather tall and androgynous with slim hips and a nearly not existing waistline. He let his hand rest on a breast feeling the ample nipple pucker up under his warm hand.
Lazily you let your hands glide over his back, feeling the warmth and tightly corded muscles move under your hands. You leaned back and enjoyed the feeling he provoked in you. Butterflies of pure happiness flew in your stomach. Never had you felt thusly desired. You freed his hair out of it's ponytail and ran your hands through the dark, heavy mass. He sat up, smirking at you, the hair falling over his broad shoulders giving him something devilishly dashing.
Holding eye contact he opened your trousers, pulled them over your hips, down your tights until he was stopped by your knee-length boots. He grinned and divested you of clothing down to your panties. He stood next to the couch and removed his own boots. When he looked up again you had stretched out fully on your back, your arms lying over your head, giving him an unhindered view. There was no hiding his arousal and your heart fluttered in glee having this man under your spell.
Feeling naughty, you moved a bit. Slowly you arched your back a bit off the couch, always keeping eye contact. You slowly sucked your right index finger into your mouth, letting the moistened finger run down your throat, over your breast, circling your nipples, straight south to the hem of your panties. You hooked both thumps into under it to slowly wiggle out of them.
Laughter was bubbling inside your chest and you had a hard time suppressing it. In his haste to get rid of his trousers he nearly fell onto the floor, face first. He smiled sheepishly at you which drew a chuckle from you. He was hovering over you on all fours. You realised this wouldn't work, since the couch was too narrow.
Seeing realisation showing on your face, he beckoned you with a fluid movement of his hand to lie on your side facing the room so he could slide behind you. He held you close to his chest, with his left arm under you giving him easy access to your breast, his right hand caressing your thighs. Slowly his hand slipped into the valley between your legs, caressing you in his unhurried way. You shifted your weight to your left forearm, turning your face up to his, your right hand caressing his side and thigh.
Pleasant waves of pleasure washed over your senses, slowly growing. When you started moving your hips in time with his hands movements, he decided to take it up a notch and let a long finger slip into you, what you acknowledged with a sharp intake of breath and a hard buck of your hips into his hands. Taking his time he prepared you for him.
When you writhered against him in unfulfilled need he lifted one of your legs, positioning his own in between, pulling your hips to accommodate him more easily. He started with a slow rhythm of long, strong strokes, always nearly leaving your body before sheating himself again in your warmth. When the volume of your groans and gasps grew he picked up the pace, pressing your body against his. The knot in your lower body exploded, making you press yourself against him almost violently. Your whole body shuddered. When he lay you onto your back again you felt sated, happy but very tired. He kissed you tenderly and held you close until you were asleep and making sure you were tucked securely under the blanket before he left the library.
You woke the next morning by a woman's voice screeching in anger. When you turned around you saw her passing the window in a mad dash towards the harbour.
"That hormone ridden bitch! If I find her she better has a reason!", the young women cursed loudly. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you set to straightening your clothes. Seemed like you weren't the only one losing your marbles last night.
