Chapter Ten: You Have Found a Friend
Douglas has always been a heavy sleeper—he accepts this fact about himself. This night has been no different, possibly even more so due to the post-coital blast of chemicals in his brain that relaxed him. Actually, them. The weight on his chest is familiar in many ways, but there is something different about it. He tilts his chin a little and looks down onto the top of Martin's curly head. The other man is still sleeping deeply, his muscular chest pushing in and out in slow, regular intervals against Douglas', a metronome of contentment. For his part, though, Douglas is still concerned about the reception he is going to receive. There's no chance of moving yet; that might only make Martin think that he doesn't want to be right where he is, and there isn't much that is further from the truth.
Douglas considers several scenarios that could occur upon the captain waking, but since all of them end in anger, Douglas does his best to push them aside. He sighs and carefully threads his fingers through Martin's hair, gaining a soft hum from Martin in reply. Perhaps this won't end badly, after all. Feeling bolder, he softly caresses Martin's neck and shoulders. Instead of recoiling from his touch, Martin pushes his face into Douglas' chest.
That's really the only invitation that Douglas needs so he carefully cradles Martin's back in his big hands and slowly flips them over. Douglas holds Martin's chest against his but props himself up on his knees in order not to crush the smaller man and waits for the moment of realization to hit. It is against his nature, to not show his lover some appreciation in the meantime, so he does it in the best way he knows how: by holding him.
Douglas puts a soft kiss on Martin's chin and then another on each cheek. He is leaning forward to place one on his forehead when Martin's eyes open. For an instant, Douglas is frozen to the spot. He can feel a line of sweat break out on his neck and back.
"Douglas?" Martin takes a moment to focus and Douglas takes great pride in the fact that his jade green eyes move from slightly hazy to clear and astounded in rapid succession. Douglas almost chokes on the emotion that wells up in his throat.
"Douglas," Martin repeats delicately.
Once again, Douglas finds himself waiting for the inevitable questions and accusations. He soon runs out of patience, however. He gazes down into Martin's face and tries to school his expression so that perhaps the fear that he is feeling will not show.
"Martin," he states, his mouth gone suddenly dry. Douglas clears his throat and begins again. "Martin, I would understand if you are a little confused…"
He starts to back off, to get away, but Martin's expression stops him.
"Douglas," Martin says again, this time more sternly. He cocks an eyebrow as if to tell Douglas that he is the one being an idiot.
Douglas stops himself and looks again. Martin's lips are parted slightly, teeth peeking out from in between. His face is flushed, a gorgeous rosy color. There is no sign of a headache or any other symptom of a hangover. Thank God.
"How are you feeling?" Douglas has to ask, regardless of their intimate position; he would want to know anyway.
Martin snorts. "With my fingers." At that, he grabs Douglas' hips in his hands and grips them a little harder than absolutely necessary, effectively pinning Douglas in place.
In retaliation, Douglas leans in and lightly pinches the side of Martin's neck in his teeth. Martin moans and makes a single little buck with his hips. Even if they weren't naked, Martin's interest in the proceedings would be difficult to miss.
"Ready for round two?" Douglas asks in between tiny nips to the underside of Martin's jaw.
"If it's anything like last night, yes." Martin says on an exhale.
Douglas pulls back from his ravishing of Martin's neck in order to look him straight in the face. "Enjoyed that, then?"
Martin grins at Douglas' smirk. "Yes." He squeezes Douglas' hips a little tighter. Douglas rolls them slowly and Martin groans. He doesn't say anything else but does move his palms so that they are cupping Douglas' buttocks.
At this point, Douglas decides there is no point on doing anything except giving in. Martin is apparently more than ready to enjoy the ride so this time Douglas curves his back over the supple body beneath him and claims Martin's mouth. Martin bucks up a little, instinctively searching for more of everything: more heat, more friction. Douglas is only too happy to oblige.
Douglas trails his hands over Martin's torso, resting his palms on the flat plane of his stomach as they grind against each other.
"God, that's exquisite," Douglas breathes against Martin's mouth.
"Hmmm, so's this." Martin palms Douglas' backside more firmly than before.
"It is?" Douglas asks, thoroughly enjoying the touch that is both gentle yet commanding at the same time. Exactly the way the captain guides GERTI through her paces. Douglas huffs, realizing that he has been watching Martin's hands on the jet's yoke since day one…and has wanted to feel them on his body since long before Helena left him.
Martin shimmies down so that his mouth is on Douglas' neck and now there's the tip of one of those fingers lightly brushing between Douglas' cheeks. It's been so long and Martin does seem to be the type to take it easy…maybe even too easy, probably enough to drive Douglas insane. What the hell. Why not? He pushes himself up on his hands so they he can look into Martin's face. He is suddenly overtaken with the realization that anytime he sees Martin under a vehicle of the flying or non-flying variety, he is never going to not be able to remember this moment without the sizzling jolt of arousal.
Martin's expression is open, his eyes questioning. Douglas knows that he's not the only one that has been afraid to push their boundaries too far.
"Yes, just let me up for a sec."
"Alright," Martin sighs, dropping his hands to the mattress.
Douglas starts to walk away from him. "Actually, you know, I've got a smashing idea."
Martin tilts his head in Douglas' direction.
"Join me in the shower?" He doesn't wait for the answer, though, instead plows on ahead to the loo, giving Martin the space to consider.
He uses the toilet and turns on the taps, then climbs in and starts counting, just to keep his mind occupied and mostly off of the raging hard-on pulsing between his legs. Over the spray, he hears the lightly padding steps of his captain. About thirty seconds after that, the shower door farthest from Douglas slides open and a very naked, mostly still-aroused Martin steps in, his eyes as big as saucers. Douglas recognizes the question there, the idea that Martin would even wonder that he is wanted…
"Is this okay?" Martin asks, derailing Douglas' train of thought.
"Are you kidding? Come here."
Douglas opens his arms and folds Martin into them, kissing him lightly under the spray. He runs his hands down Martin's sides, then the backs of his thighs, relishing the soft moans that he receives in response. He encourages Martin to turn so that his back is against Douglas' chest. Douglas is surprised to note that when Martin's curls are wet, his hair is still almost to his shoulders. Running his fingers through it, Douglas has another brilliant idea. Not every touch has to be sexual in nature to feel good.
"Want me to wash it for you?"
For a few heartbeats, Martin doesn't answer, but the way he leans back ensures that Douglas knows he hasn't overstepped his bounds.
"You want to?"
Absolutely, Douglas thinks, I want to bring back the captain who successfully made me agree to bottom for him without ever saying a word…anything to make you stay comfortable with me. "Yes," he answers, reaching to the little shelf behind his head for the trial-size bottle of shampoo.
Douglas massages Martin's scalp as he goes, thoroughly basking in those lovely sounds Martin is making in his throat. When he tilts his head and rests the top of it against Douglas' chest so that he can see the positively rapturous expression on his face, Douglas almost comes right there. He notices Martin's lovely long eyelashes are frosted from the water as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. He turns Martin around again in order that he can taste it.
"That's gorgeous, captain." Douglas mumbles as he swipes Martin's cheek with his tongue. Martin is all but purring when he sinks his fingers into Douglas' hair and pulls him down for a kiss.
"What about you?"
Douglas has to actually consider that one, though he really does need to wash, this electric pull between them almost makes him rethink it.
" 's alright, captain, I'll take care of it. Would you mind terribly to order us up some breakfast? This old man is going to need the energy." Douglas smiles.
Martin grins back, raises up on his toes to plant one more kiss on Douglas' lips and lightly runs his fingers over Douglas' aching cock, which springs instantly back to attention. Douglas grips Martin's shoulders hard and has to mentally restrain himself.
"Breakfast, please?" he mumbles against Martin's mouth, then his neck, then his chest. He tries to ignore the fact that it sounds like he's pleading for mercy. Martin laughs and climbs out of the shower, giving Douglas quite the show with his muscular back and haunches. That's mine, thinks Douglas as he squirts shampoo into his palm.
ooo
They only get about three bites into their omelets because Douglas can barely take watching Martin eat. His brain is frying on the sensuality of those lips wrapping around the fork tines, the fingers gripping around a hot mug and he thinks he is going to explode. Finally giving up all pretense, he pushes his plate away, calmly walks around the little round table and drops to his knees between Martin's feet.
Martin stops moving and stares down at his the first officer, his fork held steady in the air where he was aiming it towards his mouth. Douglas moves closer, using Martin's thighs to pull himself forward. The creamy yellow egg on the fork begins to fall off in tiny crumbs as Martin's hand begins to shake. After pulling the waist of his pajama bottoms down, Douglas swipes his tongue up the inside of the top part of one thigh, across Martin's abs and then down the other thigh.
Martin drops the fork on the table as the moist heat of Douglas' mouth engulfs his cock. Some noise comes out of his throat, but he will never admit to it being a whine.
"Jesus," he breathes as his hands flutter in the air over Douglas' head. Unsure exactly where to put them, he grabs one of his shoulders in one and the side of his own thigh in the other. This makes it twice today that Douglas has managed to surprise him—and do things that bring back absolutely no memories whatsoever. Things with Marcus were—well, if he is completely honest with himself, he was pretty much Marcus' fucktoy. So far, everything with Douglas has been different, even down to the smallest touches.
And the way Douglas looks at him! The mere idea of someone desiring him, the little Captain from MJN with the too-big uniform and the baby face…that is amazing on its own. But this? The trust Douglas is showing him is unparalleled in his universe. The sensations are so incredible that Martin soon loses track of exactly which touches are Douglas' lips, tongue and oh god, a hint of teeth. There's a flicker of soft/hard/soft on the head of his cock and when it jerks against the sensation, his hips push forward; somehow he keeps from choking Douglas.
The tendrils of an impending climax start to wind their way up Martin's spine and he wants so much to just let go. He may have been relaxed last night and it was wonderful, but this is the start of something new and he doesn't want to bullocks it up now. It is difficult for him to not thrust forward in Douglas' mouth and grab his head and just take. Martin has never been one for rough sex and he's not about to start …at least not without a long conversation about boundaries first.
"Stop!" Martin cries, his voice cracking. Surely, it is one of the hardest things he's ever done.
Douglas pulls off Martin's cock by backing away very slowly and letting it fall out of his mouth, the head rubbing against the roof of Douglas' mouth. Martin's breath catches in his throat when the warm brown eyes meet his from the floor and he almost growls.
"Yes, captain?" Douglas asks, licking his lips.