Title: Far From Strangers

Author: mirroredsakura

Notes: Done for Brisa around the Pewp Deck RP-verse. So, AU, and total crack AU while we're at it. It involves Jesus. Yes that Jesus. Only in passing of course, but he's there. There's just no sex with Jesus and I think a good lot of you are glad about that. Axel and Zack (FFVII). What would happen if they were pirates. No one can tell me the two of them wouldn't make damned sexy pirates.

Rating: R for fucking. Being done and being screamed both.

*

We're too strange to be strangers,
Too far gone to be friends,
Too lovesick to be lovers,
Only one way this could end…
- Nautibitz, "Crash and Burn"

*

Zack was sprawled out comfortably in the shade of the main mast and reading a book when Axel staggered up the plank, stumbled, fell, and lay giggling against the deck.

…Okay, so Zack had been sprawled out comfortably in the shade of the main mast and a book balanced neatly on his face while he napped, but that was just a minor detail. Just like the lack of shirt and shoes. Those were for times he was on-duty after all.

Besides, it wasn't as if Axel cared, and since Axel was the only one who bunked out at the ship pretty much at all times, even when they made port, that made the sentiment as universal as Zack needed to care about.

And, he thought wryly to himself as he sat up, sleep forgotten, judging by the look of 'im, he's not in any state for much memory involvement either.

Probably meant they were stuck in port for at least a day or two more. Bah.

Not that he didn't like Fiuay… he did. Time enough of prodding the captain's humor into something resembling decent—pirates were far from known for being polite, but Zack was often of the opinion Axel threw around too many four-letter obscenities than was probably good for the man's continued health in mixed company—and nudging the crew into keeping them from ramming into the first reef they came to. It certainly got him wanting a few familiar faces that he didn't get to wake up to every morning.

It just got boring, and they'd already been here for… how long had they been here?

Judging time had never been Zack's forte, but he was bored with this place, with all its sand and trees and… well, people. Ready to move on. The open ocean was freedom, and that was where he wanted to spend his life.

Couldn't leave the captain lying there in his flamboyant new coat, poking at the deck and talking to it, though. With that thought, he banished the others and was up and loping over to redhead in seconds, crouching down next to Axel's head and poking the redhead's nose. "You all right there, Boss?"

Axel floundered for a moment as if trying to remember how to move, raising hazy green eyes up in his direction, half-lidded and unfocused. "Mmnnuuhhh?" was about all he could say.

Okay… perhaps he could start small. "Where've y' been?"

Hell if that didn't start the captain giggling again. "I wash wiff JESHUSH!" he slurred, latching onto Zack's arm as if by chance—he looked as if he'd been aiming for Zack's shirt—and shook it, dropping his voice as if imparting an important secret, "he paid for my drinksh!"

…That certainly explained a lot. Pirate or no pirate, Captain Axel, hardened corsair at your service and all that, the man could not hold his drink.

Zack didn't often have opinions about divinity figures, but right then he was torn between thinking the Son of God was kind of a cool guy and wondering whether or not He'd done it on purpose just to make Zack's life just that much more difficult.

"Well I can't say I've had that happen all that often, myself," he continued, his cheerful voice never faltering, as he reached down and attempted to wrestle a good hold on Axel's shoulders in order to haul him up. "Man talk about His dad at all? Give you an in on the state of your immortal soul and all that? Nice guy?"

Axel made a loud "Pffffft!" sound, as Zack managed to drag his near-deadweight onto his feet. "He'sha jerk!" he continued with what the man must obviously think was a secretive whisper. "Talkin' 'bout… 'bout… 'bout the Panther 'an how there's no shax—shacksh—nggh shex 'an I shaid I wash trying but you wo—wood—wouldn't—wantto 'an—"

Zack started at that, nearly dropping his redheaded and somewhat cumbersome burden that he was slowly dragging towards the captain's quarters. "Wait—what? Whoa, whoa, whoa, back it up there boss, since when've you ever been trying to get in my trousers?"

He'd have thought he would've noticed it by now, keeping a sharp weather eye out for the captain like he did!

Axel snorted, "I haven't," he informed Zack imperiously, or as imperiously as it was possible to be when he was staggering like a… very large staggering thing (Zack wasn't in the best state of mind to come up with similes right then) "'ve been trying not to wif yer 'besht matesh, huh Akshel?' and yer 'whuter friendsh for, Akshel'!" He snorted again. "Friendsh!"

Maybe it was one of those things with mixed messages and all that but, "Well what's wrong with that?" Zack demanded. "I can't be your friend and want in your pants at the same time?"

…Oops…

Axel looked puzzled by this, staring up Zack's face like he'd never seen it before, his jaw somewhat slack so his lips were parted in a small 'o', lending to the surprise. His cheeks were flushed too, whether it was because of the alcohol (likely) or embarrassment (also likely) or anxiety (less likely). Zack found it disturbingly sexy. "Do you?" Axel asked him candidly, and even through the reek of alcohol, his honest curiosity was unfeigned.

…Axel was not supposed to be that matter-of-fact. He was supposed to be gruff and "raaargh!" (hand-flailing a most unanticipated bonus, of course) and stomp off blushing as red as his hair.

Well, perhaps not that last. He'd probably forgotten how to walk by now.

"Uh," Zack managed intelligently. "Well. Maybe. I mean I've thought about—wait, whoa, whoa, whoa what in God's name are y' doing???"

Because Axel's face had gone all suspicious, and his hand had gone wandering—right between Zack's legs. A good deal of Zack's common sense and good intentions went diving overboard at that, as his penis informed him it very much liked the way the situation was going, and stood up all the straighter in order for its non-voice to be heard. He jumped as Axel's hand began rubbing, losing his grip on Axel's shoulders long enough so that the man slid down his chest in a boneless sprawl to his knees.

Zack's penis informed him that the day was looking very much up, and please don't you dare spoil it, thank you very much. Zack swore.

"Making shure," Axel replied shifting his hand, nuzzling the hardness beneath the fabric sloppily as he clumsily began undoing the buttons, "Hafta make shure."

Zack let out a groan as his cock sprang free, and Axel's tongue stretched out to lap at the very tip of it, sliding along the slit. Axel gave a delighted giggle at that, a sound he would never have forgiven himself for if he'd ever uttered it when sober. That brought Zack enough back into his senses to grab at the back of Axel's head, and forcefully pull him away. "No," he managed to croak hoarsely, while his penis screamed at him and demanded its separation papers so that it could go back to Axel's tongue, "you're… you're drunk and—"

Axel growled at him, "I don't care," he annunciated carefully, so that the slur was hardly noticeable, batting at the hands in his hair, "I want to."

And then he was straining forward against Zack's hand, catching the head of Zack's cock between his lips, swirling his tongue around the very tip of the head. Zack's knees wobbled on him, and he let go of Axel's hair so that he could stumble backwards, back coming up hard against the mast.

Axel didn't seem to care because he was smiling now, and, good Lord, he was crawling towards Zack on all fours, as slow and deliberate as a cat. His coat was half-unbuttoned and hanging off one shoulder, the rough shirt he'd been wearing underneath was too small and strained at his shoulders, his cheeks and lips were still flushed and Zack could've sworn Axel's eyes had gone greener than he'd ever seen them. Drunk or not, the man was enjoying this!

Axel's hands were sliding up his thighs before he knew it, settling firmly on his hips, and pushing them back against the roughened wood of the mast, his tongue flicking out and lapping at him again, the sensitive spot, right beneath the head. Zack's fingers were buried in Axel's hair again, shuddering as he pressed his head back hard against the mast, gasping as Axel drew forward, enveloping him in that slick, wet heat and nnnnh…

The redhead took him wholly into his mouth with a sound Zack had never heard from the man before—a cross between a purr and a deep growl from the very bottom of Axel's throat, vibrations playing all along his shaft and he bucked his hips, or tried to, against Axel's firm grip, wanting more.

He must've said something, or hissed it between gritted teeth because Axel's fingers dug harder into the flesh of his hips—there'd be bruises later, but who gave a damn about that?—and could feel Axel's smirk, lips curling up as he sucked; hard, tasting, touching… and then the teeth!

Oh fuck, the teeth!! Scraping up along the sensitive flesh, pain with all that mounting pleasure and he was fucking loving it, wanting so much fucking more—faster, harder, now. Axel was grinning, his eyes rolled up to watch him as Zack panted for more, fists clenched so tightly in his captain's hair he was sure it would've hurt if it'd been shorter and felt lucky it wasn't.

He felt lucky regardless, if only because Axel knew how to use his fucking tongue!

Zack knew Axel could feel the moment when he lost control, when his hips started bucking wildly and Axel let him, hands sliding down to the flesh of his buttocks, gripping him hard and working at him so that it built higher and higher and oh fuuuck—

"Boss," he managed to choke out in warning, "Fuck Boss, if you keep doing that, I'm gonna—"

Axel's eyes rolled up to him again, and they'd darkened, the pupil swallowing the iris as the corners of Axel's lips tilted upwards again and he did that throaty purring thing again and the sensations that came from that sent him over—saw stars and blinding white lights and a chorus of fucking angels, God it was that fucking good.

Fighting for vision, Zack forced his eyes to see again, to look down at the ship's captain, on his knees with—oh holy fucking shit—his come spilling over and slipping through the corner of Axel's mouth to slide down to his chin.

Zack had the strangest feeling that if anyone else walked past—shit, people, plain sight… gah fuck it—and had seen Axel; hot, sweaty… the half-lidded eyes, the mussed hair, the content, self-satisfied smirk, and the evidence of Zack's orgasm drying on his face… to them, he'd most likely look like hell.

And all Zack could think of just then was that Captain Axel was one hot, sweaty, utterly sexy and fuckable redheaded bastard and that he wanted him right then and there.

Reaching down and grasping him by the shoulders, Zack managed to haul him back up, leaning back on the mast to make up for the fact that his legs didn't really seem to want to work yet and support him, much less the near-deadweight of an un-cooperating Captain Axel.

He managed it, at any rate, and soon had Axel slumped against his chest, looking up at him with those lazy, half-lidded eyes and a silly half-smile.

"Are you sure yet?" Zack asked, a deep, husky growl making his words thrum in his throat, "Enough proof for you?"

Axel purred against him, tongue stretching out to follow the line of Zack's throat, "Yeah…"

He didn't giggle this time though, so perhaps he was actually coming to his senses.

Hell if Zack was having any truck with that just yet.

Dragging him up by the one arm around Axel's shoulders and the other hand on his collar, he kissed him roughly; hot and open-mouthed, and tasted the faint bitterness of his own release mixed with the alcohol the redhead must have drank before returning to the ship.

He kissed Axel breathless, pulling away at last to when they were both panting for air, and Axel was hanging on him for balance. "Are you sure yet?" he repeated, his voice changing to mimic that faint purr of Axel's that promised more, oh so much fucking more…

Bless the man, Axel could be plenty thick about plenty of things, but in this he was quite a quick study.

"I don't know," he answered in a hoarse little whisper, tonguing Zack's lower lip before catching it between his teeth and tugging, eliciting a hiss that Zack couldn't—and didn't particularly want to, when it came to that—hold back, "perhaps you might have to show me more…"

And that pretty much did it.

With a quick jerk, Axel was the one shoved up against the rough, sun-warmed wood of the mast, the back of his neck flush against it while Zack kissed him again. His fingers hurriedly tugged at the buttons to Axel's new coat, cursing like the sailor he was at their inability to cooperate with him, before he could tug it down and let it pool at their feet in a puddle of fine fabric. It lay there for several seconds before he kicked it pragmatically aside, and sent it skidding down the newly-polished deck. The shirt Axel had been wearing was soon yanked over the captain's head, and set on due course to follow his coat, leaving Zack purring as he ran callused fingers over the figure that somehow seemed to be finely muscled and yet shapely all at the same time.

Zack broke away from the kiss to track a trail of hard, bruising kisses down the line of his Axel's throat; biting and sucking—that'd leave a mark later, mark Axel as his—and tonguing the fine lines of Axel's clavicle, as he continued moving, ever lower and lower.

His tongue flicked out to one nipple, swiping it with the tip, just enough to make Axel shudder before he locked his lips over it, swirling his tongue around it and grinning wildly when he heard Axel moan a harsh, "Yessss!"

Axel's hands were at the back of his head, pulling him closer, urging him for more. Never faltering, Zack bit down, hard, and held on as Axel groaned again above him, thrashing all that wild, glorious hair from side to side. When Zack pulled away, there was a white imprint of his teeth that ringed Axel's nipple—hadn't broken the skin, he couldn't do that to the boss—and Axel was moaning, "Oh fuck, oh fuck," over and over above him. That was hot and satisfying and hell if it didn't do wonders for Zack's ego.

His hands soon found their way to Axel's belt undoing it quickly—that was easy, it was large and the buckle simple to maneuver—and then the buttons to the captain's pants—that was harder, all those maddening, maddening buttons—tugging them down; one of them reaching in and making Axel cry out. His fingers dug deeper into flesh of Zack's shoulders as his hands clenched. Not that Zack minded in the least, as several other swift jerks had them—Axel's pants, not his hands—out of Axel's boots, and on the floor.

Good enough, he decided as he urged Axel's legs apart, and still palming the other man's erection when he hit on his dilemma.

Where was the fucking lube??

Zack didn't have any. He never exactly expected to get any on the main deck. Nor was Zack about to ask Axel if he had any, or begin hunting down the man's clothes and rifling through the pockets, and he wasn't about to just stop and go hunting below decks for something, anything.

He might start thinking if he did that, and it was a very hard task to not think about what he was doing, because then he might get hit in the face by his own goddamn morals and for once, Zack didn't want to have to face those; not here, not right now.

With a growl, his fingers went to his mouth, and came out glistening. It'd have to do. Moments later, he was pulling Axel's thighs apart even wider and pushing them past that ring of muscle.

Axel stiffened for a moment, his mouth open and his jaw tensing and Zack was about to open him mouth and tell him to relax when the man did it all on his own, and Zack's fingers sank in to the knuckle. Then, and Zack's eyes jerked up to Axel's face in surprise, Axel began moving his hips, driving Zack's fingers even further inside. No telling how much that might have hurt the captain, but Axel's mouth was open and muted pleasure sounds were spilling out from his throat, so it couldn't have mattered too much to the man. With a muted growl, Zack pulled his hand back, and spat in it, slicking up his cock as much as he could under those circumstances.

Zack thrust into him like that; one of Axel's legs up on either side of him, supported by Zack's hands as the redhead braced his back against the mast, not stopping until he'd drawn a line of white fire through him and made him cry out. He didn't stop until he was buried fully inside him, and knowing how rough it was, without lube and without much preparation, and how much it had to hurt was all that could make Zack pause, to let Axel breathe, gasping with the pain, and letting it fade for just a moment.

Then he was withdrawing and Axel was gasping again, scrabbling at something to hold onto before finally digging his fingers into Zack's shoulders again and Zack was building a steady rhythm inside him. He couldn't help it. He was moaning too as the background sounds evaporated; the slap of the water against the sides of the ship, the soft creaking and swaying of the boards… all that was left was their heavy breathing, the smack of flesh against flesh, and the little whimper-moans Axel made every time Zack thrust into him, driving him more and more wild each and every time they left his lips.

One of Axel's hands had moved to his cock, pumping it to match Zack's pace, as Zack lost that last measure of control and kept going; there was red with the white now, his cock came out dripping with blood and thicker fluids, and Zack didn't like that, didn't want that, but Axel was urging him on, was leaning forward and fastening teeth into Zack's shoulder which gave him nothing left, incoherent thoughts blurring together—harder, deeper, more, oh God, faster, faster, faster…!

Axel came first with a ragged cry; sticky white fluid spattering them both, nails digging hard into the flesh of Zack's shoulders. Zack cried out with him as the redhead clenched muscles Zack had never even known existed there…

It didn't take long after that; Zack came only moments later, crying out as his spine arched for what felt like forever before he was toppling forward against Axel with a hoarse groan, slumping against the redhead's shoulder and panting for breath.

As if orchestrated, the two of them slipped downwards, spilling to the deck in a tangle of limbs and frantic gasping.

Axel was asleep practically before he hit the deck. Zack was fast on the same track, though he had the good sense to reach out and snatch at the edges of Axel's coat, dragging it over to cover the both of them, and just in time too as Zack heard the distinct shuffle-thump of someone approaching.

He glanced up with half-lidded eyes just in time to catch Jesus amble past the gangplank, look up in their direction, snort audibly, and continue on His way, spatters of blood trailing in His wake. "About bloody time," He was muttering as He went.

He, Zack decided, was going to build that man a church for this, dedicated to the greatness of Jesus. H. Christ, pirate pimp. The man was awesome.

…Later. Sleep now.

*

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