Care
Fandom: Sea of Remnants
Pairing: Haig × Gale (Medising)
Tags: Smut, Intercrural sex/thighjob
Summary: Gale has been driving Haig up the wall with his antics lately. They have a little "talk".
(Also posted to AO3)
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How many people could have the frontman of the famous pirate band, Ranbo at their feet? The lead singer who's all bravado and explosive energy, now kneeling on the floor. His face paint is smudged to the degree of messiness not on brand to his usual look. His arms have been tied to his back with thick ropes. His signature jacket is thankfully undamaged, but the white pants have been tarnished and stained by dirt, sand, and multiple footprints.
"Come onnn. I said I was sorry!" Gale whines, struggling against his bonds. Unfortunately, he's only met with indifference. Haig has never been expressive, especially through his face. It's his words that do all the cutting.
"Yet you still haven't learned your lesson." Haig leans back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing with exasperation comparable to that of the owner of an unruly pet, which wouldn't be entirely inaccurate with how Gale behaves sometimes. They all have their hands full trying to keep their leader safe from the trouble he ropes them into when he lunges head first into anything that drew his interest. It's exactly why they're even having this little "meeting" now.
"They were asking for it!" Gale pouts. "Idiots running their mouths. They're lucky I only gave them matching black eyes!"
"And that is worth you hurting your hands?" Haig's hand drops to grip the chair's armrest. "Need I remind you how you play your instrument? We have weapons for a reason, Gale. We can't just be out brawling with nothing but fists and then start postponing shows because we got hurt."
"I can still play—"
"You got hurt!" Haig snaps, cutting off any more arguments. His foot stomps down on the hard wood floor. He surges forward in his seat in a fit of emotion and snatches Gale's face with one hand, his thumb and forefinger digging uncomfortably into his cheeks to the point he can feel the teeth inside. He forces Gale to meet his eyes.
"I'm the one who has to patch you up. I'm the one who has to take care of you and your incessant needs," Haig says, his gaze dark and searching for something from within Gale's widened eyes. "So excuse me for wanting some recompense for all the work you put me through, captain." He says the title as if he's spitting venom. Haig flicks his hand to discard Gale to the side, but he might as well have slapped the man with how Gale suddenly feels like he's got the wind knocked out of him.
Gale stays silent for a beat. It's rare for Haig to be so impassioned for anything except the health and safety of the crew, so it isn't hard to guess where the aggression he's showing now stems from.
It's unbelievably attractive.
Gale takes a shaky breath in, turning to face Haig.
"Then, let me make it up to you."
"I don't want money," he says, his tone clipped, still carrying an upset edge.
"Of course. We got a pretty big payout from our last show, right? 'Course you don't need money." Gale smiles, a small and disarming one that would look more appropriate to be given to a friend while they're hanging out on a beach, rather than in the cramped medical bay—well, room—of a ship with one of them on the floor. He has a plan brewing. He just needs to pull it off. Gale trudges on his knees, coming closer until he's between the doctor's long legs.
"So how about a little stress relief instead?" He rests his cheek on his inner thigh, looking up with a gaze that is down right lecherous. The implication cannot be mistaken. He's rewarded with a flush that starts high on the tip of Haig's ears, though his face is unchanged.
He has to push for it. Now.
"As fast and as hard as you want." Gale licks his lips, opening his mouth slightly and deliberately going slow so Haig can see how his tongue drags over his fangs. A little hint of danger he knows Haig isn't opposed to. "I won't bite either, unless you want me to." He nuzzles into the chaps-covered leg, pressing a kiss to one of the buttons keeping the yellow fabric together. So close to his prize. Gale's eyes flit down to the crotch directly in front of him for a split second then back to his face again.
Haig moves to hold Gale by his chin, brushing a thumb over the painted lips, picking up the red on its way. The glare that was boring a hole into Gale's skull is replaced by pin point focus as the singer slips his tongue out again to catch the finger, drawing it into his mouth and sucking shamelessly, hollowing his cheeks. Gale lets his eyes flutter shut.
And is promptly choked by Haig unexpectedly shoving his thumb all the way in, pressing down on the root of his tongue and triggering the gag reflex.
Gale rips himself away in record time, coughing. "The hell, man?!" He whips his head up to look at Haig, but the doctor grabs him roughly by his hair, forcing Gale to stand as he gets up from his seat.
"You think just your mouth is enough for the mess you made?" Haig turns them around, kicking his chair out of the way. Gale gulps when he feels his leg hit the small desk that was behind it. Haig towers over him, blocking him in.
"I'll decide what I'm owed myself."
Haig smashes their lips together. Their teeth clacked, but Gale quickly gives ground, opening his mouth for Haig to sweep his tongue in and tangle it with Gale's. The mood that was unceremoniously ruined before is quickly reignited to an even higher degree. Gale is elated by the development and he gasps as Haig pulls, tipping his head backwards and exposing his neck. The blush on his face is already spreading down to his chest. Haig tugs the ribbon tied around Gale's neck loose and laves over a spot above the ridge of his collarbone where it's usually covered. Gale whimpers and arches into Haig when teeth press down on his skin. In terms of sharpness, his own three fangs are the clear winner, but Haig has some luxury "augmentations" done to his own as well. Those two gold canines on his bottom jaw are totally cheating! Are they hot? Yeah, but it's still cheating! The bite isn't enough to pierce skin, but the bruise sucked on to his skin is much too dark to not be obvious even with a quick glance.
Gale can't help it but let out a moan when Haig gropes him, pressing down on the outline of his crotch. Haig makes quick work of undoing their belts and pants, letting them drop to their ankles. Gale bucks into Haig in search of friction, his smaller cock pressing up and leaving a trail of pre on to him. Haig's breathing stuttered, not entirely unaffected by the sensation.
"Brat," Haig mutters and turns Gale around. He reaches for a bottle of something Gale can't see, but the faint herbal scent emanating from it gives him a fair guess that it must be massage oil; more particularly, the very same one that Haig smells of whenever he had Cook helped knead out the knots in his back. Haig nudges Gale's legs apart as he pours the oil on his palm, then proceeds to slather it on the singer's inner thighs.
"Not bratty enough for you to fuck me apparently," Gale grumbles. He jumps in surprise when Haig cups his balls, but keens low in his throat when the doctor rolls them gently on his palm and moves on to stroking his shaft briefly, covering him with oil as well.
To be honest, Gale is a little relieved. Even when Haig is angry, he still cares for him this much.
"I've got better ways to ruin you," Haig says, leaning in to nip at his ear, "but we don't have the time right now.
—Or the guy is so stubborn to the point he denies himself the good things in life. Yeah, that tracks.
Still hot as fuck though.
Gale's reply fizzles out in his throat as Haig puts his cock between his lubed up thighs. Gale dutifully closes them. Haig is long enough that his glans still peak through at the front. He's pressing up against the underside of Gale, and the singer can't help himself but to start grinding a bit, shifting his weight and pushing himself back.
Haig holds Gale by his waist to keep him still. Their difference in height means Gale is forced to stand on tiptoes. He pulls back then snaps his hips forward, jostling and drawing a yelp from Gale. Haig doesn't bother going slow, just driving himself in and out, chasing his own pleasure. Every thrust makes their members slide against each other, slick with oil which has only grown more fragrant as it gets rubbed into the skin.
Gale is trying his best to stay upright, but the pleasure is making his knees weaker by the second. Since he can't brace himself on the desk with his hands, Gale has to clench his core muscles to not let his body fold forward and bump his head against the wall. The strain leads to him squeezing his legs even tighter. Haig grunts and stops his movement.
"You trying to pull my dick off or something?" His voice and breath are labored. Haig adjusts his grip on the singer.
Suddenly, Gale finds himself turned around and no longer touching the floor at all.
Haig has lifted him up and hugged him, one hand on his shoulder blade and one to grip his ass. The front of their bodies are pressed up flushed together with Gale's poor, weeping cock sandwiched in between. Considering the fact that Haig plays his heavy instrument without even using a strap to help hold it up, he has more than enough strength to have Gale exactly where he wants him, and he gets back into rhythm right away.
"Haig, Haig, Haig Haig—" Gale babbles the doctor's name along with the other sweet nothings that are falling out of his lips involuntarily. The new arrangement lets him get more friction, but he can't move at all. Gale licks and gnaws at the pale chest in front of him, making a mess as his lipstick smears. Haig's mouth is right by his ear, letting Gale hear every small noises of pleasure he lets out as well as every huff of breath from exertion. A total opposite from his captain who is nothing but vocal.
"So close. Please please pleaseplease," Gale whines, his voice already climbing an octave as the motions grow erratic. Haig must be close too.
"Shut it." The hand on his back comes up to press his head down, leading to his fangs pressing into Haig's skin. Gale bites on instinct, muffling his howl of pleasure as he cums, streaks of white covering their stomachs. It's intense enough that his legs go stiff, locking Haig in as the man also finishes, his spend going on the desk instead.
Haig stands with Gale in his arms, both panting, coming down from their orgasms. Haig lets Gale down to stand, but still holds him close. The perfume of herbs infused in the oil can't quite cover up the smell of sex.
Gale detaches his mouth from where he had accidentally bitten Haig. A three-holed mark greets him, ringed with red and sure to bruise very soon. A glance up at Haig and the singer balks at the withering look he receives in return, the afterglow getting beaten out by a new source of irritation brought about by the same perpetrator as the first.
"Um, at least we match?"
Haig lets him crumple to the floor.
