franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier pauses, noting the disappointment in his lieutenant’s voice. He feels a twinge of guilt— he’s shouldn’t be playing with Hodgson’s heart like this. Not when he has so little to give— he ought to fuck him again just as a thank-you for keeping company through the night— but Crozier is tired and heartsick, and severely doubts that he could manage to get up past half mast while feeling as he does.* *Still, he looks at Hodgson a moment. The wispy golden fur of his chest. The pink spots of his body— his ruddy cheeks, his nipples, his lips. Crozier breathes out in a heavy sigh.* *Naked from the waist up, he walks over to the bed, and cups Hodgson’s face in his weather-worn hands. He smiles, sadly.*

Only if you’re alright to leave, lieutenant. I myself have the appointment with Sir James, but— you …may stay in bed for as long as you wish, George.

ah, until your watch begins. I mean. Smile face :).

*He hesitates, unsure if his tenderness is welcome. Then, with a complicated expression, Crozier is leaning down and presses a lingering kiss to the other man’s forehead, before he turns away to continue getting dressed*

Captain? Captain Crozier? It's Goodsir. I've brought you some lemon juice.

ahh @drbestsir. Be very quiet when you come in— leave the lemon juice on the table. Lt. Hodgson is still asleep.

[franciscrozierofficial]

Morning, George. Glad you’re awake. :).

*Crozier’s smile is faltering, his face drawn as if he slept very poorly indeed. Still, he pats the other man amicably, and extricates himself from the bed with fond touches to Hodgson’s back. He begins pull on clothes, his cock— half-hard with the morning— bobbing as he hobbles into his drawers one leg at a time. He coughs.*

I, uh, plan to break my fast with Sir James Ross. I trust you… will.. be alright? Lieutenant?

Captain? Captain Crozier? It's Goodsir. I've brought you some lemon juice.

ahh @drbestsir. Be very quiet when you come in— leave the lemon juice on the table. Lt. Hodgson is still asleep.

[franciscrozierofficial]

sigh… no, I appreciate the fruit, Mr. Goodsir. I’m just… weary, is all.

I’ll ring for you if I require any medical assistance. I doubt I will. Couldn’t die if I tried ha ha.

…Give my best to Lieutenant Irving. He may need it.

Captain? Captain Crozier? It's Goodsir. I've brought you some lemon juice.

ahh @drbestsir. Be very quiet when you come in— leave the lemon juice on the table. Lt. Hodgson is still asleep.

[franciscrozierofficial]

😠 …Hmhpgh. Peaches.

*@ltgeorgehodgson mumbles in his sleep, nuzzling into Crozier’s chest as if to seek out the source of the noise. Crozier flushes guiltily. Lowers his voice again, and picks at the edge of the blanket to cover up a few more inches of bare skin*

It’s quite alright, Mr. Goodsir. Though if you have an idea which of our men is “eating the lemons” I’d appreciate their name. Can’t risk scurvy on top of every-bloody-thing else.

Captain? Captain Crozier? It's Goodsir. I've brought you some lemon juice.

ahh @drbestsir. Be very quiet when you come in— leave the lemon juice on the table. Lt. Hodgson is still asleep.

[franciscrozierofficial]

Captain? Captain Crozier? It's Goodsir. I've brought you some lemon juice.

ahh @drbestsir. Be very quiet when you come in— leave the lemon juice on the table. Lt. Hodgson is still asleep.

[franciscrozierofficial]

it's not gay past the 66th parallel

[franciscrozierofficial]

( I am speaking very quietly so as not to wake the lieutenant. )

How can one man produce this much saliva in his sleep. My entire chest is a puddle of drool. It’s a damn medical marvel

Ach could be worse. At least it’s warm

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier doesn’t cry. He doesn’t. Tears slip down his drawn, pock-marked cheeks without a sound— not crying. He’s just lying there, staring at nothing.*

*“Francis.” Suddenly, he’s Francis. Suddenly, he is all his vulnerability, his guilt, his fear, his worries and his insecurities, and he’s pressing his palms flat against George Hodgson’s skin to keep his hands from shaking. He is Francis. That was what ————— called him. Francis. HIS Francis. Aching somewhere deep inside himself, tears falling freely now, Francis Crozier closes his eyes. Whispers—*

You’re… welcome. Sleep well George… my,… dear boy. …Goodnight.

*As Crozier lets himself pretend to fall sleep, he buries his nose in Hodgson’s curls and tries, really TRIES to forget the world exists outside of this cocoon of warmth that they’ve created. He doesn’t want to think about the world. He doesn’t want to think about anyone. He breathes out, slowly wrapping himself tighter around Lt. George Hodgson, and prays that in his sleep, at least, he can find refuge.*

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier takes his time gathering the clothes, trying to compose himself. He manages to throw Hodgson a look that’s not entirely miserable— almost a smile— before he crawls into bed, maneuvering himself gently so that Hodgson rests on him, tucked under his chin. Crozier holds him close, savoring his warmth. He closes his eyes, and wills himself not to think of another man. Not to think of who he is, that that other man couldn’t stay.*

*he presses tired kisses to the back of his lieutenant’s head. Fond, weary. He has never felt older.*

You did well, George. You’re a good boy. I’m… I-

…I’m glad you’re here.

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier nods once, before breaking into a smile that’s nearly… shy. He knows that he’s good at bringing people sexual pleasure, that he understands well enough, but… with Jopson leaving him… the “after”.. the personal moments of intimacy.. he’s on unsteady ground. Unsure of if this part of him is wanted. Crozier clears his throat, and looks down, still half smiling.*

Well then. I’ll, uh. Gather our clothes and… tidy up a bit. Don’t want to leave a mess fo—

*his face clouds suddenly. Not with anger, for once, but with tears. A hot flash of misery steals upon the captain, and he turns away from Hodgson to hide the expression he knows will give him away. He clears his throat again, scratchier this time. He mumbles*

You… get under the covers. Warm them up for us, will you, George? …There’s a lad.

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier chuckles, hot breath over Hodgson’s still-twitching prick. He pulls himself up to his elbows and raises an eyebrow at the other man, still half-smiling.*

Sorry?

George… lad, would I do something like that if I didn’t enjoy the hell out of it?

*He laughs again, and gets to his feet slowly on shaky legs. Groans as he pops his back— the cleft of his arse, his protruding midsection, his softened prick all on full display. He catches Hodgson looking at him and winks, for a moment completely forgetting his own self-image.*

You need some help getting up, lad? As much as I enjoyed that, I’m not so young as… hnph. well, not young enough to come down from congress on a hard wood floor.

*He hesitates a second— this, after everything, is what makes him blush.*

If you’re.. unsteady on your feet, lieutenant, you can… stay in my bunk, for the night. It’ll be… warmer with two.

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier doesn’t slow his rhythm. He hums around Hodgson’s prick, still sucking gently, tongue slurping up and down the underside— and when warmth comes flooding over his tongue, he doesn’t pull off. Mouth too full to swallow, Crozier simply lets his eyes flutter shut, enjoying the bitter taste of his lieutenant filling his mouth.*

*When he’s finished, Crozier pulls off, replacing his mouth with a hand, and guides George through the last of the aftershocks. Finally, Croizer looks up, eyebrow quirked. Mouth full— he makes eye contact with his lieutenant. He swallows. Pointedly. Opens his mouth in a crooked smile, and places a kiss on the wet tip of Hodgson’s cock.*

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*despite Crozier’s foggy, post-coitus mind, he hears the distress in George’s sob, and lifts his head to look at him. Immediately, his face softens into one of pity.*

Ach… dear.. my …sweet thing.. oh. Couldn’t spend from my cock alone?… Poor thing. And after you were so good for me too. nghh..

*he shudders as he pulls himself out with a squelch, and with effort, moves down Hodgson’s frame until he’s face to face with his neglected member, which blushes a bright, painful red.*

*Crozier glances up at Hodgson with surprisingly soft eyes. Mellowed out with pleasure, he smiles, almost fondly.*

There y’are, lad. …Let me take of you.

*He then slips Hodgson’s swollen prick into his mouth, caressing as he slides down to the root, sleepily swirling his tongue over the head, one hand gently holding the base steady. He bobs with languid, practiced strokes, his chin up. Eyes open. Watching the lieutenant fall apart.*

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier grits his teeth. It’s getting to him. The begging, the squirming, the tight fucking hole clenching around his cock, the way Hodgson moans his title like a prayer, so reverent, so obedient, it— he can’t help it.*

Fuck, George, I- I’ll not last, I—

*He gasps when he finds the lieutenant’s prostate— every brush against it makes the man below him spasm, his cock switching, burbling up precum like some useless pretty thing made to admired. Crozier can barely think watch it, watching tears come to Hodgson’s eyes even as they roll back in bliss. His thrusts are getting uncoordinated, slamming himself deeper into the lieutenant each time, huffing and groaning at the slick sound it makes when he pulls out halfway, just to fill him up again. He with the strain of staving off his orgasm—*

—eeerghhh CHRIST— you feckin pup,keep fuckin’ twistin your hips like that you pretty thing you little— ah ahh— I’ll put you- auh— in your place, fuckin’ pump you full —an’ —an’ swollen with my seed- FUCK—

*Breathing hard, Crozier grabs at Hodgson, hands scrabbling at his back, and with a push of adrenaline, he manages to lift the other man up off the ground. Sitting back on his knees, using all the strength he gained from a lifting of hauling ropes through freezing sleet, Crozier holds his lieutenant in the air with his arms locked around the George Hodgson’s midsection, impaling him from a new angle. He moans, pressing close, face buried between Hodgson’s soft pecs, dusted with blonde and speckled with sweat. Crozier mouths at him, greedy, nipping, muscles straining to keep the other man aloft as he fucks into him.*

*With a strangled cry, muffled in Hodgson’s chest, Crozier spends inside of him.* *He barely avoids dropping Hodgson as his whole body goes rigid before his strength gives out with the last of his orgasm. Crozier just manages to lay him down, still pulsing inside, before collapsing on top of the other man, utterly spent.*

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier growls, and without any further patience or warning, pushes fully inside Hodgson a single thrust. He makes a choked, punched-out noise at the sudden intrusion, and Crozier moans in reply.*

Holy fuck, lad, you… wet, you… George you’re so… hhhhmdnn…

*he begins thrusting, sharply, barely giving Hodgson time to get used to his cock before he starts chasing the warmth. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, along with Hodgson’s breathy moans. Crozier’s whole face is red and screwed up with effort, sweat dripping down his chest. Still, he pistons himself in and out, hard and fast, fucking him like he means to break the man in half.*

Fuck, fuck, fuck….

Christ almighty such a feckin slut you are takin’ it all.. such a good boy… cockdumb and droolin’ for me, for your captain

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*As he turns back to him, grease in hand, Crozier lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan.*

Oh you are a good boy, aren’t you George?…

*He returns with the grease and pillow, drops to his knees, and lifts Hodgson so that his hips rest comfortably on the pillow’s surface, making for a better angle. Crozier makes a show of slicking up his cock, toying with the head. Watching Hodgson’s breath become shallow, watching his poor neglected prick twitch and dribble on his stomach.*

….Ready for me, sweetling?

*Crozier presses the tip against the right ring of muscle, teasing. Not yet pushing in*

You going to be a good slut, Georgie? and take it all in one go?

*his voice drops, and his fingers dig into the meat of Hodgson’s thighs, all tenderness burned away by pure, predatory need.*

I want to hear you say it. SAY IT, pup.

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial

[franciscrozierofficial]

*Crozier pulls off with a private smile, spit trickling down his chin. He rubs Hodgson’s arse before smacking it again, just to see how the man yelps, how pretty his skin looks as it turns pink on the imprint of Crozier’s palm.*

Such a noisy pup you are. Would’ve fucked you earlier, lieutenant, if I’d known you were such a slut.

*As he pulls back Crozier kisses the other man’s hip, placating, and groans as he gets to his feet. He looks sternly down at the other man, meeting his wide-blown pupils with an unmoving stare. The corner of Crozier’s mouth quirks upward. His prick bobs freely in the air, inches away from Hodgson’s scarlet-flushed face.*

Now, lieutenant… you’re going to flip yourself over and hold your legs in the air for me, so I can see that greedy hole while I get the grease.

And if I catch you touching yourself before I say so…

*his grin takes full form on his face— it’s not a kind one.*

I’ll keep you like this, on the floor whining around your fingers… moaning like a desperate bitch in heat while I paint that pretty face of yours.

at the appointed time, george is waiting outside crozier's cabin, cleaned up as best as he can. he still can't get his head around this - why does crozier want him? what has he done to earn this? - but he is resolutely trying to stop overthinking and just let this... whatever it will be, happen. he knocks at the door and waits, squeezing his hands together.

@franciscrozierofficial